How could being a ghost ever compare to the talent of an immortal?5

The sound of the actor's singing still lingered in the air. Li Zhouwei stood with his hands behind his back, his index finger resting on his other wrist as he tapped lightly, as though keeping time with the pipa below.0

Below, the middle-aged man narrowed his phoenix eyes slightly, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. He still said nothing, only bringing the hand that had been behind his back forward and untying the gourd at his waist.0

The gourd was small and delicate. It was unclear what kind of wine or brew it held. The man held it in one hand and took a sip, while his other hand rested at his waist, his index finger placed on the hilt of the middle sword among the six small blades.4

With such a casual stance, he looked like a minor official from a neighboring town; someone who tended a small patch of vegetables, finished his duties and farm work, then strolled...0