Mists of the Immortal Path
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Autumn in the Painted Hall
A cup of wine, a sword, a fishing hook,
Through sea-borne rain and winds of heaven, free to stay or go.
Last night, I sought old dreams with yearning heart,
An inch of longing, an inch of sorrow.
-Guan Pingchao
Note: Each volume has an opening poem, following an old tradition to suit the occasion. I humbly ask readers not to mind; if it is not to your taste, please skip it. The public edition has now been updated through the end of Volume Eleven. Thank you for your support! :)
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