The Joys of Sharing with You

Liu Wuqiao was always wondering what kind of person Fang Yayi really was. Fang Yayi’s face was a little pale, and his eyebrows were long and fine, like the most delicate willow leaves in the second month of spring. His eyes were long and narrow too. When he smiled, they seemed narrower still, and a glimmer like starlight on autumn waters spilled from them. And this man dealt with spirits and ghosts. He spoke to demons and spirits just as he would to ordinary people. Even when chanting incantations, he was gentle. Liu Wuqiao didn’t even know whether Fang Yayi was human. What he knew even less was that Fang Yayi’s tenderness belonged to one person alone. The time: the waning years of the Tang Dynasty, as its golden age drew to a close.