Beneath the moonlight, Tao Li shakes out his robes and strides away. Peach blossoms have already bloomed in the courtyard, ripe for the picking. A young man with a wine cup sways in the spring breeze, a peach blossom tucked into his waist, his spirit soaring. “Better to ride a crane. Don't get conceited, Ning. Just be a boy who never tires of splitting mountains.”
