A tale unfolds by the silent riverbank, where an ancient willow tree has stood for centuries. Local villagers believe its leaves carry fragments of forgotten dreams. One evening, a young poet rests beneath its branches and hears faint verses drifting through the rustling leaves—lines from poems lost to time. He spends seven nights transcribing the whispers, discovering they form a complete epic about the moon’s journey across dynasties. The poem ends with the willow itself sighing, “I am but ...
