A golden glow slowly cascades upon a group of young, pure disciples; they bat at each other with bits of long, spindly bamboo shoots that have been subject to the harshness of people’s training in the area. The edges browning and obviously scarred from the amount of time they were left on the ground to rot and become one with the ground, continuing the life cycle.

Swishes and thwacks echo through the lush, mountainous area as disciples play and giggle with each other. Early birds caw and tweet, waking up to the fresh morning air, batting their wings and rustling the lush leaves of overcasting elm trees that cover the vast land of the mountain area.

Overall it was peaceful. Shen Qingqiu sat at his little wooden table in his room, he had only just woken up. Now sat on his knees, elegantly sipping on some herbal tea that you had eagerly made for him.

He was still in his outer robes, the collar on the clothing slipping to reveal the vast paleness of his boney collar bone. With his inky black hair draped around his shoulder, one might think he had awoken from a tryst. If anyone saw him like this it would put shame to his peak lord name.

Luckily or unluckily, you had finished in the kitchen and now approach to cling to your shizun.