Summary
A sickly young man moved in next door. He was strikingly handsome, with skin as pale as jade and lips as red as cinnabar.
Using the excuse that my kite had fallen into his courtyard, I scaled the wall to steal a glimpse of him.
On the first day, he gave no reaction at all.
On the second day, he flew into a minor temper.
On the third day, he threw the book he was holding right at me.
I made off with his book, but in my haste, I forgot to take the kite with me.
Later, he held that same kite and insisted it was a token of love I had given him.