Winter Melon Tea

"Nai upon high toothpaste, intent severed, Nai's cycle of rebirth. Searching and searching, enduring and enduring, deer leeks branch, dew. Precious as a hundred taels of gold, rivers and seas take in ravines. Moth brows crowned, scholars compose, fragrance comes of itself." In the bronze mirror, a male immortal recited with his back turned. The image gradually blurred and disappeared.

A crystal-clear drop of water awoke on an apple branch in the snowy cold of the northeastern winter. "Tap." It fell straight into her palm, shattered, scattered, froze, and vanished without a trace. She wore the warmest clothes and fuzzy earmuffs. She could never be without warm fur, and drank winter's icy dew behind the warmest defenses. During the Republican era, warlords fought over divided territories. The dew and she met again, for the umpteenth time, in another turn of the cycle.

"Hey! Winter melon tea, coming up!" At the street market, among the stalls set up to make a living, someone was selling winter melon tea. The vendor spotted her at once. "Miss, this tea is made from winter melon, with a fragrant sweetness. We have it iced or hot. How about a bowl?" The peddler introduced the winter melon tea in wooden bowls with an honest, kindly smile, hoping to attract passersby. "One hot winter melon tea, please!" An unfamiliar voice and profile suddenly entered her field of vision. It was an officer in formal uniform. He brushed past her, took off his hat, sat down, rubbed his hands, and breathed into them. His breath steamed in the cold as he intently read the morning bulletin.

"A bowl of iced tea with sugar, please." As always, she chose the same.