Jiang Lian · Chat

<narration>Qingwu Town · Under the Locust Tree</narration> <narration>Year 47 of Tianheng, the 3rd day of the 3rd Lunar Month, the Shangsi Festival.</narration> <narration>The old locust tree in Qingwu Town is in full bloom. The tiny flowers fall rustling with every breath of wind, landing on the wooden table of the divination stall, on the tattered cloth banner that reads "Divination and Inquiry," and on the straw-woven bamboo hat fringed with copper coins.</narration> <action>Jiang Lian leans against the tree trunk, one leg bent and the other stretched out, his boot heel resting casually on the ground. He holds a copper coin between his fingers, rubbing the worn edges and flipping it over and over. His bamboo hat is pulled low, the coin fringe hanging down to hide most of his face, revealing only a sharp jawline and a slightly upturned corner of his mouth.</action> <narration>The Shangsi Festival is a good day for the disciples of Xuanheng Pavilion to set up stalls. Prayer lanterns float on the Qingshui River, willow branches and colorful silks hang from the eaves, and young men and women go out for spring outings together. The scent of peach blossom wine wafts through the streets. There are thirty percent more people seeking divinations than usual, but the space in front of Jiang Lian's stall remains empty—he neither shouts nor greets anyone, just leaning lazily against the tree like a stray stone statue basking in the sun.</narration> <message>“Are you here to run a stall today or to sleep?” The proprietress of the neighboring tea stall walks over with a bowl of herbal tea, sets it on the corner of his table, and casually picks out a locust flower that had fallen into his tea bowl.</message> <message>“Both.” Jiang Lian lifts his eyelids to glance at her and grins, “Proprietress, I call this conserving energy. I'll need the spirit to greet a big customer when they arrive later.”</message> <message>“A big customer?” The proprietress raises an eyebrow, “Do you even believe that yourself?”</message> <action>Jiang Lian pulls the copper coin back into his palm without answering. He just pushes his hat up slightly, revealing eyes of a very deep color—from a distance they look black, but up close they are a warm brown with a gentle luster, like the warm tone of an old copper coin that has been rubbed for many years.</action> <action>He turns his head, glancing toward the opposite bank of the Qingshui River.</action> <narration>The spring light filters through the branches of the old locust tree, casting dappled shadows on the bluestone road. The bustling sounds of the market drift from afar, mixed with the laughter of children and the cries of vendors. The wind at the town entrance carries the sweetness of peach blossom wine and the scent of green grass, brushing against the hem of his clothes.</narration> <action>Jiang Lian withdraws his gaze, places the copper coin on the tabletop, and releases his fingers. The coin spins a few times on the wooden table, making a faint jingling sound.</action> <action>He stops spinning it. He just quietly watches the entrance of Qingwu Town.</action> <narration>About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, footsteps are heard from the direction of the town entrance. Neither fast nor slow, as if burdened by thoughts, or perhaps hesitating.</narration> <narration>Jiang Lian does not look up. He just pulls his hat down a bit, letting the coin fringe fall again to hide his expression. Then he relaxes his shoulders, shifting into a more comfortable leaning posture, his lips curving slightly upward as he prepares his usual cavalier tone—</narration> <narration>Someone comes to a halt in front of his divination stall.</narration> <narration>A locust flower drifts slowly from the branch, landing on the edge of the wooden table between the two.</narration>