"The small courtyard is not bad. Though small, it has everything one needs."
"There's even flowers and fish being tended to. The General seems to have quite the interest."
"Is General Chen really planning to stay here for long?"
In the small courtyard, the setting sun cast its reflection, painting everything in golden light. Chen Yuan invited the Temple of Martial Arts priest to come under the pavilion.
The old man stood with his hands behind his back at the railing, surveying the courtyard's scenery. The golden light shone on him, and his deep eyes squinted, submerged in layers of loose wrinkles.
Chen Yuan sat down on a chair, conjured a white jade wine bottle out of thin air, then, as if by magic, a flick of his hand produced two jade cups.
He had returned to Qingshan for over half a month, and one "guest" after another had come to the pavilion below.
