Hundred Years

A hundred years passed like a dream.

Life and death, withering and flourishing—turning one's head, all became fleeting splendor. Years had passed since then, yet no message or letter had arrived.

Bai Yujun lounged lazily in the waterside pavilion, staring blankly as the Lotus Spirit and Carp Spirit tended the flowers and maintained the rear garden. The Lotus Spirit was exquisitely beautiful and a delight to the eye. The Carp Spirit was a chubby child, grunting as he cleared the waterways. Beyond the wall, the Wild Chicken Spirit craned his neck for a look but did not dare crow.

Without realizing it, a hundred years had gone by. The world had become unfamiliar once more, and there were fewer and fewer familiar faces.

Suddenly, she had the illusion of standing too high to bear the cold...

Her pointed ears drooped listlessly, and her tail was too lazy to swish. It lay completely still. She wanted more and more to sleep a long sleep.

Legend said too much sleep affected one's brainpower. She did not know whether that was true, but those demon emperors who did nothing but sleep and fight were never quite right in the head.

Bamboo leaves drifted down, landing soundlessly upon the ground.

The Great Dao was ever-changing; only one's steadfast original heart endured.

The affairs of the world troubled the heart, and nature was hard to come by. She raised a jade-like hand and plucked the ancient zither, playing the voice within her heart. Some came, some went. Perhaps that was Jianghu. In the end, she alone gazed at the same sky, recalling all that had passed. One melody could not exhaust her sorrow.

What had passed would never return. Fallen leaves lay buried deep in dust, while white clouds drifted through the world, unable to