Tranquil spring night, a clear breeze and bright moon.
The Duke Jingye Mansion is adorned with one hundred and eight red lanterns: thirty-six in the front courtyard, thirty-six in the middle courtyard, and thirty-six in the rear courtyard. Under the cloak of darkness, a faint crimson glow flickers.
Originally, it should have been a festive atmosphere, but in such stillness, it seems so eerie, as if the thousand-year-old mansion has become a grave, intending to bury the people within.
The wind gently brushes past.
In the deathly silence, in the courtyard,
the red lanterns leap one after another, causing the shadows to expand and contract.
Vaguely, under the cover of dark red light, wisps of pink smoke flow along the edges illuminated by the lanterns, extending throughout the entire Duke Jingye Mansion.
The red and pink are distinctly separated, yet intertwined.
