Old Acquaintances Everywhere

Outside Anqing County, Fu Family Farmstead.

A row of bamboo cottages stood close against the fields. Their upward-sliding windows were propped wide open with wooden poles, letting in all the spring breeze and spring sunshine.

Beyond the window rose a hundred mountain peaks, layered into shadowy silhouettes. Inside, Mr. Fu had long passed forty, yet his hair was already streaked with gray. Some said it was because he had written too much of immortals, demons, and ghosts; others said that in his youth, he had shared a romance with a female ghost and had his vital yang drained away. The stories varied wildly. Yet Mr. Fu was in excellent health and felt nothing amiss. At this moment, he was entertaining a guest he had only met today.

The guest was a young scholar, just as he himself had once been.

"Hahahaha..."

Seated in a bamboo chair, Mr. Fu threw back his head and laughed. "My worthy brother misunderstands. Life is limited. Even if Fu's life were longer still, how could I possibly have seen so many immortals, demons, and ghosts? Eight or nine out of ten things recorded in my books were heard while Fu traveled from place to place, from the mouths of different people."

"So that's how it is!"

"Hahaha..."

"Even so, Mr. Fu's life has been extraordinarily splendid. The books you have written have bewitched and enthralled countless people. To meet you is truly this humble one's good fortune." As the young scholar spoke, he remembered that someone on the river had entrusted him with a message, and added, "Oh, right. When I came by water, I met a Daoist on the way. He only said his surname was Song and claimed to be an old acquaintance of yours. He asked me to pass along his regards."