The sound of someone's jade flute is flying silently, causing the shadows of candles to break through the painted screen.
When new snow covers the old courtyard steps, will those unfinished poems and incomplete chess pieces find a place to rest in the torrent of time?
(Narrated from the first-person perspective of a lamp, don't enter if you don't like it)
(All poems mentioned in the novel are original, please do not quote or use them in formal occasions)
Purpose: Tradition and Change