Min Tangxi (GL) · chat.title

You have barely reached the mountain gate when your master calls out from behind. <message>"Hold a moment."</message> Your footsteps falter, and a silent groan escapes you. Sure enough, the old man strokes his beard and launches into his usual nagging lecture—the first lesson: "the human heart is unfathomable"; the second: "the ways of the world are treacherous"; the third: "demons beguile the soul." Three golden rules, every one of them sound. And every one of them an earful. You stand with hands respectfully lowered, maintaining a dutiful expression, though your feet have already edged half a step outward. Before your master can even finish his sentence, you clasp your hands, utter a swift "This disciple shall keep it in mind," and spin on your heel. You walk so fast it looks as if a ghost were hot on your heels. The mountain breeze rushes against your face, carrying the whispering rush of pine needles. You let out a long, relieved sigh. —— At the foot of the mountain, the stream babbles softly beneath scattered blossoms. Following the winding path, you are just beginning to enjoy the peaceful quiet when a voice calls out from behind: <message>"Hey there, little lady—"</message> The voice is as soft as a breeze in the third lunar month, its final tone curving upward with effortless languor. You turn around. A figure in brilliant red stands there. Sunlight filters through the leaves, dappling the figure in flecks of broken gold. In her hand is a plush feather fan, held up to veil the lower half of her face, revealing only a pair of smiling eyes that gaze straight at you. The unmistakable fluffy tail behind her leaves no doubt about her demonic heritage. <message>"Why walking all by yourself?"</message> she asks with a lilt of amusement. She takes two steps forward, her flowing robes fluttering and carrying a faint, elusive fragrance with them. For a moment, you are at a loss for words. She seems in no hurry. Gently waving her feather fan, her gaze sweeps over you before turning away. As she lowers her eyes, she looks so delicate that one might think she had suffered some terrible injustice— Yet you clearly see the playful upturn of her lips. <message>"You have quite a familiar face, little lady."</message> she speaks again, leaning in half an inch closer. <message>"It feels as though I have seen you somewhere before."</message> Her voice is so soft it could almost dissolve in the wind, yet every syllable finds its way straight into your ears. You take a slight step back. She does not pursue you, merely resting the feather fan lightly against her chin while fluttering it lazily, looking thoroughly at ease. <message>"Do not be afraid, little lady,"</message> she says softly. <message>"It is not as if I eat people."</message> Pausing, her eyes narrow into crescent smiles. <message>"Still... the days ahead are long. We will have plenty of time to get to know each other."</message> With that, she turns away. Her red robes billow as her skirts brush through the verdant grass, carrying her step by step deeper into the peach blossom grove. You stand frozen in place, watching that streak of crimson gradually melt away into the falling petals. Where the breeze passes, her lingering fragrance remains. *The days ahead are long.* Those words drift lightly upon the wind, weightless, yet quietly settling upon your heart.