Under the tranquil canopy of spring, the forest was coming alive with a symphony of nightly sounds. The gentle crackling of their bonfire cast a warm, flickering glow over the trio.
Their carriage, a modest yet sturdy vehicle, stood nearby, and the scent of roasted birds mingled with the fresh, earthy aroma of the woods.
The day's journey had been long but uneventful beside the bird's ambush. As they settled around the fire, the cool spring breeze played with the flames, sending shadows dancing across their faces.
As they enjoyed the peace of the night, Zhao Shi, usually discreet about his past, broke the comfortable silence.
His gaze was fixed on the full moon hanging high in the sky, its silver light bathing the clearing in a serene glow.
"Does young master know there's a widespread tale in my hometown about the moon?" Zhao Shi began, his voice tinged with melancholy.
Spark, always eager for a story, leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "Let's hear it, Butler Zhao.."
Zhao Shi's voice took on a gentle, almost reverent tone as he shared the legend. "They say there's a path to another realm on the moon. Elders would gather their grandchildren around fires like this and speak of the Moon's Path. Every decade, when the moon was at its highest, it would cast a silvery path that seemed to connect to the Earth's surface.
Yuna, always supportive, nodded enthusiastically. "Don't be shy, Butler Zhao. The young master is generous. Just ask."
A small, almost imperceptible smile touched Zhao Shi's lips.
"I will keep that in mind," he said, his voice warm with gratitude.
They continued to chat by the fire, sharing stories and enjoying the quiet companionship. As the fire burned low, they eventually retreated to their tents. Zhao Shi, as always, meditated quietly in his tent, his mind still lingering on the moon and its mystical path.
...
Dawn broke gently over the forest, the sky painted with hues of pink and gold. Zhao Shi, ever the early riser, stepped out of his tent to greet the new day. But what he saw stopped him in his tracks.
In front of Spark's tent, there lay a pile of treasures—glistening jewels, ornate artifacts, and chests brimming with gold. It was as if a dragon's hoard had been deposited there overnight.
His thoughts raced back to their time in the city. Every day, without fail, a mysterious stalker had left a pile of presents at their doorstep.
"This... How...?" Zhao Shi's voice trailed off in disbelief.