The grass waved in the wind. It had grown long green blades after all the rain. The cultivators effort was not for naught.
These grasses gave the barren realm a sign of life. A fighting chance that was never there before.
There was now a large field of green. The grasses had yet to cover the barren realm from hill to vale.
But it was "enough" of a sight to see.
Amongst these waving green blades were four women. They were discussing something with each other, while there was a tiny speck of white watching over them from the side.
Tian Mengshen was staring listlessly at the yellow tree — Yellow Prance.
If the little ghost's heart were to beat it would wavered in and out of tone. Like a lousy opera tune.
Just a sight of a yellow leaf from the yellow tree brought him into a memory he both cherished and longed to bury.
Tucked into a box. Buried away until he could dig it up when the time was right.