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February 4, in the year of Geng-Xin.
Azure clouds floated atop the mountain, with faint golden light bursting forth.
The accumulated snow on the rooftiles cracked horizontally, and the slight sound of it shifting and sliding traveled far in the quiet morning.
Unlike the grand court assembly that started before dawn, the ritual sacrifice to heaven and earth had to wait for a day bathed in abundant sunlight.
Might rested on the jade-like bamboo tube, taking a rest, while the Little Shen Dragon circled in front of the copper mirror, dancing its body enchantingly.
One moment it posed as a dignified coiled dragon, another as a prancing flying dragon.
It was as if extremes would surely reverse.
Ever since the Mirage Insect transformed into the Little Shen Dragon, it'd grown quite vain - whenever there was a mirror, it would rush to take a look at itself.
