Rapeseed blossoms carpeted the mountains.
Yellow petals fluttered like skirts, while children laughed and chased dancing yellow butterflies that vanished into the rapeseed flowers, nowhere to be found.
She strolled along the narrow paths between fields, passing through seas of rapeseed blossoms beneath clear white clouds. At the foot of the distant mountains stood weathered old houses with mottled white walls, country households.
Dogs barked behind bamboo fences when guests arrived; curling kitchen smoke told of those returning home.
Bai Yujun, her face full of weariness, held a bamboo flute as a long, lingering melody drifted on the wind.
Three years had passed in a blur. Body and mind exhausted, she only wanted to find somewhere to sit and rest her feet, daydream, and bask in the sun.
She passed an old spring well beneath the slope.
The spring well was two feet deep. Cool, clear water trickled from the cracks between the stones, overflowing into a ditch. It was living water, drinkable water. In the wilderness, one must remember never to drink stagnant dead water unless there was no other choice and thirst could no longer be endured.
She lifted her skirt and crouched beside the well.
She plucked a broad leaf and folded it twice, turning it into a simple natural green cup.
She swept it lightly across the surface, pushing aside the fallen leaves.
She scooped up a palmful of clear spring water.
Tilting back her head, she drank it all in one gulp.
The icy spring water drove away the heat. The faint flush on her lovely face faded, the restless heat receded, and even the fatigue of several days of travel was swept away. Sometimes, life ought to be simple—eat when hungry, sleep when tired, drink when thirsty. Perhaps she was one of the few