Upon hearing this voice as sweet as a yellow oriole, the young Daoist looked as if he had seen a ghost.
He forced out a smile even more pitiful than crying, turned around, and respectfully greeted, "Little Junior Sister, what are you doing here?"
A young maiden, in her prime, leaned against the stone pillar of the mountain gate arch, holding a string of candied hawthorn in her slender fingers.
She wore a goose-yellow long dress, with skin fairer than snow and outstanding beauty. Her black hair was styled into twin buns, and her lively phoenix eyes shimmered with a radiant light. The cute manner in which she tilted her head to bite the candy made her frown slightly—it was indescribably charming.
The yellow-skirted maiden smiled and asked, "Why can't I be here?"
The young Daoist was left speechless.
The yellow-skirted maiden hummed twice, then hopped down the high steps to stand in front of Zhang Yuan.
