Sour, sweet, bitter, salty, the mixed flavors of medicinal herbs wafted out from the half-open window of 'Authentic Botany', bringing bliss to every passing wizard; green, yellow, red, white, black, the interwoven fabrics of these five colors hung on the racks in 'Green Xifang', causing every witch who passed by to linger without moving on; poetry, books, rites, the Book of Changes, and the Spring and Autumn Annals, the bound copies of these five classics were piled up in the corner of 'Tomb Index Mound', their pages yellowing and their cotton threads darkening.
Hui Zi Ji was still as comfortable and fitting as ever.
Zheng Qing walked on the bluestone road, bowing left and right, greeting the neighbors; Deng Xiaoxian followed step by step behind him, hands clasped behind his head, looking up at the strip of blue sky above, yawning continuously.
