Ten-teh was no longer able to express himself in words, but at this indication of the Emperor’s unceasing thought a great happiness shone on his face.  “What remains?” must reasonably have been his reflection; “or who shall leave the shade of the fruitful palm-tree to search for raisins?” Therefore having reached so supreme an eminence that there was nothing human above, he relaxed the effort by which he had so long sustained himself, and suffering his spirit to pass unchecked, he at once fell back lifeless among the cushions of the throne.

That all who should come after might learn by his example, the history of Ten-teh was inscribed upon eighteen tablets of jade, carved patiently and with graceful skill by the most expert stone-cutters of the age.  A triumphal arch of seven heights was also erected outside the city and called by his name, but the efforts of story-tellers and poets will keep alive the memory of Ten-teh even when these imperishable monuments shall have long fallen from their destined use.
                                  *

When Kai Lung had completed the story of the loyalty of Ten-teh and had pointed out the forgotten splendour of the crumbling arch, the coolness of the evening tempted them to resume their way.  Moving without discomfort to themselves before nightfall they reached a small but seemly cottage conveniently placed upon the mountain-side.  At the gate stood an aged person whose dignified appearance was greatly added to by his long white moustaches.  These possessions he pointed out to Hwa-mei with inoffensive pride as he welcomed the two who stood before him.

“Venerated father,” explained Kai Lung dutifully, “this is she who has been destined from the beginning of time to raise up a hundred sons to keep your line extant.”

“In that case,” remarked the patriarch, “your troubles are only just beginning.  As for me, since all that is now arranged, I can see about my own departure—­’Whatever height the tree, its leaves return to the earth at last.’”

“It is thus at evening-time—­to-morrow the light will again shine forth,” whispered Kai Lung.  “Alas, radiance, that you who have dwelt about a palace should be brought to so mean a hut!”

“If it is small, your presence will pervade it; in a palace there are many empty rooms,” replied Hwa-mei, with a reassuring glance.  “I enter to prepare our evening rice.”

The Project Gutenberg Etext of Kai Lung’s Golden Hours by Bramah