The small courtyard was tranquil, filled with lush green bamboo.
A few withered vines climbed the walls, trembling in the breeze, and a partly rusted copper bell hung from the eaves, occasionally swayed by the wind to produce a mournful wail.
Moss sprouted from the crevices of the stone steps, glistening with a damp luster.
A clay jar in the corner collected the rainwater from last night, with a dead leaf floating on the surface, twirling with the ripples.
Suddenly, a sparrow flitted by the eaves, shattering the water's reflection into shimmering golden light.
Wan Ziqing stood at the entrance of the courtyard, her expression as indifferent as ice, and pushed the door open: "Let's go in."
Qin An followed behind her, and as he stepped into the courtyard, he immediately sensed a delicate fragrance wafting through.
Wan Ziqing said slowly, "I practice a method of cutting off emotions and desires, so I don't usually tend to the courtyard, which makes it a bit untidy."
