Yun Yao returned to Shifang Mountain once again. This time, it was not to sleep in the hidden quiet of the mountains, but for the two-hundred-year-old jar of Qingling wine behind the Bamboo House.
In her memories, every year on the fifteenth day of the tenth month, she would unseal a jar of fine wine that had been aged for years, and get drunk for three whole days. During these three days, regardless of how the sun and moon turned, she would pay no heed to the mundane trifles of the outside world, untouched by the entanglements of the mortal realm.
She did not know when it had started, but on this exact day every year, her heart would feel as though it were being crushed alive by someone's bare hands, and her soul would wrench with a piercing pain, as if she might scatter into nothingness at the next second.
Chapter 43