Star Track Weaving

The heavy rain was pouring down, washing away every inch of rock in the Qingming Mountains. Lin Che huddled in a cave on the mountain wall, listening to the thunder rolling behind the clouds, like the breathing of an ancient giant beast. He held a translucent jade box tightly in his arms. The box was engraved with fine silver patterns, and even though it was soaked by rain, it still emitted a faint warm light. Three days ago, when the master handed this jade box to his hand, his withered fingers were almost embedded in his arm.