The world of film and television begins with Hikaru no Go

"Who is that former subordinate of the King of Yue who is being held captive?"

"Li Gui, the youngest son of King Li Zhen of Yue."

Wu Zetian did not show any surprise, as if she already knew, but just needed Di Renjie to say it himself.

Where are they?

"They've been seen off."

The hall was quiet for a while, then the charcoal fire made a very faint crackling sound, a spark flashed in the furnace, and then went out.

"Huaiying, you've given me a difficult problem."

"Your subject dares not."

"Li Gui is the descendant of a traitorous king; according to the law, he should be executed."

"Yes, according to the law, he should be executed." Judge Di bowed slightly. "But in this case, Liu Chali colluded with the Imperial Guards, imprisoned Li Gui, and plotted to frame the Crown Prince... Li Gui is the victim. If the victim is also punished, I'm afraid the people of the world will say that the court cannot distinguish right from wrong."

This statement is very subtle; it refers to the "court," not "His Majesty," and it's not simply a plea for mercy, but rather an analysis of the pros and cons.

"Victim." Wu Zetian repeated the three words to herself, neither warm nor cold. "Then, that copy of 'The Blue Robe Chronicle' in his possession... all these years, didn't he have any other plans?"

"Li Gui handed over the book before he was imprisoned. It was hidden in Liu Chuanlin's study and was discovered during my investigation," Di Renjie replied. "The book contains a batch of treasures and armor left by the King of Yue at Cuiping Mountain. I have sealed all three books together and filed them as evidence."

Wu Zetian did not respond immediately. She leaned against the armchair and twirled her fingers twice along the edge of the thin blanket on her knees.

"Does the Crown Prince know about this?"

"The Crown Prince is unaware that he has had absolutely no connection to this case from beginning to end."

Are you sure?

"I am certain."

Wu Zetian looked at Di Renjie for a long time, then waved her hand.

"Since Li Gui has already been sent away, let's pretend he never existed. Wu Xiaojie is pardoned. You're in charge of cleaning up the mess in Huzhou. Don't let me hear his name again."

Di Renjie rose, straightened his clothes, and bowed, saying, "Your subject obeys the decree."

By the time I left the side hall, the snow had stopped.

The sky was overcast, and a thin layer of snow covered the stone steps of the corridor. Each step made a very light sound before falling silent again.

Di Renjie did not turn around, but walked out along the corridor, through the moon gate, and through the long passageway.

The soles of the boots landed on the remaining snow swept to the sides, making a soft, unhurried sound.

Zhang Rui floated up and landed beside him: "Grandpa, His Majesty just asked Li Gui..."

"She knows that Xu Shide isn't the only one in the Imperial Guard." Di Gong continued walking, his eyes fixed ahead. "The one imprisoned is Li Gui, and she knows exactly how I'll handle him. 'Pretend he doesn't exist' doesn't mean letting Li Gui off the hook, it means letting me off the hook."

Zhang Rui was silent for a moment: "What about the three books?"

"Archive".

Stepping out of the imperial city, the snow on Zhuque Street had melted under the afternoon sun, revealing the wet bluestone slabs underneath. As the wheels rolled over them, they kicked up a trail of fine water droplets.

There weren't many pedestrians on the street. A few peddlers carrying loads were stamping their feet and breathing out white vapor in front of the gate. An old man riding a donkey, wrapped in a straw raincoat, was slowly walking westward.

Business as usual.

-----------------

After the Blue Robe case was resolved, a heavy snow fell in Chang'an.

The snow fell all night and only stopped at dawn.

The courtyard was covered with a thick layer of snow, and the stone steps under the eaves were covered so that the edges were no longer visible. Only the edge of the old water vat showed a ring of black glaze, which stood out conspicuously in the snow.

Di Chuntian got up before dawn to sweep snow, the sound of the broom scraping against the blue bricks echoing from one end of the yard to the other.

Judge Di stood by the window for a while, then turned around.

"I won't be practicing the Thousand Character Classic today."

Zhang Rui looked up from the small desk: "Then what should we practice?"

Judge Di took an old scroll from the bookshelf, placed it on the table, and unfolded it.

It is a copy of the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion," with annotations in vermilion ink by predecessors between the lines, the ink color of which has faded to ochre brown.

"Wang Xizhi's calligraphy. Now that you have a foundation, you can try copying this. Don't strive for perfect imitation, just try to understand the spirit of the brushstrokes."

Zhang Rui spread out a new sheet of paper, dipped his brush in the inkstone, studied the calligraphy for a while, and then made his first stroke.

He wrote very slowly, pondering as he wrote, glancing at the calligraphy, writing a few words, and then looking up again.

When you encounter a complex section, stop and don't rush to write it down. First, mentally review the shape of the character on the calligraphy.

Judge Di leaned back in his chair, holding an old book in his hands. He would occasionally glance at it and then look down to turn a page.

A sparrow landed under the eaves outside the window, chirped twice, and then fluttered away.

The study was quiet, and the window paper was whitened by the snow, making it a bit brighter than usual.

Write a few words, pause, then write a few more.

"In the ninth year of Yonghe, the year of Guichou, at the beginning of late spring, we gathered at the Orchid Pavilion in Shanyin, Kuaiji..."

When writing "A gathering of wise men, young and old, all came together," the writing became slightly more relaxed; when writing "This place has towering mountains and lofty peaks, dense forests and tall bamboos," the writing speed slowed down again...

The strokes of the characters “崇” and “峻” were squeezed together. After pausing for a moment, I lifted the brush, dipped it in ink again, and when I put it down again, it was a little lighter than before.

Di Renjie did not offer any guidance, leaving the matter to the man to ponder.

"...On this day, the sky was clear and the air was fresh, with a gentle breeze blowing. Looking up at the vastness of the universe, and down at the abundance of all things in the world."

I stopped writing when I got to this sentence.

Zhang Rui looked down at the few lines of text on the paper, then looked up at the vast expanse of white snow in the yard outside the window, and suddenly remembered something.

For the past few months, I've been following Judge Di's side, from Pengze to Jiangzhang, from Youzhou to Huzhou...

He had seen the fake Fang Qian slumped beside the incense table, seen Ji Li kneeling barefoot on the cold floor tiles, seen Hu Jinghui holding the family genealogy documents with trembling fingers, and seen Li Gui being carried out of the dungeon, so thin he was just a skeleton...

There were also things he hadn't witnessed firsthand, but had heard about from Judge Di...

He looked away and continued writing.

"Although their interests and preferences differ greatly, and their temperaments vary, when they are happy with what they encounter and temporarily satisfied with it, they are content and unaware that old age is approaching."

The pen stopped again, this time on the six characters "unaware that old age is approaching".

He looked at the six characters, raised his head, and glanced at Judge Di.

The old man was leaning back in his chair, flipping through a book. There were a few more white hairs at his temples than when he first met him in Pengze. His fingers twirled the pages, turning one page after another.

Di Renjie noticed his gaze and looked up: "What is it?"

"It's nothing." Zhang Rui shook his head, picked up his pen again, and continued writing.

"As feelings change, so do emotions. What once brought joy has become a thing of the past in the blink of an eye, yet one cannot help but feel nostalgic about it."

Having written this far, I took a deep breath, then shifted my focus and began the next sentence—

"Those who come after will view the present as we view the past."

The pen tip hovered above the paper, a drop of ink about to fall, gleaming faintly in the lamplight.

The last horizontal stroke of the character "昔" is a bit too long, about one point longer than in the original post.