Ancient Short Stories-Zi Qin

I don't know how many times he dreamed about it at midnight, but there was always a voice softly calling "Master" and "Master" in his ears, which made his heart feel soft, but suddenly sour. The past hundred years have passed in silence, and there is only a dying peach tree and a broken piano on Qingzhu Peak. He spends his days in seclusion, concentrating on practicing magic, and never suffers such serious injuries again. However, he can't explain why he works so hard. The person he wanted to protect and wait for might never appear again.