Mang Tianchi's Departure

As Xiao Ling stepped out of the Training Room, the courtyard was bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

A bluestone path wound through clusters of dark bamboo as tall as a person. Dewdrops hanging from the bamboo tips shattered into silver threads in the breeze, falling onto the wisteria climbing the corridor pillars.

The moss-covered stone benches beneath the flower trellis were damp with moisture. Several early-fallen magnolia petals floated in the pooled water within a stone basin, spinning pale azure ripples with the water's movement.

When he raised his eyes, he saw a thin haze of tea steam enveloping the glazed pavilion at the center of the courtyard.

Two figures sat facing each other across a stone table. Amber-colored tea was spilling from the celadon teapot atop it, and amid the curling white mist, the rich fragrance of tea mingled with the dampness of morning dew, drifting straight to the nose.

The tea fragrance carried the crisp purity of the wilderness, yet also the deep lingering notes of aged pu'er. One whiff was enough to tell that it was no ordinary tea.

The old man seated on the left side of the stone table had frosted temples, while the wrinkles on his brow resembled the rings of an ancient pine. It was none other than Mang Tianchi.

The woman opposite him wore a dark violet dress. Her long hair was loosely gathered into a fallen-horse bun, with several strands falling beside her cheeks. She was Zi Yan, who had only recently inherited the Dragon Emperor position.

Her slender fingertips lightly traced the edge of her teacup. Rather than carrying the majesty of a Dragon Emperor holding court, she looked more like an ordinary young girl, with a touch of laziness about her.

It was a coincidence, really.