A full moon hung in the sky above the Pingjiang River, shrouded in a faint mist as if veiled by a layer of moon-white gauze. Lanterns with delicate bamboo frames dotted the banks on either side of the river, their various colors shining through, some painted with landscapes and serving maidens. There were also vendors selling blank lanterns in various colors; poets and literary men, struck by inspiration, could at any time take up a brush and leave their prized calligraphy on a lantern.
Painted pleasure boats shuttled back and forth on the water, carrying the scent of rouge and powder, and the clamor of voices mingled with the laughter of courtesans, their delicate voices dispersing through the thin fog.
Stores lined both banks of the Pingjiang River, their eaves touching one another like scales on a fish, with awnings grandly displayed, bustling with even more activity than during the Qixi festival.
