The situation had reached a stalemate. Years of war had left all three kingdoms short of both troops and provisions.
And so, as the new year approached, the three kingdoms agreed to a brief peace.
At least, that was how it appeared on the surface.
Chu Qingjiu was in poor health and rarely went outside. He spent most of his days in his room.
Qi Wu was young and lively, and Chu Qingjiu was actually quite fond of his spirited nature.
He had not bestowed a name on Qi Wu, because he considered Qi Wu not his slave, but his eyes.
Sometimes, when Qi Wu saw how listless he was, he would tell him stories about his time in Sweet City.
Sweet City had a Singing Sands Mountain. Among its rolling dunes lay an oasis, with a spring shaped very much like a crescent moon.
Drinking beneath the moon at night, accompanied by the chirping of insects, was a pleasure in its own right.
There was also a place in Sweet City surrounded by mountains on all sides. Mist rose there in the early morning, shrouding the towering peaks until their hazy outlines could barely be made out.
Chu Qingjiu always listened quietly, as though those vibrant landscapes had appeared before him.
Through Qi Wu's descriptions, he saw those mountains and waters.
Yet a faint sorrow always lingered between his brows, and his sickly pallor seemed as fragile as thin paper.
The sight pained Qi Wu, so he tried even harder to tell jokes, hoping to ease the worries etched into Chu Qingjiu's face.
Since coming to the Grand Tutor's residence, he had never seen Chu Qingjiu smile. Not even once.
Grand Tutor Chu was growing old, and the situation remained uncertain. Had Chu Qingjiu not been so frail and