One Sentence Outdoes a Thousand Words

Cat Temple, Nanhua County...

Three Flower Lady...

Simply treating it like a person...

Master Kong savored the meaning behind those words.

People often said that no one who had lived long had never seen a ghost, and that was true. Others said that a craftsman who reached the pinnacle could commune with the divine, and that was true as well. For someone like Master Kong, who possessed both a wealth of life experience and consummate craftsmanship, tales of ghosts, gods, demons, and spirits might have been stories to others—but for him, even more outrageous things had happened.

Master Kong understood at once—

This guest was unlike the usual high officials, wealthy nobles, famed figures, and celebrated scholars who came to commission wood carvings, seeking out an extraordinary man to satisfy their curiosity and broaden their horizons.

This guest was no ordinary man.

Along with his courtesy, Master Kong gained several degrees more respect.

"Sir entered the mountains in the morning and only returned at dusk. The mountain paths are difficult—did you eat anything along the way?"

"I encountered a golden monkey in the wilderness and shamelessly asked it to guide me. I picked a few wild fruits to eat. They tasted quite good." Song You answered with equal courtesy, hands cupped in salute. Yet today, his politeness did not stem from the elaborate formalities fashionable in this age, but from his respect for a true master.

The moment he entered the house, he had looked around.

The room was filled with finished and unfinished wood carvings. Every completed piece was lifelike, and some were so vivid even without their eyes carved that it seemed they might suddenly start running if one looked away. It was truly difficult to imagine what they would become if eyes were carved onto them.

"Dongyang."

"Master."

"Go kill a chicken."

"Yes."

The boy obediently turned and left.

Only then did Master Kong say to Song You and the Three Flower Cat, "It is late. You two guests will not make it back to the city, so stay and have a simple meal with this old man. We were fortunate today and found some mushrooms on the mountain. Stew them with an old hen, and they will be so fresh they'll make your tongues fall off. After eating, you may sleep here."

"Thank you, Master Kong, for your hospitality."

"Master is too much, too much. You flatter this old man beyond measure."

"Thank you, Draftsman Kong."

"It is only what should be done."

Outside, the old hen was already clucking and flapping. Before long, the sounds ceased.

By the time the chicken soup was ready, the lamps had been lit.

The delicacies of this age naturally could not compare with those of Song You's previous life, yet there were a few exceptions. The methods for some dishes had barely changed even after several thousand years, while some dishes might not even surpass what they were now several thousand years later.

This pot of chicken soup was one such dish. Nothing more than sliced ginger, chicken, and mushrooms, with merely a pinch of salt and no other seasoning needed. That was how it had been made a thousand years ago, and that was how it would be made a thousand years later.

Wild mushrooms possessed a unique savor, and every variety had its own distinct flavor, all impossible to replace with the industrial flavor enhancers of later ages. Song You often went into the mountains around the temple to gather mushrooms himself. In this pot, he could identify bamboo fungus, matsutake, see-you-blue mushrooms, old man's head mushrooms, chicken fat yellow mushrooms, and more. The cooked chicken soup had turned golden and thick. The two kinds of freshness blended together, and after one sip, it truly felt as though one's tongue might fall off from sheer deliciousness.

These were irreplaceable treasures of the mountains, an indescribable freshness, and the finest way of receiving guests in the wilds.

Song You had lost track of how many bowls of soup he had drunk. He only knew his belly was full of liquid. A huge pot brimming with chicken soup had been nearly emptied, and he had eaten plenty of mushrooms, yet little chicken.

Three Flower Lady ate more meat.

It did not quite understand why these humans only drank water and did not eat meat, but it did not dare ask, afraid it might talk sense into them.

Stars shone tonight, and the oil lamp flickered.

The guests had eaten their fill, and Master Kong felt content as well. Only after the boy had cleared the table did he ask Song You:

"Sir comes from Lingquan County?"

"I come from Yi Capital."

"What brings you from Yi Capital?"

"Draftsman Kong may not know this. I am from Fulong Temple of Yinshan Mountain in Lingquan County. Our temple has a tradition: disciples of every generation must descend the mountain to travel, for as few as three to five years, or as many as several decades." Song You replied, "Since I grew up cultivating on the mountain and knew little of worldly affairs, my master ordered me to descend and travel for twenty years, to observe the world. I have only just reached Yi Capital."

"I see..."

Master Kong nodded, his eyes thoughtful.

Perhaps he had truly encountered a hidden master.

Fulong Temple...

It seemed familiar, yet he also seemed to have forgotten it.

"But I do not know why you have come from so far away to seek out this old man. Do you wish to purchase a wood carving to take back? If so, please choose whatever you like. This old man will give it all to you."

"I once heard that Draftsman Kong's skill in wood carving had reached the summit, and that in his early years, a wood carving had once come alive. I was curious and deeply admiring of this, so I made a special trip from Yi Capital to visit, wishing to witness this divine art that could bring a wood carving to life."

"Haha..."

Master Kong threw back his head and laughed. "That was merely a mistaken rumor spread by the world. How could a wood carving possibly come alive?"

"I would like to hear the details."

"It has been too many years. I only vaguely remember that Wealthy Gentleman Chen of the city invited this old man to carve a goshawk. It was so lifelike that the onlookers were alarmed just looking at it. Then wind blew in from outside, and the hawk fell off its stool, frightening quite a few people. Everyone thought it had come alive, but it had not." Master Kong said this with a chuckle, shaking his head. "People love to hear such stories, and little by little, they turn them into the kind of story they want to hear."

"So that was how it was."

"I've made you come all this way for nothing, sir."

"What are you saying, Draftsman? A trip into the mountains, a night of conversation with you, or even this pot of fresh soup—if I had but one of these, the journey would not have been in vain."

Song You smiled, then paused. He looked around at the wooden carvings displayed throughout the room and asked, "But why is it that so many of the carvings in your house have yet to have their eyes carved?"

"You may not know this, sir, but once an inanimate thing becomes too lifelike, looking closely at it brings great terror."

"So that's how it is."

Song You nodded thoughtfully.

He could not help glancing back toward the kitchen. The child was scooping water from a vat to wash the pot. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but helplessly stopped himself.

"Please rest early, sir."

"I've troubled you, Draftsman."

"Not at all, not at all."

"Please rest early as well, Draftsman."

"Very well. This old man is getting on in years, and my energy is not what it once was. Please forgive my poor hospitality."

Master Kong glanced at the Three Flower Cat and seemed about to speak, only to stop himself. In the end, he rose, cupped his hands to Song You in salute, and slowly made his way back to his room.

Song You too entered the guest room.

There was nothing else to do that night. Once the oil lamp was extinguished, only the vault of stars remained. Song You sat cross-legged on the bed without closing the window, letting the autumn breeze drift into the room. He watched the stars and mountains outside as he waited for sleepiness to come.

Suddenly, his leg felt pleasantly itchy. Looking down, he saw that the Three Flower Cat had climbed onto him. Its round little paws stepped on his thigh, and he could feel the touch of its plum-blossom-shaped pads.

Softly, pleasantly ticklish.

Song You remained outwardly calm, but inwardly he was delighted.

This was the first time Three Flower Lady had been so affectionate with him.

"Does Three Flower Lady need something?"

"That old man keeps looking at me."

The Three Flower Cat stood on his folded legs, tilting its head back and stretching its neck to look at him. Their eyes met, their faces very close.

Song You thought for a moment and chose his words.

"I once heard that when someone skilled at painting sees wondrous mountains and waters, they cannot help stopping to paint them. I imagine those skilled in wood carving are the same. Three Flower Lady is beautiful and full of spirit. That Draftsman Kong likely wished to carve a wooden figure in Three Flower Lady's likeness, but for various reasons, he was unable to say so."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why was he unable to say so?"

"You'll have to ask him that."

"Three Flower Lady will go ask him right now."

Without the slightest hesitation, the Three Flower Cat turned and started to leave.

"Hey, hey!"

Song You hurriedly called it back.

As expected, what followed was another barrage of whys.

Fortunately, he was patient.

The night was long, yet he slept well.

When he lived in Tianshui Lane, night watchmen would sound their clappers in the middle of the night. At dawn, people came calling as they collected the night soil, while early-rising peddlers hawked vegetables. It was not exactly enough to disturb one's sleep, but it was noisy in the end. Yet this mountain village was truly silent from night until morning. The occasional bark of a dog at night did not enter his dreams at all, and the quality of sleep was excellent.

After Song You woke, he searched the bed for Three Flower Lady and discovered that it was no longer in the room.

He did not mind. He put on his shoes and pushed open the window.

Outside, dawn had only just broken, and morning mist wreathed the village. It was autumn: mountains bright, waters clear, frost falling at night; several trees showed deep crimson amid pale yellow. He had already been full of energy, and at the sight of this autumn scene, he became entirely awake at once.

He pushed open the door and headed out, intending to collect morning dew. But no sooner had he stepped out of the guest room than he saw someone carving in the main hall.

A carving knife handed down through generations, its wooden handle polished slick and gleaming by countless palms, sliced through wood as easily as paper. A piece of fine boxwood shed flakes beneath the blade, truly like paper, making one wonder how this wood could be so soft and brittle.

That carving knife was in Master Kong's hand.

Master Kong had his back to Song You. On the stool before him sat a Three Flower Cat, poised as properly as could be. Only when Song You arrived did it dart him a quick glance; otherwise, it stared straight ahead without shifting its gaze.

A good model.

The master was utterly absorbed and did not notice anyone behind him.

Song You held his breath as well, not daring to make a sound and disturb him.

All he could hear was the soft rasping, deeply soothing.

Master Kong switched among different carving knives, refining the details. Wood shavings fell like snow, and the block of wood gradually took shape, then gradually gained spirit.

It was precisely the Three Flower Cat sitting upright before him.

Its body was well-proportioned, its expression lively.

By the time Master Kong set down his carving knife, the wooden sculpture before him still lacked eyes, yet it already seemed to have come alive. It was almost impossible to tell it apart from the Three Flower Cat sitting behind it.

Not only was Song You astonished—even Master Kong himself, who had carved it with his own hands, felt a chill run through his heart as he examined it closely.

Only then did he notice Song You behind him.

"Did you sleep well, sir?"

"Extremely well. Thank you for your hospitality."

Song You answered respectfully, then looked toward the wooden sculpture. Just as he was about to praise it, Three Flower Lady jumped down from the bench as well. She moved closer and inspected the carving a few times, her eyes gradually widening before she turned to Master Kong.

Then the Three Flower Cat spoke in a human voice, fine and clear, her tone full of puzzlement. Tilting her head, she asked the old man:

"How did you know she was in there?"

Song You froze at those words, then broke into a smile.

That single sentence surpassed the vast majority of praise in this world.

Recently, since the new book is still in its infancy, I often hear everyone say there isn't enough to read. And because this book's subject matter has changed a little, some friends may not be used to it. In any case, for esteemed readers suffering from a book drought or unable to find something to read because they aren't accustomed to the new book's style, I'd like to recommend a very good novel: My Childhood Sweetheart, She's Gradually Expanding. It was written by an author friend I've known for nearly ten years. To be honest, the writing is excellent, and its style is rather similar to my earlier books. Fine, I'll say it outright: when it first began, it was written with my style in mind. It should suit everyone's tastes, so this is a very sincere recommendation. You definitely won't regret giving it a read.