Central Province, Marsh City.
Number One Scholar Lane.
The turmoil across the Nine Provinces had not affected the cramped bookshop in this small alley of the city.
The books displayed on the counter seemed to have weathered countless storms. Yet in these chaotic times, simply staying alive was already exceedingly difficult; naturally, no one patronized the bookshop.
At the end of Number One Scholar Lane lay a place of wind and moon. Though it was still afternoon, guests were already streaming in and out without end.
Beneath the verdant willow outside the bookshop, an old monk was quietly studying the chessboard before him.
The scholar stepped out of the bookshop, crossed the stairs, and followed the alley to the willow tree.
"I've kept this thing here for over three thousand years, haven't I? You remembered to retrieve it today at last."
The scholar took a small brocade box from his robes and placed it before the old monk.
The old monk reached out and picked up the little box, slowly opening it. Within the independently formed small world inside stood a nine-story pagoda, blooming with endless azure radiance.
At the sight of the pagoda, a trace of reminiscence surfaced on the old monk's face. He said slowly, "In the blink of an eye, more than three thousand years have passed. You and I have both grown old, yet this Leifeng Pagoda still retains its former splendor."
The scholar smiled faintly. When his gaze fell upon the chessboard before them, his expression shifted slightly. "Going against the current—that is a dead move."
The old monk said nothing. His gaze moved away from the brocade box, and his withered right hand swept lightly across the board. Several chess pieces immediately turned into ink wash and vanished from the board.
When the scholar