"Wei Ying, you will have to practice," he responds. His handwriting isn't bad or anything, but it certainly is sloppy and uncared-for, as if he has many other things he'd rather be doing than writing.

He will say nothing about those invitations or how it had taken him hours just to compose the words he wanted to say, having scrapped drafts before it, that were too personal, that had too much to say from him. He won't mention that he hesitated the once and made a mistake, but it had been the umpteenth draft and he felt guilty wasting another sheet.

He says nothing of this, but instead, helps Wei Ying get into his robes. "We will need decorations," he adds. They will probably want ones that are red and gold, any sort. Perhaps flowers, if they can find any.