Guardian of the Heart

Chapter 7: Telepathic Single Finger Technique

In the faint light of early spring, Zhu Yuandi embarked on her journey to West Lake in Hangzhou, her heart filled with anticipation for Mu Daoist and an uneasy sense of the unknown. Her wheels rolled slowly along the long road, much like her never-ending longing, passing through the tail end of winter, carrying the message of spring and a subtle, imperceptible anxiety.

The scenery outside the window changed continuously, from the bustling streets of the capital to the serene countryside on the outskirts, and finally to the rolling hills in the distance, each seeming to mirror a part of her inner state. Zhu Yuandi gazed out the window, watching as the chilly bare branches gradually adorned themselves with fresh green, as if whispering tales of rebirth and hope to her.

Her hand lightly rested against the cold glass of the window, her fingertips touching the passage of time, those moments of long waiting and yearning. On the journey to West Lake, the scent of spring became even more pronounced, with the fragrances of flowers, earth, and the freshness of new leaves subtly intermingling in the air.

As the carriage finally entered the gates of Hangzhou, waves of green willow branches and vibrant flowers greeted her, like a grand celebration. The distant West Lake seemed to beckon her, welcoming her into this place filled with poetry and dreams. The city's streets, so different from the capital, were paved with stone reflecting the morning light, exuding an ancient and gentle charm. Pedestrians on the streets, some in haste, others leisurely, each seemed to carry their own stories and secrets.

A sudden sense of melancholy filled Zhu Yuandi's heart. The beauty of this ancient city was not just in its picturesque views but also in the poetry and distant horizons hidden within ordinary life. She remembered Mu Daoist's words that true travel was about seeking answers within oneself, not merely a change of geography.

The carriage moved slowly through winding alleyways, these alleys seemed to have a life of their own, with every corner unveiling layers of veils. Finally, West Lake appeared in Zhu Yuandi's view, its surface like a mirror reflecting the blue sky and distant green mountains. She stepped out of the carriage, gently treading on this ancient and mysterious land. Everything around her seemed so vivid yet elusive, like a tantalizing mirage. The promise they made in the river city was like an unfinished melody echoing in her heart. Their reunion was like the springwater of West Lake, both clear and bottomless. She thought, if Mu Daoist could appear by the lake at this moment, then this spring would be complete.

Zhu Yuandi's heart, like West Lake itself, appeared calm on the surface but harbored a thousand twists and turns of emotions underneath. She would wait, wait for the one who could share in the beauty of this spring day with her, and share their hearts' desires. In this season of their agreement, she silently entrusted her innermost thoughts to every ripple in West Lake's waters.

In the spring breeze, Zhu Yuandi's heart seemed to beat gently in rhythm with the ripples of West Lake. She stood by the lakeside, and the scenery before her resembled an ink-wash landscape painting – distant mountains cloaked in green, pavilions by the water, and the emerald waves rippling. Her eyes searched the crowd for a familiar figure, her heart filled with anticipation and nervousness.

Mu Daoist finally appeared in Zhu Yuandi's line of sight. His presence seemed to blend with the spring breeze, light and distant. He approached quietly, his steps carrying the steadiness of years and a subtle, imperceptible weariness.

In the soft spring light, Zhu Yuandi and Mu Daoist's gazes met silently, like two clear streams converging without a sound. Mu Daoist's eyes seemed to hold a deep pool of springwater, unfathomable yet gently rippling with the past.