"You are..."
In a dream, he returned to Horseshoe Mountain and met a woman beside the White Stone amid the misty rain of the clear night. From her tone, she seemed very familiar with him. Yet when she turned around, Xing Yan saw a haze of clear light around her lovely head. Her dark hair and delicate lips were all lost in the misty rain, with pale clouds and drifting vapor encircling her. He could make out only her general outline, not her exact features. He also discovered that, if he looked casually, her beautiful face and graceful body seemed close at hand. Beneath the crescent moon still hanging in the rain, she was alluring and exquisite, slender and elegant. But whenever he opened his eyes wider to see her clearly, she drifted far away, as though hidden in clouds and mist, until he could barely see anything.
Still, though she seemed both near and distant, both real and illusory, Xing Yan could be certain of one thing: he had never before seen this graceful, fairy-like woman who seemed forever coming and going. In this dream of clouds and mist, everything seemed to pass straight from the heart to the face. As this thought crossed his mind, bewilderment appeared in his expression. Seeing him like this, the beautiful woman murmured:
"I thought that learning to speak that way would make us seem closer."
After murmuring to herself, she changed her expression and let her voice and features grow clearer. Amid the strands of rain and drifting clouds, she gathered her skirts and bowed to him, saying with dignity:
"I am Yao Guang. I have come today to bid my master farewell."
"...Yao Guang?!"
"May I ask how you know me, and why you call me your master?"
Although he knew