The gentle night breeze shook the branches of the ancient sweet-scented osmanthus tree, sending a fresh shower of tiny yellow flowers drifting down onto the round stone table.
The sweet fragrance hung thick in the air, mingling with the clean steam rising from the porcelain cups.
Yan Renhua poured more hot water into the teapot, her eyes bright with a soft, rare peace as she watched the two young people sitting before her.
Ye Hongyan set her cup down on the stone with a light click. Her expression grew attentive, her posture straightening as she turned toward her mother.
Ye Hongyan reached into her wide crimson sleeve, pulling out a long, slender box carved from clear, deep-sea cold jade.
The surface of the box gave off a thin, cool mist that smelled of fresh morning dew and wild mint, keeping whatever lay inside safe from the rot of time.
