May of the third year of Da Jin Shunhe.
A small figure stealthily crawled out of bed, tiptoed to the floor, and struggled to put on his two little boots.
As he was about to leave, Song Mingzhe remembered something, turned back to the bed, and used his hands to bunch up the quilt, making it look like someone was still sleeping there. So when the female official glanced through the curtain, she would think he was still in bed.
Everything was prepared. The three-year-old Song Mingzhe went around the brocade bed, climbed onto a chair, then onto the desk, and finally reached the window.
Recently, the weather had warmed, and palace attendants had replaced the warm window lattices, opening windows during the day for ventilation. Song Mingzhe saw this happening with his own eyes.
Removing the latch would allow the window to be pushed open.
The three-year-old child did not understand the reasoning behind it, but he remembered the steps the palace attendants took to open the window.
