The world of film and television begins with Hikaru no Go

Di Renjie pushed open the door to his room.

The windows were closed, and the room was darker than the corridor. Fine dust particles floated in the air, slowly swirling in the light filtering through the window paper.

He placed the lotus leaf package on the table, untied the straw rope, and spread it out.

The aroma of sesame flatbread wafted out, mingling with the fragrance of lotus leaves, filling the entire room.

"Eat."

Zhang Rui stood by the table, looking at the few pancakes.

The sesame seeds are densely embedded in the dough, making the steamed cakes white and plump, with slightly browned edges.

I reached out and picked up a sesame seed cake; it was warm.

The aroma of sesame seeds filled my nose, and the crispy crust made a very soft crackling sound between my teeth.

I took bite after bite, not knowing why I needed to eat more, or where the pancake would go after I ate it, but it tasted delicious and warmed my stomach.

Judge Di smiled, turned around and went out again.

After going downstairs, I asked the shopkeeper for two pots of hot tea.

The tea was freshly brewed, and steam was rising from the spout of the teapot.

Carrying the teapot upstairs, he first went to Li Yuanfang's door and knocked twice.

The door opened a crack, and Li Yuanfang's eyes lit up when he saw the teapot.

Judge Di handed in a pot of tea: "Drink it sparingly."

"...Thank you, sir."

The door closed again.

Di Renjie carried another pot of tea to his room and pushed the door open.

Zhang Rui sat at the table, the pancakes on the lotus leaf were divided into two portions, one with more and one with less, the larger portion was pushed to the other side.

"...Was it left for me?"

"Adults should eat some too."

Zhang Rui didn't look at him; he was putting the last half of the flatbread into his mouth, his cheeks bulging, and his voice was a little muffled.

Di Gong didn't say anything. He walked over, placed the teapot on the table, and then sat down opposite him. He looked at his stack of flatbreads—one sesame flatbread and two steamed flatbreads.

He'd already eaten a bowl of noodles; he couldn't eat this much.

I picked up just one steamed bun and broke it open.

The flesh was snow-white, and steam rose straight out.

He broke it in half, then put the other half back.

Zhang Rui saw it: "My lord—"

That's enough.

Di Gong slowly ate the half-steamed cake. Zhang Rui reached for the teapot, but paused when his fingers touched the handle; the teapot was slightly hot.

So he carefully used his sleeve as a pad, lifted it up, and poured a bowl for Di Gong first.

The tea flowed from the spout, steaming as it fell into the bowl with a gurgling sound, and I poured myself another bowl.

"Be careful..."

Seeing Zhang Rui's slightly clumsy movements, he didn't say anything more, picked up the bowl and took a sip.

It's a little hot and a little bitter.

Sunlight streamed through the window paper, casting a soft glow on the table.

The edges of the lotus leaves were illuminated, shimmering with a pale golden-green hue.

The dust particles swirled slowly in the light, each one sparkling.

The two ate quietly.

After Di Renjie finished eating the half-steamed cake, he picked up a sesame flatbread and broke off a small piece.

She really couldn't eat anymore; that bowl was quite full. She was just keeping Zhang Rui company now.

The sounds of the market outside the window drifted in from afar: the shouts of vegetable vendors, the sound of wheels rolling over stone slabs, the laughter of children...

A layer separates them, making them appear blurred and gentle.

After finishing the small piece of flatbread in his hand, Di Renjie wiped his hands with a coarse cloth, picked up the teapot, and added some more tea to the two bowls.

"Have a sip of water, don't choke."

Zhang Rui picked up the bowl and took a sip.

The tea was no longer hot, just lukewarm.

After finishing the last bite of the pancake, Zhang Rui gathered the scattered sesame seeds and pancake crumbs on the table into the center of the lotus leaf, folded up the four corners of the lotus leaf to make a small bundle, and placed it on the corner of the table.

Judge Di stood up and straightened his clothes.

"Let's go."

Zhang Rui followed.

As he reached the door, Di Renjie glanced back at the table. The small lotus leaf package sat quietly on the corner of the table, next to two empty bowls and a teapot.

The door closed.

After leaving the inn, Di Renjie walked along the eaves of the street.

The sun was already high in the sky, shining brightly on the street.

People came and went: carrying loads on shoulder poles, leading donkeys, women with vegetable baskets, and children chasing after wooden carts.

He walked slowly, occasionally stepping aside to let others pass, but his steps remained steady.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, we entered a teahouse.

An old plaque hangs above the door, the characters on it somewhat faded.

Upon entering, there is a small hall with seven or eight square tables, where people are sitting in twos and threes.

They didn't stop downstairs, but went straight up the stairs.

The wooden ladder is quite old; it creaks when you step on it, and the handrails are worn smooth and shiny.

The second floor was quieter than the downstairs. There was a row of windows facing the street, with the window panels propped up, allowing you to see the small animal crouching on the roof ridge opposite, and the outline of the market town further away.

Judge Di chose a seat by the window and ordered a pot of tea.

The waiter responded and soon brought over a rough porcelain teapot and a teacup, steam rising from the spout.

Di Renjie poured himself a bowl of tea, but didn't drink it. He simply placed the bowl on the table, leaned back slightly in his chair, and looked out at the street outside the window.

Then I started listening to the people around me talk.

In the teahouses of the capital, news travels faster than it does at the post stations.

The speaker may not care who is listening, and the listener may not care who is speaking.

Two merchants at the next table were talking about the silk market in the south. One said that this year's rains were making silkworms difficult to raise and prices would rise, while the other said that prices wouldn't rise much because the roads to the Turkic region were still congested.

A few scholars across the street were discussing this year's imperial examinations, their voices low, occasionally uttering a phrase like "It is said that this year's chief examiner" before falling silent again.

Downstairs, someone was shouting that there was a fire in the east of the city last night, burning down half a shop. Others chimed in, saying it wasn't a fire, but that someone had been arrested—an accountant who was falsifying accounts…

Judge Di listened, occasionally picking up his teacup to take a sip before putting it down again.

The tea soup changed from amber to pale yellow before I added water again.

Zhang Rui stood beside him, his gaze shifting between the faces of those who were speaking, before finally settling back on Di Renjie.

He didn't know why Di Renjie had come here, but he didn't ask any further questions.

About half an hour later, the topic at the next table changed.

"Oh, have you heard? His Majesty is going to Yuanjue Temple to offer incense the day after tomorrow."

"Really?"

"It's absolutely true. My cousin works in the palace and heard it with his own ears. The imperial carriage has already been prepared."

"Yuanjue Temple is going to be quite lively now. It's been a long time since we've seen the Emperor leave the palace to offer incense, hasn't it?"

"That's right. I heard that the temple is already being cleaned and swept, with the abbot personally overseeing it. They've even paved a three-mile stretch of yellow sand around the temple gate."

Di Renjie paused for a moment, the teacup hovering near his lips.

The rim of the bowl rested against the lower lip, without tilting.

After a while, he put down the teacup, the bottom of which tapped on the table with a soft sound.

He then stood up, took out a few coins from his sleeve, placed them on the rim of the bowl, and went downstairs.

Leaving the teahouse, Di Renjie's steps became much lighter.

I walked through the streets and alleys, bypassing the vendors carrying their wares, without stopping.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps between the eaves, casting alternating bright and dark rays that swayed on his shoulders.