Perhaps last night's moonlight, like bolts of silk, with a silver disc hanging high in the sky, had quietly foretold that today would be a bright, clear day.
Morning light had just broken. The dazzling sun hung high in the heavens, shining upon the night's snow until it glistened like crystal. Some of the snow had begun to melt as well.
Inside the room.
Golden sunlight streamed through the window lattice, falling in scattered patches across the book in your hands and leaving specks of gold upon it.
You too felt a little more spirited.
After the snow, the sky had cleared; ice and snow were thawing, and the rising chill made it far colder than yesterday.
The heated kang in the room was still blazing hot, but the tightly shut door stood open, and the sunlight cast a bright square of light upon the floor.
Early that morning, Parasol Tree had gone to the market to buy the household's rice, flour, and fresh meat for the coming days. With the year-end approaching, she had been busy beyond measure.
Leaning by the window, your brush danced like dragons and serpents as you practiced calligraphy with full concentration. You had already practiced your stance ten times that morning, then focused your mind on contemplating the wonders of the Ghost-Slaying Sword, feeling your heart grow ever more tranquil.
The tea on the stove had been bubbling away, steam curling upward in wisps.
Your gaze shifted slightly. You lifted your brush and added one final stroke to the last Divine General Capturing Ghosts Painting. With a slight movement of your hand, the paper ignited without fire, turning into black ash that spiraled into the furnace.
You slowly rose from the heated kang and walked outside, your gaze passing over the courtyard before settling