Pages of musings and short, tiny tales.
Brief stories that linger in the mind.
This collection is woven entirely from love and tears.
Prologue
At the summit of Jiuxian Mountain stood a majestic palace called Jiuxian Palace. The lonely, chilly hall was lit by only a few dim oil lamps, their flames flickering from time to time. A woman in white sat on the highest throne in the palace, her expression indifferent, her eyes utterly devoid of feeling. That woman was me, Huan Shi, the Mistress of Jiuxian Palace.
I was once a cultivator seeking immortality. Now I can wield magic, but I can neither become an immortal nor die. I have lived in solitude for thousands of years, witnessing the world's rise and fall, its greatest joys and sorrows. I cannot change anything. All I can do is record these stories, so they will not be lost to future generations.
A great many scrolls and bamboo slips of all shapes and sizes are arranged neatly on the desk. As I run my hand over them, I know that each one records a legend.
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