The lingering glow of the setting sun was gradually swallowed by darkness.
Every household in the bustling city lit candles, yet at its prosperous heart lay a patch of utter blackness, jarringly out of place amid the surrounding clamor. The luxurious residence that had blazed with lights only days ago showed not a single gleam now. The grounds were a complete mess, as though looted after being dug three feet into the earth.
The prosperity of old had passed like drifting clouds and smoke. The ways of the world were unpredictable, just as the old saying went: fortune and calamity could change overnight, and the winds and clouds were impossible to foresee.
Beside the lotus pond in the rear garden stood an old tree, its trunk so thick that three or four people could barely encircle it. It grew at a slant, half-covering the flowerbeds and half-shading the pond. Children often climbed it, polishing its bark smooth beneath their feet. Many bamboo slips covered in writing still hung from its branches, clacking softly whenever the wind blew.
The unlit pavilions stood pitch-black. Their broken, cornerless roofs twisted into strange shapes, like colossal beasts lurking in the night.
Hazy moonlight spilled into the courtyard, leaving two bright moons—the lotus pond and the sky.
Suddenly, the old tree leaning toward the water let out the sound of splitting wood. Its trunk slowly cracked open, revealing a person wrapped inside. A faint green Life Aura withdrew back into the old tree. In the moonlight, one could vaguely make out a girl of sixteen or seventeen. She was very beautiful, dressed in garments only a wealthy household could afford.
The tears on the girl's face had long dried. Her brows were tightly furrowed, as if she were trapped in a nightmare, and she occasionally