Chen Tang looked up at the sky, as if he saw thousands of fireflies rising in the direction of Yinshan Mountain. Those fireflies danced in the night sky, like elves, and they seemed to be telling something, singing the soul-calling ballads sung by the herdsmen in the Chinese taught by Zhaojun. The ballad was melodious and poignant, just like Zhaojun's gentle voice, crossing the barriers of time and space, echoing in the night sky of Chang'an City. Chen Tang closed his eyes and allowed the rumors to drown him. His heart was filled with endless sorrow and longing for Zhaojun, for the passing years, and for this unpredictable life.
