The wide open courtyard of the Conferred Pagoda's inner sanctum was a masterpiece of architectural precision, designed to capture the maximum amount of spiritual essence from the surrounding mountain peaks.
However, as Shen Haoran sat under the intricate eaves of a sandalwood pavilion, he found no comfort in the setting.
He sat with his spine perfectly straight, the black silk of his robes absorbing the afternoon light.
He raised a delicate jade cup to his lips, took a single sip of the premium spirit tea, and then set it down with a click that sounded overly loud in the heavy silence.
Then, after a long while, he let out a long, weary sigh, his golden-blonde hair shimmering as he tilted his head back.
