Night had only just fallen when the lights drove part of the darkness away.
Xiang City's Flower Goddess Festival could be called the most important festival in this little city besides the Spring Festival—bar none.
In ancient Mythology, the Flower Goddess was the younger sister of the Heavenly Emperor. She had once descended to this place and used the essence of a hundred flowers to drive away the plague.
The Flower Goddess Festival marked the day the Flower Goddess came to the mortal world.
Of course, in this day and age, young people celebrated the festival not so much to commemorate tradition, but more for the liveliness—and to reminisce about their childhood.
Back then, beneath the scattered glow of lanterns, they would link arms with their companions and wander the night, while countless bright lamps illuminated the vault of Heaven...
Indeed, looking at it now, the feeling of childhood could no longer be found. But there were still lingering echoes of it, enough to be savored.
At that moment, Zhao Dong had changed into a new outfit and was weaving through the sea of people with his two friends, rediscovering a trace of that old feeling.
He was dressed in Hanfu, black as its base color. Though his features were still somewhat youthful, he carried a hint of an ancient wandering swordsman's air.
As for Chen Yingluo, she wore a flowing skirt and vermilion hairpins, with light makeup on her face. She looked like a refined young lady from ancient times. When she sat quietly without speaking or pulling strange antics, she truly had a little of a wealthy young miss's bearing.
Jiang Xin's attire was closer to Zhao Dong's, only his temperament was different—far too scholarly.
"I'm telling you, when the moon reaches its zenith and the Flower Goddess