In the dark of the night, a ring of dimly lit candles graced Zhu Qingyue's courtyard in an arc of flickering warm yellow, the flames wavering with the occasional breeze.
Luckily, the weather was perfect for eating outside, neither too hot nor too cold. The commonly seen mist on top of the floating sect island had mysteriously dissipated. It was a rare and beautifully clear night with a brilliant array of stars shining high above.
The table in the yard was already set for dinner. An assortment of small porcelain plates with pickled vegetables, stuffed dumplings and two rice bowls were laid on top of the stone surface along with the accompanying sets of chopsticks. In the middle, several cups were placed beside a large steaming teapot.
The exquisite meal and carefully arranged cloister was concealed from prying eyes by the dense foliage and the camphor wood slatwall panels surrounding it.
