The mountain mist drifted slowly like a light veil, gathering at times and dispersing at others, akin to a mysterious dancer performing gracefully amidst the landscape. Wherever the mist permeated, trees, flowers, and grass were draped in a hazy gossamer, creating the illusion of a fairyland.
From the distant valley came bursts of crisp birdsong, rising and falling in succession, weaving into a melodious natural symphony.
Cheng Zongyang stood quietly on the platform, immersed in this picturesque scenery.
Time flowed leisurely by. After a long while, Cheng Zongyang seemed to peacefully awaken from deep contemplation. He slowly opened his mouth and said, "Soul."
Soul, which had been obediently sitting beside Cheng Zongyang all this while, seemed to be awakened. It became instantly alert and couldn't help but look up, staring straight at him with an inquiring and focused gaze.
