The gold wind was fine, and the leaves of the parasol trees fell one by one.
Come autumn in Shengjing, sudden nighttime rains were like sorrows; after one such night, the courtyard of the Palace Marshal's Mansion was covered in fallen parasol tree leaves.
Early in the morning, Duan Xiaoyan got up to feed Zhizi; she had just swept away the fallen leaves when a gust of wind startled half the tree's leaves into falling.
Xiao Zhufeng had just arrived at the Palace Marshal's Mansion and had not yet entered the door when a shower of leaves fluttered down, landing on his shoulder.
He paused his steps, reaching to pluck the leaf from his shoulder.
It was a whole parasol leaf, its green hue turned into a beautiful golden yellow, displaying a bit of vivid warmth in the autumn morning.
He held the leaf as he entered.
