Amid the monotonous counting of ghosts, Qiong Rong finally sank into deep sleep, and Xing Yan gradually ceased his murmured lullaby.
Just then, a sea breeze blew in from the east, rustling his clothes, and he unconsciously held the girl in his arms more tightly. After a while, seeing that Qiong Rong's breathing had grown ever softer and more even, he descended as lightly as a tuft of cotton with her in his arms, turned her face upward, and carefully laid her beside the roots of the tall parasol tree. When her body touched down against the soft, delicate white sand, the sleeping girl mumbled something indistinctly, shook her head, then rolled onto her side with her back to the moonlight. Tucking her little hands beneath her head, she sank back into deep sleep.
Watching his little sister sleep, the boy, who had a few things weighing on his mind, rose and began pacing softly back and forth across the silver beach.
The night was deep. Judging by the positions of the stars, it was nearing the end of the hour of the Ox, the darkest time of the day. Though the bright moon hung overhead, all around was black and dim. Only the silvery beach beneath his feet shone like a mirror, as though all the radiance of the stars and moon had woven itself together and settled over this lonely sandbar.
After pacing for a while and listening carefully to the waves in the surrounding darkness, he detected nothing unusual. Xing Yan calmed his mind, sat cross-legged on the fine white sand, and closed his eyes in concentration beneath the brilliance of the stars and moon. Following the Art of Refining Spirit into Void as he understood it, he began refining the stellar and lunar essence that filled