"Woo woo woo, woo woo woo..."
It was a monotonous, empty little room.
Square and bare, with no doors and no windows. It shut out everything, and severed everything.
It was oppressive.
Or perhaps, it was safe.
There was nothing in the room.
Only a frail little girl in a white dress, curled up in the shadowed corner. Her slender hands hugged her knees as she buried her face and wept.
Like a tiny white flower that could be crushed by the wind at any moment.
Her sobs were just as weak, too timid to be heard, broken and faint, mournfully choked.
"Get up! Get up!"
A shrill, venomous voice suddenly rang out beyond the room. It rushed closer in an instant, as though it would smash this room apart: "Zhu Biqiong, how could you be like this over some stinking man?!"
The little girl in the white dress shuddered all over as if startled, then raised her head—
Her quiet eyes were looking at herself in the mirror.
The Zhu Biqiong in the mirror wore the true disciple robes of Sea Fishing Tower, sitting still on a bamboo stool like a portrait of a lady fixed within the glass. Her black hair fell over her shoulders, her expression cold and solitary; no ripples in her brows, no waves in her eyes. Where was even a trace of the green, timid weakness she once had?
Spring was at its finest in the Near-Sea Archipelago, and white-browed azaleas were blooming all across Huai Island.
This azalea, unique to Huai Island, was named for the two white stripes across its petals. Thus came the saying: "Before the beloved returns, the azalea has already grown white brows."
When Granny Bizhu was still alive, she had loved this flower dearly. She would often sit