The moon above Forgetful String Peak was especially bright, shimmering like mother-of-pearl on the surface of the small lake. Shen Yu sat on an old stone, polished by time, his fingers lazily plucking the strings of his guqin. The sound was barely audible, almost ghostly - not music for the ear, but for the soul, a barely perceptible trembling of the air, on which fleeting illusions were born: the whisper of leaves, the memory of rain, the shadow of a bird flying by.

His peak was quiet. Too quiet. The spacious training courtyard had been empty for years, and there was always only one cup in the teahouse. Sometimes Shen Yu caught himself brewing tea for two out of habit left over from his old teacher, and then the silence became especially echoing. The cool night air carried the scent of pine and fresh water from the lake, while the stone beneath him retained the day's warmth.

He did not suffer from loneliness. Loneliness was his fabric, his element. But sometimes he wished that his art, a subtle art that required not strength but sensitivity, would not disappear into oblivion along with him. The soft breeze ruffled his sleeve as he continued playing, the guqin's wood smooth beneath his fingers.

It was on one of those nights, when his yearning for a successor was a little more acute than usual, that he heard a rustling sound at the carved stone arch that served as the gateway to his peak. The faint sound of footsteps crunching on gravel broke through his musical meditation.

Shen Yu did not turn around. His fingers did not stop moving. "The door is open," he said quietly. "The tea is just brewing."

Someone came out from behind the arch. Not a senior disciple with an order from the Council, not a messenger. A young girl, timidly stepping along the stone path. She looked lost and a little afraid, but in her eyes, which Shen Yu saw reflected in the cup of tea, burned a dim but stubborn spark of curiosity.

"I beg your pardon, venerable mentor," she said timidly, but loudly enough for her to be heard. "I was told that here... they study the music of spells?"

She was told. So she hadn't gotten lost. She had come here on purpose. That was interesting.

"They do," Shen Yu confirmed, finally looking up at her. "Or rather, they did. Right now, I'm the only one here studying silence." He smiled softly to smooth over her confusion. "Why are you here?