Master and Disciple in the Mountains

Before long, slow footsteps sounded from within the gate.

They came at an unhurried pace, punctuated by the crisp, rhythmic tap, tap of a bamboo staff against the ground.

Then the mountain gate swung fully open.

The young woman peeked out again. The tips of her ears were faintly red, and a trace of embarrassment lingered in her eyes, as though she had just been scolded.

Behind her stood a Daoist nun.

She looked to be in her sixties, small and thin, with graying hair pinned up by a bamboo hairpin. Her Daoist robe bore several patches, but it had been washed spotless.

The elderly nun swept her gaze over the four of them, her eyes calm and unruffled.

She raised her hands in a Daoist salute, speaking gently with all the proper courtesy of her tradition.

"I am Yun Su. Fellow Daoists, you have come a long way, and this humble temple is in a remote place. Forgive me for not welcoming you sooner."

Her courtesy was impeccable, her bearing serene.

Shen Hui returned the salute with the others, his posture proper.

"I am Shen Hui, a junior to you. We were exploring the mountains and happened upon this ancient temple. Forgive us for calling unannounced and startling your disciple. I hope you will excuse us."

Daoist Yun Su's expression softened, and she gave a slight smile.

"Visitors are rare in these wild mountains. There is no need for such ceremony."

With that, she stepped aside and gestured for them to enter.

"It is quiet here in the mountains, and we seldom see strangers. Since you have come, why not sit for a while and have a cup of simple tea?"

Shen Hui nodded his assent.

Daoist Yun Su smiled, then turned to the young woman.

"Green Bamboo, gather