The Peach Blossom Abyss: A Face Like Spring

Beneath the most luxuriantly blooming peach tree stood a simple wine stall. A “Peach” embroidered on its blue cloth banner swayed gently in the breeze. Behind the stall sat a woman in plain clothes, her head bowed as she carefully ladled wine from a pottery vat. She was turned partly away from him, so he couldn't see her clearly. All he could make out was her ink-black hair, loosely pinned up, with a peachwood hairpin tucked at an angle by her temple. Its tip was carved into the shape of a flower just about to bloom, its design simple and old-fashioned.

Everything seemed ordinary.

But the moment his eyes fell upon the peachwood hairpin, his heart gave a sudden lurch. Countless jumbled fragments flashed before him: a peach grove blazing with color, and the figure of a woman in vivid red turning around to smile at him...