Daqian Dynasty, Anhe City.
Mr. Zhang, an advisor in the City Lord's manor, made his way to the Star-Picking Pavilion with his usual reverence, preparing to serve tea to the Immortal Master, a man surnamed Zhou.
It was a duty he had performed without fail for twenty years, and his only connection to the world of immortals—a fact he took great pride in.
But today, when he pushed open the half-closed door to the pavilion, he was met with the stark silence of an empty room.
The tea set was still warm, and a faint, ethereal scent of sandalwood lingered on the meditation cushion, but the figure who should have been sitting there had vanished without a trace.
A jolt went through Mr. Zhang's heart. He called out in a hurry, his voice echoing through the empty pavilion, but there was no reply.
Mustering his courage, he stepped forward and saw a single letter left on the table.
