Chapter 23: A Fairy in the Darkness
Liang Feng had decided for the groups to camp out for a few days to rest and gather them selves when he noticed how the other’s is not in a correct mental state.
Of course, there was those that thought it was too dangerous but he was their employer and chose to keep quite.
The groups had all settled for the night after a long day.
Them, a soft sound caught everyone’s attention.
Beneath the canopy of ancient trees, the world felt hushed, as if nature itself waited in reverence. In the corner of the clearing, a woman sat cross-legged atop a smooth, weathered stone. Her robe, a rich cerulean blue, flowed like liquid moonlight around her, its edges embroidered with faint patterns of lotus blossoms that seemed to shimmer with each subtle shift.
Her hair, black as midnight, cascaded in loose waves down her back, bound only by a single silver pin shaped like an unfurling lotus. It gleamed faintly, catching the moon’s glow, a tiny beacon in the vast darkness. Her skin bore the clarity of polished jade, smooth and unmarred, exuding an unearthly calm. Long, delicate fingers, pale and steady, cradled a flute carved from lustrous white jade, its surface cool to the touch and etched with swirling runes that seemed to pulse faintly with their own inner rhythm.
The sound was tender at first, a fragile thread of music weaving into the stillness. It was a sound that painted the air, soft and crystalline, like drops of dew sliding from the edge of a petal. The notes danced lightly, rising and falling like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. Then came a deeper tone, rich and resonant, like the swell of an ocean wave crashing in the distance.
Her eyes, half-closed, glimmered with a reflective gray, their depths holding both secrets and sorrows. They seemed to drink in the moonlight, making it impossible to tell where her thoughts wandered. Shadows played gently across her features, sculpting her into something beyond mortal beauty, like a figure from an ancient tale.
The music was mournful yet captivating, each note a drop of sorrow spilling into the night. It was a song of longing, of whispered regrets and distant memories. The high notes rose like stars ascending the heavens, delicate and fleeting, while the lower tones curled around the listeners like the embrace of a cold mist.