Amid the mountains, the cold cut to the bone and goose-feather snow whirled through the air. Yet beside the hot spring at the highest peak, it was warm. A fresh branch had sprouted green buds, and pristine white fairy flowers hung from its emerald twigs, stretching before the eye.
Wang Xuan stood barefoot, even the ground around him wet. Sitting on a stone stool, he drank a cup of amber wine and heard light footsteps approaching. He turned around.
Leng Mei climbed the steps with a graceful sway and arrived before the hot spring pool. Her fine figure was hidden beneath her black robes, but her fair face was exquisitely flawless. She was actually holding a clean, dry towel.
She hesitated. He was becoming more and more excessive. Washing clothes was one thing, but now he was ordering her to dry his wet hair. Would there be other demands in the future, like having her tend to his daily needs?
Should she politely refuse, or rebuke him?
"Thanks," Wang Xuan spoke.
Then he felt the towel settle over his head, and a pair of hands began wiping away the droplets.
Slightly surprised, he said, "Actually, I only wanted a towel. I could have dried it myself. It was all to remind myself that I came all the way from being a mortal, so I must not forget certain old things from the past."
Leng Mei was drying his wet black hair. At his words, her body beneath the black robes stiffened slightly, and her slender hands froze in midair, unable to come down.
Wang Xuan said, "Since you've started, then continue. Your touch is quite gentle. This is also a lovely memory from mortal life. Ah, how nostalgic."
Leng Mei felt like slapping the top of his head. He had