Another sleep,
Another early wake-up,
Another wake without lying in bed,
Another sitting at the desk,
Another writing "Cloud thinks of clothes, and flowers think of face,"
Another pondering what the next line should be.
Tomorrow is the princess's wedding, and Lord Zheng thinks perhaps he should choose another poem to recite.
They say you never realize how little knowledge you have until you need it, and it's true.
Putting down the brush, Lord Zheng went to fetch water to wash up.
As he carried the basin outside, he saw the sword-maker sitting in the courtyard.
The sword-maker was sitting on the ground, carving a wooden sword in his hand.
Zheng Fan had seen the Sword Saint carve wooden sword toys for children, using Longyuan, treating it with the utmost seriousness as if doing something quite childish.
The sword-maker, relaxed and natural with an ordinary carving knife, seemed to be doing something very serious in a childish manner.
