“Ping’er, why do you think these peach blossoms are blooming so gorgeously today?” A crisp voice rang out, as melodious as her clear face, so gentle and moving. What kind of woman was she, evoking such an indescribable affection? “Pff… Miss, these peach blossoms are the same as always, not particularly radiant. I think it’s Miss who’s going to have some peach blossom luck,” teased the little maid Ping’er with a sweet smile, showing no fear of her mistress.
The lady smiled back, dismissing it as nonsense, and playfully raised her right hand as if to discipline the maid, “Ping’er, are you asking for a beating? Haven’t I disciplined you for days, are you getting itchy?”
“Haha, Miss, when have you ever disciplined me?” With that, Ping’er dashed into the depths of the peach blossoms, her laughter like silver bells echoing through the grove. The pale pink and emerald green figures weaved through the trees, playing a game of chase.
Tianshan, shrouded in vast white mist, its peak piercing the clouds, deterred many who came seeking immortal herbs. Yet, at this very moment, on such a steep cliff, two seemingly frail women were arduously climbing. They were evidently familiar with the path, deftly scaling upwards, their fair hands now stained with soil and moss, gripping onto protruding rocks to pull themselves up.
