Perhaps it was because spring had arrived, or perhaps the area around Yan Mountain was simply like this, but the weather here had grown warmer. Even in the mountains where Yi Shuyuan stayed, it was far warmer than it had been on the Grand Canal.
Rain, warmth, and sunshine.
In the mountains where Yi Shuyuan stayed, the vegetation, once dominated by withered yellows, gradually began turning emerald green.
Or perhaps that was merely his own impression, because the greenery around him was richer than elsewhere in the mountains.
Another morning came, and sunlight gradually pierced the mountain woods, strands of light falling beside Yi Shuyuan.
A budding mountain flower grew nearby. Its leaves seemed heavy, laden with dew that weighed them down into drooping curves, until, at a certain moment, the droplets fell.
Yet the dew did not actually fall to the ground. Instead, it flew away beneath the sunlight, glittering like specks of starlight.
These little points of light kept appearing throughout this patch of mountain woods, flying into a white porcelain bowl.
Holding the white porcelain bowl in both forepaws, Hui Mian bounded all over the mountains, collecting morning light and radiant dew. Without anyone quite noticing, Hui Mian's abilities had already grown considerably.
After working busily for quite some time, Hui Mian collected over half a bowl of water, then ran excitedly back to the ruined hut beneath the cliff. Without making a sound, Hui Mian set the white porcelain bowl beside Yi Shuyuan, then took two pieces of dried fruit from a fold against the chest and laid them out as well.
Once everything was done, Hui Mian tiptoed some distance away, then vanished in a flash.
Qi Zhongbin's books were far more than dry, chronological records. Many included accounts of how he had dealt with