A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, humming an ancient tune under the moon’s soft glow. Its waters carry tales of distant mountains and forgotten dreams. Willow branches dip lightly into the current, tracing ripples that vanish into the night. A lone heron stands vigil in the shallows, still as carved jade, while fireflies dance above the water like drifting stars. The air smells of wet earth and blooming lotus, a fragrance that lingers long after dawn breaks. Some say if you l...
