Zha Muxi sat alone on a rattan chair by the window, holding an ancient scroll in her hand, but her thoughts were clearly not on the book. Her gaze passed through the half-open window and landed on the blooming peach blossom tree, complex emotions flickering in her eyes.
Suddenly, a gentle breeze swept by, shattering the tranquility of the petals. One of the petals, as if guided by destiny, drifted slowly and fluttered lightly toward Zha Muxi.
She gently reached out her hand, and the petal, as if drawn by a tether, landed lightly in her palm.
Chapter 118