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Before her stood an ancient-style structure, nestled quietly at the foot of a serene hill, enclosed by towering cypress trees that seemed to have stood for a hundred years.
The air was cooler here, soft and fragrant with hints of aged sandalwood and earthy pu'er tea.
The massive wooden gate was adorned with intricate carvings of phoenixes and dragons, their features worn but still majestic, whispering stories of tradition and power.
Beyond the low stone wall, she saw men in long robes seated beneath parasols, their posture graceful and composed.
Some had long beards flowing down their chests as they played Go with focused expressions.
Others sipped tea from delicate porcelain cups, their eyes half-lidded in calm reverie.
Lin Yue clutched the strap of her bag a little tighter.
What the actual heck...
Was she still on earth?
More importantly... was she still in Lianhai?
This place—this secluded, time-warped haven—looked like something pulled straight from a historical drama.
No, really—was this some sort of historical movie set? Some top-secret club? Or had she just walked into the secret council of Lianhai's most powerful elders?
Was this really the Xianglu Pavilion Master Fu had mentioned?
It didn't look like a normal meeting place. This place looked… sacred.
She stepped back, half-convinced she'd walked into a restricted zone.
Trying to calm the sudden storm in her chest, she quickly pulled out her phone and called Master Fu.
He picked up after one ring. "Yue girl, you've arrived?"
"Master Fu, um… I think I'm here. But, it looks… old. Ancient."
Master Fu chuckled on the other end. "You're at the right place, Yue Girl. I've sent someone to fetch you."
Before she could ask more, the call ended.
—
About five minutes later, the heavy gates creaked open.
A man in a gray robe stood at the threshold, his hair combed back neatly, eyes calm like still water.
"Miss Lin?" he asked.
Lin Yue nodded hesitantly.
"Please follow me."
With a respectful bow, he turned and walked in.
Lin Yue followed, clutching her bag and scanning the surroundings like a cautious cat.
—
Once past the gate, the world shifted.
Inside, it was even more extraordinary.
Beyond the outer wall, a wide courtyard opened, filled with lush lotus ponds, koi fish darting under jade-colored leaves. Arched bridges crossed over tiny streams.
Every corner was curated with impeccable taste—bonsai trees, stone lanterns, and delicate wind chimes that sang with the breeze.
The architecture felt like a painting come to life.
Stone pathways weaved through vibrant flower gardens. Plum blossoms, even though out of season, gently scattered their petals across the walkway as if enchanted.
Willows dipped their slender arms into a stream that flowed through the compound, its surface reflecting the jade-green of nature. Small arched bridges stretched over it, and every few steps she saw circular doors that led into quaint courtyards.
The silence was profound, filled only with birdsong and the distant murmur of wind chimes.
—
They approached a small room by the river—though calling it small felt inappropriate.
The structure was modest in size but radiated luxury in its craftsmanship.
Dark lacquered wood. Hand-painted window screens. Roof tiles arranged like scales on a dragon's back.
She noticed women in silk qipaos gliding past them with trays of tea leaves and jade-colored cups.
Each movement they made was graceful, their faces serene like porcelain dolls trained in elegance.
The aroma of fresh tea, chrysanthemum, and jasmine drifted faintly through the air.
—
Her heart stirred.
Mrs. Tang.
Her elderly neighbor who used to invite her over when her family left for day-long outings.
She'd taught Lin Yue how to brew proper tea—tieguanyin, longjing, and pu'er—saying tea taught patience and heart.
Those quiet afternoons had been her only peace. After finishing her house chores, Lin Yue would rush next door, eager to learn.
But it had been more than eight years since she last held a tea set like that.
Since Mrs. Tang passed away.
A dull ache tugged at her chest, but she quickly blinked it away.
Not now.
—
The man paused before the door and knocked gently. A voice called out from inside.
The door opened.
Standing there, beaming was Master Fu.
"Yue Girl! Come in!" he greeted warmly.
Lin Yue bowed slightly. "Master Fu."
He motioned her inside with a wide smile. "Come in, come in."
As she stepped in, she couldn't help but look around.
The tea house was warm and wooden, lit by natural light filtering through bamboo blinds.
A low wooden table sat in the middle, set with a complete tea ceremony set, from the Yixing clay teapot to the tiny aroma cups.
Paintings of mountains and calligraphy adorned the walls.
The aroma of oolong tea filled the air.
Master Lu stood up with a cheerful laugh.
"Yue Girl, you forgot me already?"
Lin Yue smiled politely. "Master Lu."
He clapped his hands happily. "That's more like it. Come, sit, sit."
She was about to lower herself onto a small stool near the table when another unfamiliar old man, sitting next to Master Lu, suddenly leaned forward.
His stare was intense. Unblinking. Examining every inch of her face.
"Are you the one they call Yue?" he asked.
His voice was low, steady, but held a strange tension.
Lin Yue paused, unsure. "…Yes."
The man continued staring, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.
Master Lu laughed, a little too loudly. "That's her, alright. Our Yue Girl. The painter I told you about."
Master Fu chuckled proudly. "She's the one shaking the art world lately. Genius, I tell you. No formal training, yet… she paints with soul."
Lin Yue flushed, eyes lowering.
"Thank you," she murmured.
The man finally leaned back slightly, but his gaze never wavered.
"I'm Chen Weixian," he said calmly. "Former Deputy Chief of the Lianhai Cultural Preservation Bureau."
Lin Yue's eyes widened slightly.
She stood up quickly, bowing. "It's an honor, sir. I'm Lin Yue."
He studied her again, then asked, "What does your family do?"
Lin Yue blinked.
"What's your mother's name?"
"Um…" Lin Yue glanced at Master Fu.
"How old are you? Where are you from originally?"
Lin Yue glanced toward Master Fu and Master Lu.
The air had shifted—grown tense.
Master Lu cleared his throat. "Old Chen…"
Chen Weixian didn't stop. "What school did you attend? Did you ever travel abroad?"
Lin Yue frowned slightly. "Um… sir, may I ask why?"
The awkwardness thickened.
Her brows furrowed. Why was he asking so many personal questions?
Before she could ask again, Master Chen leaned back and chuckled awkwardly, waving a hand.
"Forgive me. Just an old man's curiosity."
But then he turned to Master Fu and asked, "Doesn't she look… almost exactly like Tang Lao?"
The room fell silent.
Master Fu's eyes widened slightly. Master Lu's smile faded.
All three turned their heads at the same time to look at her.
Lin Yue blinked, feeling the weight of their gaze, confused. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap.
"Tang Lao?" she repeated.
Her voice sounded small in the quiet room.
…Looked like?
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