The Peach Blossom Dream – A Scholar’s Hidden Paradise A hidden valley bathed in soft pink light, where endless peach blossoms drift through the air like whispers of an ancient poem. A stone path winds through a tranquil river, leading to a secluded bamboo teahouse nestled beneath a grand weeping cherry tree. The teahouse glows with the warm light of paper lanterns, their soft red hues casting reflections upon the water. A young scholar, dressed in flowing jade-green robes, leans against a wooden pillar, lost in a scroll of ancient poetry. Across the river, a mysterious woman in a white hanfu (汉服, traditional Chinese attire) gazes toward him, her silk sleeves drifting like mist in the breeze. She seems half-real, half-illusion, as if a spirit of the peach blossoms themselves. A distant flute plays a melancholic tune, carried by the wind. Somewhere, an old poet’s words whisper through the petals: "In dreams, I return to the river of blossoms; but when I wake, it is lost to time."