Heya! So, I dropped the ball on updating weekly for #PGreadAlong but participants have been posting to the tag anyway and most (all) have finished?
Thank you for participating in the read-along and I hope you enjoyed the novel as much as I did!
Oh wow, apparently it's been longer than I thought since I fell off the #PGreadalong? My last post here was in October at chapter 30, and when I picked up the book again yesterday it was at chapter 36. Oops. I've been having kind of a hard time keeping all my plates in the air since... the beginning of October, actually.
Anyway! I *did* pick up Panguan again and was instantly drawn fully back into it, and now I'm at about chapter 43! More thoughts to come after my workday. It's so good. <3
😭 I did not expect this book to be about grief and family and regret and love and and and
😭
Such vivid imagery! To see the winter solstice lanterns released at the bottom of the mountain just as Wen Shi jumps from the tree. 🤩
Heya! So, I dropped the ball on updating weekly for #PGreadAlong but participants have been posting to the tag anyway and most (all) have finished?
Thank you for participating in the read-along and I hope you enjoyed the novel as much as I did!
Zhou "Ballsy Menace" Xu 😂🤣😂🤣
I was just thinking... the romance between Wen Shi and Xie Wen were with Xie Wen the puppet, not Chen Budao the person! Does Chen Budao know that Wen Shi knows that they love each other? 🤔
What is this slight breeze that entered the room and flickered the candles? A spirit? Or just the air from Chen Budao entering the room?
The finger bone!
I'm still surprised that Zhang Yalin exists at all. How? Didn't his grandpa steal his skin? I guess I don't know what happens to the original owner of the skin when someone steals it...
Did Wen Shi create his own cage when he entered the Chen Budao cage?
Wowwww, I hadn't thought of how Xia Qiao was supposed to be Wen Shi's puppet and wondered why he was so different from his maker.
🥺 merely 3000 li away, never to return again.
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine 🙂
«To tell the truth, even if Wen Shi hadn’t gone back to Mount Songyun that day, Chen Budao had already made up his mind to see him. It was his birthday, after all—it only came once a year, and a lifetime was merely the accumulation of those years in decades. How could he bear to let that person spend the entire day alone?
He wrote a note, promising he would be back.
For though the soughing pines and lucent moon were but three thousand li away, fate did not permit him to return.»