The Yellow Springs Guest: Gu Zi'an

The snow had finally stopped. Somehow, a silver hairpin had appeared on the wooden door of the Yellow Springs Inn. Dew glistened on its pearl ornament, much like the faintest hint of a smile on Gu Zi'an's face before the end, paler even than the snow. And from that day on, a legend took root in this world: on snowy nights, people sometimes heard the strains of opera and the scent of wine drifting from the Yellow Springs Inn, yet no one ever saw again the pale figure reclining against a bamboo couch, leafing through Records of Rebirth…