Xiaoxiang Lodge, afternoon.
There wasn't much to say. The scenery here was still as lovely as ever.
Although the afternoon sun was scorching, perhaps it was because the courtyard was planted throughout with those immortal Xiaoxiang bamboos and banana trees, or because an array filtered and blocked the sunlight.
In any case, the bamboo stalks were lush and green, their leaves swaying freely. Whenever a breeze passed, they rustled softly, their music clear and unhurried.
Several broad-leaved trees were interspersed among them, their canopies spreading shade across the entire courtyard and tinting it a verdant green. A clear stream had also been drawn through a gap in the artificial rockery, winding past the steps and through the bamboo with a gentle murmur. Its spiritual aura and moist air nourished the whole courtyard, making it an elegant, secluded place, refreshingly cool and comfortable—a truly fine spot for quiet cultivation.
Wasn't it?
Thanks to the arrangements made by some skilled craftsmen, the sunlight grew dappled as it filtered through the courtyard's green bamboo. Even sitting in the courtyard at this time of afternoon, one didn't find it glaring at all.
And yet today, in this courtyard that should have been so quiet and graceful, so suitable for quiet cultivation, an inexplicable heaviness and gloom seemed to hang beneath the tranquil shade.
"..."
"..."
At that moment, Xueyan and Zijuan, who were usually lively and energetic, were hiding beneath a covered walkway, their faces full of worry.
The reason was that their young mistress, Lin Daiyu, was sitting on a bamboo chair beneath the eaves beside the clear stream. Her hands rested against her chest, but her gaze was fixed blankly on the swaying bamboo shadows in the distance. No one knew what she was thinking.
"..."
She sat there wearing a white