Dawn Rain Peak, Rain Listening Pavilion.
The moon shone white, the breeze blew clear, and cold frost blanketed the wilds. Two women approached along a narrow path.
The woman in crimson parted the clouds and trod upon moonlight, her broad sleeves trailing mist. Gold threads adorned her skirts like falling stars, a glossy tint graced her lips, and half a sprig of golden osmanthus was tucked beside the jade hairpin at her temple. Wherever her subtle fragrance passed, even the night mist seemed flushed with wine.
The woman in white walked on air in plain shoes, sheer gauze veiling snow. The jade flute at her waist sounded no note, yet seemed to give rise to clear autumnal music. Frost gathered between her brows, and the drifting fireflies beneath her feet made way, as though awed by her radiance and afraid to sully her flawless soul of ice.
"The moon is bright and the stars sparse tonight. It's an excellent time to gather qi."
Li Zhouying stood out against the night in her broad-sleeved crimson robes. She turned back and asked in puzzlement:
"The True Person said you needn't concern yourself with spiritual qi. You only have to ask, so why go to the trouble of gathering it yourself?"
She truly could not understand it. It was only one kind of spiritual qi, and the True Person had already given instructions. There were plenty of people on the peak who could gather it for her; all she needed to do was cultivate in peace. Why toil at it herself day after day?
In white robes and plain shoes, Shang Qingzheng glowed beneath the moon, looking like a goddess descended to earth. She lifted her brows and said:
"It's no trouble. I'm willing to do it myself. Besides, qi gathered with my