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Mount Qingdu.
Cold rain fell steadily. The newly budding lotuses by the lakeshore were hit by frost, drooping feebly and plunging into the water to turn muddied and gray.
Li Qinghong cradled a jade box as she ascended Mount Qingdu. She noticed the stone steps had grown increasingly mossy, but a clean path remained because Li Xuanxuan came here every few days. After walking a dozen steps, she saw rows of green stone steles standing tall.
Li Ximing was still nowhere in sight; she knew he wouldn’t be able to come for a while. Only Li Xuanxuan was there, dressed in a gray-blue robe with his sleeves rolled up, holding a stele as he squinted and carved.
When he saw Li Qinghong approaching, the old man asked, "Have the arrangements at the foot of the mountain been settled?"
"Yes. Xijun never married or had children, so there are no troublesome...
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