The rolling Western Mountains resembled a brilliant blue-and-green landscape painting. Beneath the archway at the foot of Jiling Peak, a sleepy young Daoist sat in a bamboo chair. He could not even be bothered to return to his room for a nap; every step saved was a step saved. This lazy fellow tasked with guarding the mountain gate first tucked his serious book into his sleeve, then produced an even more serious Daoist classic. He leafed through a few pages, hoping to do battle with his million sleep demons, only to grow sleepier still. He simply opened the book and laid it over his face. Leaning against the chair back with his legs stretched out, he soon began snoring beneath it.
The few characters on the ancient book's cover shimmered with faint rings of golden light in the sunshine.
An unknown length of time passed. The young Daoist was still sleeping sweetly, the hair at his temples stirring gently.
Another bamboo chair had appeared beside him. The pink-skirted girl spread a handwritten travelogue gently across her knees. She read its stories, turning a page now and then, while softly waving a palm-leaf fan with one hand to send cool breezes toward Immortal Master Wei.
In obedience to the Mountain Lord's instructions, Chief Xie had taken Cao Zu to Huaying Peak to meet Deputy Gan, who was so fond of playing the teacher.
On the mountain path at Tiaoyu Mountain, the maiden Flower God, encouraged by her friend Xie Gou, also mustered the courage to ask Cao Huacong, renowned throughout the Central Continent, for a lyric about balsam flowers-to put in a few good words for them. Cao Zu readily agreed and asked Wu Cai whether she had a preferred tune pattern. Her eyes lit up. Yes, yes, she did! She