The journey was a long one, and the boat did not drift along the river all day. Every evening, it had to moor by the bank.
Whenever they came across a ferry crossing or somewhere suitable for mooring, the boatman would often ask what they thought and stop for a while. Song You would then lead his horse off the boat to relieve itself. Women at ferry crossings everywhere often sold food, and whenever he found something he liked, Song You would buy a little to give his mouth some flavor.
What the boatman had said was not wrong. The meals on the boat were fine for one or two sittings, but after eating them for two days, one's mouth grew bland and fishy. Fortunately, Song You had brought some dry provisions.
Before they knew it, they had been traveling by boat for six days.
As they drew near Long Commandery, the scenery on both sides began to change.
There were broad stretches of level ground along both banks of the river. At least the fields themselves were flat, and they were filled with rapeseed flowers. They were in full bloom in early spring, spreading out like a sheet of brilliant gold, while the wind carried the sweet fragrance of the flowers.
Upon this vast land rose countless strange hills, thrusting abruptly from the flat earth. Unlike ordinary mountains, they were steep, peculiar, and small, shaped like bamboo shoots. It was difficult for people to climb them, and there was little reason to do so. Countless little mountains blocked the end of the line of sight. From afar, they overlapped in layer upon layer, a forest of mountains, blocking one's view after only a short distance.
One could almost believe that these mountains were a kingdom of demons.
"We've entered Long Commandery."
The boatman said as he poled the boat, "The mountains in Long Commandery are all like this, lump after lump. Most can't be climbed, and there's no land on top, so people can only travel through the middle of them."
"Very beautiful."
"Everyone says so."
"Are there any you can climb?"
"There are!"
The boatman's face was deeply furrowed, yet he wore a smile. He liked talking with this gentleman. "Sir, Anqing is the most beautiful place in Anqing County. Once you arrive, ask someone there and you'll naturally learn how to enjoy yourself. If you're wondering how this old man knows, haha, every year, who knows how many high officials, great poets, and brilliant scholars come here to admire the mountains and waters? Almost all of them go to Anqing."
"Thank you, old sir."
Song You merely stood at the bow, gazing out beside the boat.
The sun gradually sank westward. Before it disappeared below the horizon, it first sank into this forest of ten thousand mountains, shaped like bamboo shoots.
The final rays of light slanted down from the uneven yet seemingly similar mountaintops. They were a pale gold, and one could clearly make out the shape of the light. Half the river was filled with the reflections of mountains and radiance. An old man in a straw rain cape and bamboo hat poled the boat onward, while a man in Daoist robes stood at the bow. Across the entire river, this lone little boat traveled by itself.
"We should arrive tonight."
"Good."
As the boatman poled on, he unexpectedly began to sing loudly.
Song You found it exceptionally beautiful, and his mood brightened as well.
"Old sir."
"I'm listening!"
"It's about time we prepared dinner, isn't it?"
"You're right, sir. I'll find a place to stop."
"There's a strip of cured meat in my bag. It wasn't finished before the New Year, and it's been heavy to carry on the road, so I'd like to ask you to cook it. We can all have a taste."
"Certainly!"
And so, amid these ten thousand mountains, upon the Willow River, beneath the evening sky, another wisp of cooking smoke rose.
About two or three quarters of an hour later.
The young scholar had not washed or combed his hair for several days, and it had grown somewhat greasy and clumped. Yet he remained full of energy as he used his chopsticks to lift a slice of cured meat from his bowl.
The cured meat was two parts fat and two parts lean, with three layers and five streaks. Held up under the oil lamp, the fat was translucent and golden, crystalline and clear. It trembled on the chopsticks, glistening with oil. Popped into his mouth while still hot, it had not the slightest trace of greasiness, only a rich cured-meat fragrance touched with the fresh scent of pine and cypress branches. It was neither too salty nor too bland.
"This cured meat is excellent! Absolutely incredible!"
The young scholar was instantly dazzled. Then he asked Song You, "Did you make it yourself, sir?"
"Someone gave it to me."
"Either way, it was thanks to your good fortune that we got to enjoy it. I must thank you, sir." The young scholar beamed and cupped his hands toward Song You. His chopsticks never stopped moving, and he continued speaking as he ate. "I happen to love the cured meat from Yizhou, especially the kind smoked with pine and cypress branches. Nothing from other places compares."
"I suddenly remembered something."
"Oh? What is it, sir?"
"At North Tile Yard in Yi Capital, there is a storyteller named Old Mr. Zhang at Cloud Talk Shed. The old gentleman has seen and heard much, excels in this art, and knows the strange and marvelous tales of every region. The next time you visit friends in Yi Capital, you may seek him out at North Tile Yard. If you do not begrudge him a little tea money and observe the proper courtesy, he certainly will not disappoint you."
"!"
How could the young scholar have expected him to say that? He immediately put away his flippant smile and set down his chopsticks, then solemnly bowed to him.
It was only a miscellany of odd tales. How many people would truly take such a thing seriously? He dreamed of leaving his name in history, yet if others did not sneer at him with contempt, that alone would be fortunate! But with this sudden word of advice, he had felt valued by this gentleman he had met by chance. For a moment, he felt as though he had encountered a kindred spirit.
"With the way you treat me, sir, I cannot repay you."
"You need only devote yourself to compiling your book. People of this age may not understand it, but perhaps people in later ages will cherish it."
"Of course!"
Song You said no more. He merely picked up meat and drank a little water wine.
The wine had been provided by the young scholar. The man from the family of three also brought out some preserved fruit. It did not matter who had brought something more expensive or cheaper; they were all contributing to the meal.
That was best. No one owed anyone anything.
Night gradually fell.
There was a moon tonight, and the boatman refused to moor. Relying on the moonlight and his experience, he continued sailing, intending to deliver them all to their destinations so he could return tomorrow.
Before long, they heard the boatman call out:
"We've arrived at Anqing."
The boat slowly drew up to the bank with a creaking sound.
Everyone aboard except Song You hurried to their feet.
The young scholar carried his clothing chest and joined the male head of the family of three in cupping his hands toward Song You in farewell.
"It was fortunate to travel with you. We'll part here."
"Over these past few days, speaking with you aboard the same boat, I've often felt that I benefited greatly. Even if you are not a lofty Daoist master, you must be a hermit devoted to pure cultivation. I only regret that this journey was so short and that I could not remain with you for several more days." The young scholar slung the clothing chest over his shoulder and looked at Song You with deep regret. "But worldly affairs are often like this. Meeting and parting are both matters of fate. I'll bid you farewell here. If you ever come to Anqing for a visit, you must come find me."
"The road is slippery at night. Take care, all of you."
Song You also stood at the bow and cupped his hands toward them, watching as they disembarked and left.
The boatman pushed off again, and the boat drifted away from the bank.
Then he heard the young scholar's voice once more:
"Wait!"
He stood on the stone steps of the ferry crossing and cupped his hands toward Song You again. "Earlier, I thought that people of the jianghu met like duckweed upon the water, so why ask where they came from? Thus I never asked where you practiced in seclusion. But after spending these days together, I increasingly feel that you understand my heart. May I be so bold as to ask where you live? If fate brings me to Yizhou again in the future, I should pay you a visit."
"Fulong Temple on Yin Yang Mountain."
"..."
The current was swift at night, and the boat quickly vanished into the distance.
The boatman's cheerful voice rang out. "This young scholar is good in every way, except that he's a little too noisy."
Song You wore a smile but did not answer. He only asked:
"How much longer until we reach Lingbo County?"
"It's still quite a distance to Lingbo County, but water demons have been causing trouble along that stretch of river. That water demon is enormous; ordinary boats are overturned in an instant. Quite a few people died several years ago, and no one dares travel that way now. Fortunately, Lingbo is the final stretch. Passengers heading to Lingbo get off at the nearest Ancient Ferry Crossing, about an hour from here." The boatman paused. "But sir, you must be careful. Once you disembark at Ancient Ferry Crossing, there are many bandits on the mountain road to Lingbo County. I've never heard of them taking lives, but plenty of people have still been robbed. If ordinary passengers took this road, this old man would advise them to give the bandits some money and say a few kind words to avoid a beating. If they met bandits with principles, they might even be allowed to keep a portion of their belongings."
"Thank you for the warning."
"You're different, sir. I've heard that principled bandits won't rob messengers carrying official letters or scholars traveling for the examinations. There are a few others they don't rob: Daoist gentlemen, Buddhist masters, beautiful young women traveling alone, and lost little children. Heh heh, but as for how many bandits actually have principles, this old man couldn't say."
"Can you still find passengers easily on the return trip?"
"Not as easily as over there."
"How many days does the return trip take?"
"Ten or eleven days." The boatman smiled. "I've had good luck this trip. I came across a family traveling together, and then I met you as well. Usually, I can't carry this many people in a single trip."
"You've worked hard."
By this calculation, the old gentleman could earn at least more than a thousand coins from one round trip. If luck was good, perhaps more than two thousand; if luck was bad, probably still several hundred. He certainly could not make two trips a month, but neither was he limited to only one. His income was still quite decent. However, the waterways were long, and he had to pole the boat and prepare meals along the way. It was no easy labor.
"Hard work earns a man freedom to eat!"
The boatman's voice came mixed with the sound of splashing water.
Song You's eyes could not help but brighten. For a moment, he seemed infected by the boatman's steadfast, contented attitude, and he was astonished that such a sentence could come from the mouth of an ordinary boatman.
But he quickly realized that it was also arrogant—both discourteous and improper.
All in all, receiving a kind word was like getting a cool breeze in the height of summer, or drinking a cup of hot tea in the dead of winter. It was like encountering good luck when leaving the house, bringing surprise and lifting the spirits.
His heart softened, and even the moonlight seemed to grow gentler.
About an hour later—
Song You slung the sack over the horse's back. Seeing Three Flower Cat make a nimble leap from the bow, he jumped ashore as well.
Then he turned back to look at the horse behind him.
"Slowly. There's no rush."
The water rippled, and the boat drifted along at an unhurried pace, filling his ears with the sound of splashing.
Under the moonlight, the horse cautiously and nervously made its way to the bow. It was about to leap onto the bank when, hearing his words, it drew its hoof back. It shifted about until it found a steadier position, then finally stepped safely ashore.
The boatman watched from the bow, smiling without a word.
After living long enough and seeing enough, one came to understand certain principles without needing to find them in books. He had seen long ago that this passenger was no ordinary man. But he was only a boatman—why pry further?
"Take care on the night road, sir."
"You take care as well, old sir."
With one push of the oar, the little boat departed from the bank once more.
Only after the boat had gone far did Song You withdraw his gaze.
Under the moonlight, the river water swayed, its ripples glittering as the waves lapped against the bank. Cold mist rose from the surface, reflecting the bright moon and becoming veiled in a hazy layer beneath the moonlight, like scattered stars. The river shone with light; even an immortal realm could be no more beautiful.
When he lowered his head to look around, Three Flower Lady had arrived in a new place and begun running about again, sniffing here and smelling there as though she had not heard him at all.
"Let's go."
"Okay."
The Daoist still walked ahead, with the horse behind him. Three Flower Cat moved sometimes before him, sometimes behind, sometimes to the left, and sometimes to the right. Only after the Daoist said he needed her help scouting the road did she obediently walk in front.
They had to find somewhere to spend the night outdoors.
In the second year of Mingde, in the middle of the first month, after traveling along the Willow River.
Before you continue