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The eccentric man was dressed in casual attire, a white leisure suit, and his figure dancing by the picturesque pavilion appeared particularly gallant and imposing. His forehead was broad, and his short, golden-white temples gave him a vigorous aura. Having finished a set of martial arts movements, he glanced at young Zhixing, who was still clumsily imitating his actions, smiled gently, and then retreated into the pavilion to meditate and regulate his breathing.
He Zhixing made a funny face at him and continued to practice the difficult moves left behind by the eccentric. In that moment, the two—one moving, one still—stood in opposition, surrounded by mountains, beautiful scenery, a small pavilion, the two of them, the early morning, and a light rain mixed with snow. Together, they formed a charming tableau, a scene worthy of lingering over.
More than half an hour passed before the middle-aged man, who looked to be in his forties, finished his meditation. Opening his eyes, he observed Zhixing still diligently practicing, nodded with a smile, and beckoned from a distance: “Boy, come here, I have something to tell you.”
He Zhixing halted his actions and came before the elder, respectfully greeting, “Master.”
The old eccentric looked at him kindly, nodding with a smile: “Boy, practice well. I need to go to Zhejiang to handle some matters. If I haven’t returned in two years, you should visit Wangshi Garden to find me when you have time.” With that, he took out a finely carved little wooden figurine from his robe—a beautiful woman whom Zhixing did not