Early the next morning.
West of Heaven Dou City, Goddess Lake.
Green mountains ringed it, emerald water lay like a mirror, light boats drifted on the ripples, and the ancient village was quiet.
A waterside pavilion jutted out over the lake, with upturned eaves and interlocking brackets, its aged wood grain silently telling of a hundred years of wind and frost.
The damp, chilly morning mist had yet to disperse. Strand after strand lingered and coiled between the shimmering water and the carved wooden railings, blurring the boundary between distant mountains and nearby water, and also blurring the line between inside and outside the pavilion.
Deep in the water mist, a woman reclined against a vermilion-lacquered beauty rail by the water, her posture languid yet carrying a fierce, inviolable dominance.
Her black formal robes were heavy and somber, embroidered in dark Golden Thread with a giant bird totem poised to spread its wings and fly, flowing with a molten, blazing glow. Her hem hung down, silently tangling with the shifting mist.
She gripped an exquisite little jar in her hand. The mouth of the jar tilted slightly, and clear liquor drew a thin line through the air, falling straight into her mouth.
Her neck stretched with each swallow, its lines both graceful and strong.
Most heart-stopping were those eyes. Deep within her black pupils, a dark gleam like molten gold shimmered, as if they held the core of an eternal sun-wheel, making that exquisitely beautiful face seem all the more majestic and cold.
"Tch." She swallowed the last mouthful of wine and casually set the empty jar on the railing, her hangover-roughened voice shattering the pavilion's silence.
"This place, morning or evening, rain or shine, is damn perfect feng shui for retirement. No wonder you clung to it and refused