May weather already carried a hint of summer heat.
But the wind by the river came rolling in with moisture, perfectly tempering the heat and turning it into a breath of comfort.
Quite a few people stood along the riverbank, gazing into the distance and enjoying the breeze to relax. There were solitary men and women among them, but far more had come in pairs or groups.
Yet amid the crowd, one girl drew no small number of gazes.
The girl's attire did not quite match Xiang City's local style. She wore a red skirt and white robes with wide sleeves—clothes generally seen only in film and television productions. According to research, they were the robes of some lost kingdom, corresponding to a mysterious and ancient profession: shrine maiden.
Even in film and television, such an element was rare, much less in reality.
More importantly, though, the girl possessed an ethereal aura. From afar, she looked like a beam of light shining upon the mortal world.
The occasional glimpse of a wrist as fair as the bright moon beneath her sleeves stirred not the slightest impure thought. Instead, it made one recall the purest patch of softness in one's heart—the earliest white moonlight.
At that moment, the girl was squatting on the beach, drawing with her fingers. More precisely, she was continuously drawing circles—large circles intersecting smaller ones—yet in the end, those circles of varying sizes formed a "tree."
To ordinary people, such art was undoubtedly a little too avant-garde to appreciate. Yet the girl was thoroughly enjoying herself.
Only when a round shadow fell over part of her did she finally raise her head.
She glanced at the newcomer, then immediately lowered her head again and continued finishing her work. It was not until several minutes later that she