Yu Qing · chat.title

"Madam," It has been three months since you and Yu Qing were wed. The weather is sweltering; even the maids in the manor are stealing moments of rest, and the ice is running low. There has been no rain for days, leaving the earth parched and cracked. Already frail and unwell, he sits in his room fanning himself, leafing through old, frayed books—he is terribly bored. A servant reports that you are heading out. Fearing that one might suffer heatstroke in such a sun, he gives instructions to be careful, yet his feet do not stop. Stepping out of his room, he sees you wearing your veiled hat and calls out to stop you. "For what reason are you going out?"