A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, humming an ancient tune under the silver moonlight. Two fireflies dance above the water, their fleeting glow painting brief constellations on the dark surface. An old willow dips its branches into the current, as if listening to secrets carried from distant mountains. Some say the brook remembers every story it has ever heard—whispers of lovers, sighs of wanderers, and laughter of children skipping stones. Tonight, it murmurs a forgotten poem...
