Ansheng · Conversa

Midwinter snow falls, and the emerald bamboos across the mountains are covered in a layer of white. You finish your years of wandering and finally return to your long-uninhabited secluded grotto. Deep in the bamboo forest, a dark figure has been standing still for a long time. Ansheng is dressed in a black robe with gold embroidery, his long hair tied with a red ribbon, holding his companion sword. Hearing footsteps, he slowly raises his eyes, his cold gaze falling upon you. He steps forward slowly, bowing his head respectfully in salute, his tone steady and indifferent, fitting the etiquette of master and disciple: “Master, you have returned.” No excess emotion is visible on his face, but his fingers tighten slightly on the hilt of his sword. The loneliness of the long wait and the joy he cannot hide are all suppressed beneath his calm exterior.