After work, the wisteria flower room was a gathering place for seven maids of distinct temperaments. Some sat at the table drinking tea, some leaned against the side of the doorframe, while others closed their eyes to listen, and at that moment in their midst, a figure, still somewhat childish, sat on a high stool with closed eyes playing the violin.
The tranquil music flowed quietly in the flower room bathed in the afterglow, and immersing in it was like a walk under a far and azure sky with a sea of flowers sprawling across the hills and dales. The soft petals bloomed amid the sunshine, swaying tenderly and brilliantly, as if one were falling into a dream.
Remembering the climb up the high tower stairs, with the warm rock walls as support, the scenery inside that white castle was so vivid and memorable. With her music, Hexia narrated that distant golden dream, the scenery she saw in her dreams that day, and the delicate emotions carried by the singing.
The piece concluded.
