É mencionado em várias ocasiões no início do livro que Wen congelou o jardim do vale no que ele considera como um único momento perfeito:
O presente de Lobsang a seu mestre (alguém que passou mais de 800 anos de sua vida antinaturalmente longa varrendo as flores) foi finalmente permitir que as árvores amadurecessem, dando-lhe o maior presente de todos; uma surpresa genuína .A few cherry blossom petals drifted down onto Wen's head from one of the trees that grew wild along the streamlets.
“And this perfect day will last for ever,” he said. “The air is crisp, the sun is bright, there is ice in the streams. Every day in this valley will be this perfect day.”
“Could get a bit repetitive, master,” said Clodpool.
A breeze blew the scent of cherry blossom. Just once, thought Lu-Tze, it would be nice to pick cherries.
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Lu-Tze had been right, Lobsang knew. Time was a resource. You could learn to let it move fast or slow, so that a monk could walk easily through a crowd and yet be moving so fast that no one could see him. Or he could stand still for a few seconds, and watch the sun and moon chase one another across a flickering sky. He could meditate for a day in a minute. Here, in the valley, a day lasted for ever. Blossom never became cherries.
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