A Line of Writing
Redakteur: Dragon Boat Translation
"The night has grown deep, and you want to play chess at this hour?"
Lu Zhichun furrowed his brow, feeling puzzled about how he had allowed this old man to enter his house.
"In this Mi Village, I've played countless games of chess with others, and I've grown tired of it. Now that I've run into you, I can't resist the urge to play. I hope you'll indulge me."
The old man wore a smile on his face, already setting up the chessboard and waiting for Lu Zhichun to take a seat.
"I'm feeling a bit tired today, and I'm afraid I don't have the energy for a game with you."
Lu Zhichun looked at the old man and then glanced at the chessboard. He had a vague feeling that something wasn't quite right. He couldn't pinpoint the source of this feeling, but he decided to follow his instincts.
"It's not too late, not too late for anything."
The old man chuckled softly, picked up a chess piece, and placed it on the board in front of him.