"..."
"Father?"
Zhang Zhiyuan held a hand up to silence his son. Then, he lifted a small bell that lay on the table and shook it. A melodious ringing sound poured out of the bell, a sign for any servant or maid to approach the room.
"Your Highness."
"Chang'er, bring me some tea," Zhang Zhiyuan said when the shadow of a maid appeared on the sliding paper door.
"Right away, master," Chang'er replied before she left for the kitchen.
Zhang Zhiyuan refused to talk to his son before he had a few cups of tea to stabilize his nerves.
"Fengxi, are you sure?" was all he managed to say after he found his voice again.
"Father, I swear by..."
"Dear Gods, do not swear. Whatever you swear by, it will only bring our tiger clan extreme misfortune."
"..."
Zhang Zhiyuan groaned into his palms.
