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Outside, it was already daylight, but the mountains remained shrouded in darkness.
Within the dimness, the leisurely sound of a qin echoed through the air.
The melody was intermittent, as if the qin player followed only their whims—playing faster when the mood struck, pausing longer when lost in thought. There was no discernible tune, as if everything was dictated solely by their heart's desire.
The Daoist finished eating his small fish, rinsed his mouth, then stood and looked off into the distance.
A square, flat boulder stood nearby, resembling a qin table. A woman dressed in white sat behind it, her figure strikingly prominent in the dim mountain landscape. She kept her head bowed as she plucked at the qin strings. Behind her stood a quiet and obedient maidservant, who, rather than showing any interest in her mistress's ethereal music, kept her gaze fixed on the Daoist.
“I have matters to attend to. Please feel free to stay as you wish,” the Daoist said.
“Don’t mind us, Daoist Master,” the woman replied, her voice calm as she continued playing. She didn’t even lift her head to glance at him.
With a flick of his sleeve, the Daoist extinguished the campfire. Without another word, he turned and walked into the depths of the darkness.
The qin music remained intermittent, leisurely yet ethereal.
Only the maid turned her head, her clear, bright eyes reflecting the Daoist's figure as he walked farther and farther away, growing smaller and fainter in the ...
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