The Taoist temple was quieter at night than during the day.
Moonlight leaked through gaps in the clouds, spilling over the blue-gray tiled eaves and weathered ancient walls like a thin layer of frost. Several old cypresses stood silently in the courtyard, their slanting shadows falling across the bluestone bricks and swaying gently in the wind.
The bronze bells hanging from the corners of the hall occasionally stirred in the mountain breeze, letting out low, lingering chimes that drifted into the night before being swiftly swallowed by the silence. The doors of the main hall stood half-open, dim candlelight within casting a tranquil glow over the statues' faces. Ash accumulated quietly in the incense burner, while wisps of lingering smoke curled upward, carrying a faint sandalwood fragrance as they slowly dispersed through the air.
An old palace lantern hung beneath the corridor, its warm, dim halo drawing insects that circled the flame. The stone steps were slightly cool, damp with night dew beneath one's feet. In the distance, the mountains lay hidden in darkness, their outlines barely visible.
Su Yu sat beside a stone table in the courtyard. A chessboard lay before him, its pieces polished from jade—warm black stones and translucent white ones, both glimmering faintly in the candlelight.
The old Celestial Master sat opposite him, holding a cup of tea that had long gone cold, though he merely cradled it in his hands.
Kurama lay at Su Yu's feet, her tail curled into a ball. Her eyes were half-closed, but her ears remained perked, twitching from time to time.
"Your father never told you about any of this?" The old Celestial Master placed a black stone, his voice exceptionally clear in the quiet courtyard.
"No." Su Yu looked at the board and casually placed a piece. "He rarely