By the time the sun tilted west, help arrived.
And by help, I mean an entire troop of armored soldiers, healers, officials, servants, carriages, and one dignified old man who looked like he had swallowed a thundercloud and was trying very hard not to spit lightning.
Li Jinhan was walking beside him.
Correction. Li Jinhan was limping beside him.
There was a bump on his forehead. Then another on the side of his head. There might have been one hidden under his hair too.
I stared, admiring whoever's handiwork it was. It was a sight to behold and deserved its own award.
Prime Minister Li was an elegant man with sharp eyes, a scholar's bearing, and the terrifying aura of a parent who had just discovered that his son had been living like a stray cat for five years. His robes were dark blue, embroidered subtly with cloud patterns, and his beard was neatly trimmed. He looked refined and dignified.
