The clear chirping of birds awakened Zhang Yuan from the deepest of dreams.
Lately, he often dreamed, finding himself in a bizarre world where he lived various lives.
However, when Zhang Yuan awoke, the memories of the dream were reduced to scattered fragments, settled in his mind.
He got up, draped a coat over himself, and came to the windowsill.
As he opened the window, the chill of an early autumn morning seeped in silently, carrying a faint scent of osmanthus blossom.
Outside, white walls and black tiles were nestled among the trees, with thin morning mist winding around, faint sounds of chickens and dogs could be heard.
A scene almost like an isolated paradise.
Although Zhang Yuan had lived in Lin Xian Manor for seven days, he never tired of the scenery here.
After a simple wash, he went out for breakfast.
Despite being called a manor, Lin Xian Manor is essentially the size of a small town.
