A lone willow bends by the silent river, its branches tracing secrets on the water’s surface. An old fisherman rows slowly, his song blending with the evening breeze. He speaks of mountains that touch the clouds and a moon that sleeps in the lake’s embrace. Children gather to hear tales of dragons that dance in thunderstorms and phoenixes nesting in the eastern dawn. Their laughter echoes like wind chimes, carried far beyond the village walls. Time flows as gently as the current, weaving memo...