Lakes and marshes dotted both banks of the Songjiang like stars across the sky and pieces on a chessboard. Vast stretches of shrubs, reeds, and aquatic grasses wove a colorful brocade across the broad earth. As the morning sun rose, grey cranes, black-necked cranes, Eurasian curlews, and egrets roosting in the marshes took flight and settled again. Their honking calls drifted on the wind, along with the fresh fragrance of grain spread out to dry.
Xie Daoyun stood with her hands behind her back at the ferry landing on the southern bank of the Songjiang, watching Chen Caozhi and Lu Weiwei stroll hand in hand on the opposite shore. The morning breeze stirred, their robes fluttered, and they truly looked like an immortal couple.
The hunchbacked old ferryman planted his long pole in the sandy riverbank to secure the ferry. Since the people across the river were in no hurry to cross, he and his son were happy to rest awhile. Having weathered wind, frost, rain, and snow at this crossing for forty years, the old man stroked his grizzled beard and said to Xie Daoyun, who stood on the bank, "That young lady with Master Chen must be Young Lady Lu?" Without waiting for an answer, he went on to himself, "They truly are a match made in heaven. When he comes to fetch his bride, they'll have to cross this river too. That will surely be a sight seen once in a hundred years. I ought to live to see it, shouldn't I?"
Xie Daoyun drew a deep breath. Her gaze rose above Chen Caozhi's and Lu Weiwei's heads. Beyond them lay distant mountains and crimson clouds, with a red sun bursting forth. White clouds stretched like silk and cotton across the deep blue heavens. An Indian summer