A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, humming an ancient tune under the silver moonlight. Its watery fingers trace the roots of old willows, carrying stories from distant mountains to the sleeping village below. An old fisherman sits by the bank, mending his net with gnarled hands, listening to the water’s whispered secrets of forgotten kings and lost loves. Fireflies dance like floating embers above the ripples, blinking in rhythm with the croaking frogs. He smiles, for the broo...
