The moon was full above Feilun Sect.
Its silvery light spilled over the central courtyard like liquid serenity, illuminating the curved rooftops, the glimmering mist, and the edges of spirit wards that hummed gently in the night.
Somewhere in the distance, firecrackers went off.
Tian Shen leaned against the old camphor tree beside the training pond, sipping quietly from a jade gourd filled with warmed spirit wine.
He had no idea who had set off the fireworks, but judging by the faint drunken cheering from the western courtyard, he didn't have to guess long.
Feng Yin sat beside him, her shoulder brushing his. She wasn't wearing her usual formal robes but instead a loose inner robe of twilight blue, sleeves rolled up, hair loosely tied back. She had a peach slice skewered on her brush.
