The Song of Tushan

Snowflakes drifted down, covering the courtyard in white. White robes fluttered, a jade crown gleamed, ink-black hair flowed like water, and a sword rested at his side. An immortal blended into the snowy scene, becoming a painting. Luo Shi looked up at the red plum blossoms blooming in the courtyard wind and held out his hand to catch a falling crimson petal. His expression revealed neither joy nor sorrow. “Master, why does Little Martial Uncle always stare at the plum blossoms by himself?” A young immortal looked up at the other immortal beside him, dressed in blue with ink-black hair. Luo Lin said nothing. His gaze rested on the “snowman” draped in plum blossoms. He was waiting for someone. The plum blossoms gave off their fragrance, but the one he awaited never returned. - When Zhu Xin first met Luo Shi, he thought that the rumors were true: this must be Lord Lingsong, famed on Jiuchong Mountain for his cool aloofness. He looked every bit like someone who had never lifted a finger for himself. But when Zhu Xin saw the snow-white immortal pick up his chopsticks and reach without hesitation for the fragrant sea cucumber and pork trotter dish, he reconsidered. Perhaps the rumors weren’t entirely true. Watching Lord Lingsong eat with such relish, Zhu Xin, whose mind was usually sparse on poetry and elegant turns of phrase, suddenly thought of the words “a feast for the eyes.” He must really be hungry. - A warm on the outside, cold-hearted fake villain gong × a cold on the outside, warm-hearted true Dao cultivator shou