Night blanketed Nine Profound Mountain like spilled ink. Only a warm yellow Glazed Lamp hung at one corner of the Cloud Terrace. The crisp clack of chess pieces falling upon the wooden board sounded clearer than it did by day.
Wang Ping held white, Liu Shuang black.
When Wang Ping placed a piece, the breeze stirred by his sleeve brushed the flame dancing within the lamp. Liu Shuang focused intently, her fingertips hovering among the black pieces for a long while before she cautiously set one down.
This was not a contest, but more like a silent conversation. No killing intent showed upon the board. The white pieces unfurled like wisps of cloud, while the black pieces coiled like ancient roots, faintly sketching an impressionistic painting of an old tree towering into the sky.
Yulian coiled around Wang Ping's shoulder, her jade-green eyes reflecting the lamplight as she watched quietly.
Wang Ping suddenly spoke, his voice slower than usual. "This game does not resemble your temperament." His fingertip tapped one corner of the board. "Before, right here, you insisted on using a 'collision' move to break my 'flying' move."
Liu Shuang was slightly startled and looked up at her Master. Beneath the lamplight, his brows and eyes were gentle, as though he were merely making casual conversation.
A faint smile spread across Liu Shuang's lips. There was a trace of nostalgia in it, along with the melancholy brought by passing years. "This Disciple was foolish then. I only thought that charging headlong was where vitality lay, and did not understand the deeper meaning of 'taking a step back.'"
"It was not foolishness." Wang Ping placed a white piece, quietly resolving a hidden concern in the black formation. "The way of grass and trees values unceasing growth above all else. Breaking