Zhu Lian looked up from weaving his bamboo basket and saw an unexpected figure standing outside the courtyard gate. He stopped what he was doing and greeted him with a smile. "A rare guest indeed."
Zheng Juzhong nodded to Zhu Lian and slowly entered the courtyard. It looked less like a mountain cultivator's home than an ordinary farmer's dwelling. Medicinal herbs lay drying inside, several copper-coin lotuses floated in the water vat at the corner of the wall, and a few carp swam beneath their leaves. Several pots of orchids sat on the ground, some in porcelain pots, others in purple clay. A wicker chair stood in the covered walkway, and the fragrance of salted pork stewed with cucumber drifted from the kitchen.
Zhu Lian said apologetically, "I'm afraid I can't offer much hospitality. You'll have to make do."
Zheng Juzhong said, "I've come unannounced. A guest follows his host's arrangements."
Zhu Lian did not even ask why his distinguished visitor had come to his humble home.
There was no need.
They were both clever men.
Zheng Juzhong had visited Luopo Mountain before, but last time he had stopped at its foot. This was his first time ascending the mountain.
Fame, wealth, and rank below the mountains, Great Dao longevity upon them-all were a springtime dream, broken by a rooster's crow, pecked apart by an oriole beneath the leaves.
Zhu Lian smiled. "Brother Huai Xian, do you think Lu Chen and Zhu Lian have each imprisoned themselves, one drawing a circle for his prison, the other binding himself in his own cocoon?"
He sounded as though he were making small talk with an old friend he had known for years, one who often dropped by. Zheng Juzhong said, "I think you're the ones who truly rule your own houses."
It