Along the tranquil and ancient path, a gentle breeze swept by like soft hands. It carried the fresh scent of mountain grass and the crisp vitality of a distant stream. Where the wind passed, branches and leaves rustled, as if whispering an ancient, mysterious ballad.
In this dreamlike atmosphere, a graceful young man in yellow Daoist robes appeared within Little Nana’s line of sight, as if stepping directly out of a painting. The yellow robes were bright and striking, like chrysanthemums in autumn, radiating a soft glow under the sunlight. The fabric was light and ethereal, dancing with the breeze as if celestial clouds had drifted down to the mortal world. The young man stood tall and straight as a pine, his movements light and steady; every step seemed to follow a rhythm, carrying an air of unique elegance and composure. His face was fair as jade, his brows were like distant mountains, and his eyes were clear and bright, like deep, mysterious springs. Below his high-bridged nose, his thin, finely contoured lips curled into a faint smile, as if all the world’s troubles had nothing to do with him.
Little Nana’s gaze froze upon him, and her heart began to race like a startled fawn. Countless nights of dreams flooded her mind—this man was exactly as he had appeared in her dreams time and time again. In those dreams, he was always smiling warmly, holding her hand as they strolled through flowering mountain meadows or sat by the babbling brook, listening to the water and sharin…
Chapter 180