The glass was cool beneath her fingertip. It tapped softly, once, twice, then again...
Tap, Tap, Tap
...and so it goes...
The lively chatter of vendors, the rustle of silk from passing sleeves, and the laughter of children squeezing through legs and carts were all illuminated by the pale gold rays of the morning sun. Almost none of it was noticed by Feng Jiao Xue. Too familiar, too much like the one he carried to irritate her on summer patrols, her eyes followed the edge of a red parasol, catching the memory of how it had swayed when it passed earlier.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She leaned forward slightly, trying to see through the crowds, heart skipping in a way she hated. The parasol had already vanished into the flow of foot traffic, and yet her eyes lingered, like a fool who couldn't stop hoping.
