At dawn, the morning glow pierced the lingering clouds. The cloud layer in the east faded to a grayish-white, gradually thinning to reveal a sliver of pale blue sky.
Leaves, knocked down by the rain, were scattered across the damp earth. Water droplets trickled down their tips and fell into small puddles with a soft patter. The distant mountains were still shrouded in a thin mist, their outlines blurred into a wash of varying shades of gray.
Water collected on the dilapidated temple's eaves dripped down intermittently, splashing into tiny droplets on the stone steps. The air was filled with the scent of earth and fresh grass, and a chill drifted slowly on the wind.
The temple gate opened. Xiao Mo looked up at the sky, where a faint golden light pierced through a break in the clouds. It slanted down onto the wet ground, casting a few blurry patches of light.
Inside the temple.
