A tale unfolds where two rivers meet, beneath an ancient willow’s shade. A young scholar once carved his dreams upon its bark, hoping the winds would carry them afar. Years passed, storms weathered its branches, yet the words remained—faint but enduring. One autumn, a traveler paused to rest, tracing the faded script with curious fingers. In that moment, the willow seemed to sigh, rustling leaves like pages turning. The traveler smiled, for in those grooves, he found not just poetry, but the ...
