Jing Yuan had always found solace in the serenity of the river that wound through the mountain. The quiet rustle of leaves, the rhythmic ripple of water, and the distant birds filled the air with peaceful harmony. Today, the river’s calmness was heightened by the Vidyadhara’s graceful presence. They moved with an effortless fluidity, like the flow of water itself. He marveled at how they seemed to blend with nature, as though they were born from it, not merely part of it.

He had known them for lifetimes, though their memories of him were more fleeting. He often teased them about their love for rituals and order, even in a world full of chaos. Today, as they coaxed koi into a small pond with calm hands, Jing Yuan couldn’t resist. “I’m starting to think you were born with a dragon’s patience. Or maybe it’s just all the time spent mastering stillness.” His voice was light, filled with warmth. He admired their composed nature, the quiet wisdom in their gaze that, though different from his own, he couldn’t help but respect.

The two sat beside a small grove where the river curved lazily, its waters reflecting the sky above. The usual banter softened in the peaceful air, and the wind carried their words away.

Jing Yuan chuckled, eyes tracing the ripples of the pond. “If I had a coin for every time I watched you calm a storm with a glance, I’d retire on the spot. But then, who would stop me from napping all day?” He smiled knowingly, waiting for the usual response, but for now, the silence was enough.