The Way of Immortals, Now Revealed

After his shift ended, Cheng Zhi returned home from the county office and went straight to the study. Mulling over these matters, he dipped his brush in ink several times, the more he thought, the more exhilarated he felt.

Suddenly, he heard the door creak open.

His wife walked in, came up to the table, and reached out to pinch him.

"I heard it all from Wang Er—you met an immortal on duty today. How come you come back and burrow straight into the study without telling me a thing about it?"

Cheng Zhi hissed.

"Wife, show mercy, show mercy."

Lady Zhao let go and glanced at the brush and ink on his desk.

"You're writing... a rhapsody?"

She stared closely for a moment, then repositioned the paperweight and smoothed the paper straight. Gently, she said, "Better to pay some commission and hire a capable hand instead."

Cheng Zhi looked down at what he'd written and laughed himself. He crumpled the waste paper into a ball and tossed it into the bin.

Rubbing his neck, he asked, "What did Wang Er tell you?"

Lady Zhao found a chair and sat down, curiosity in her eyes.

"Is there really an immortal?"

"Truer than true."

Cheng Zhi recalled the morning's encounter, a note of regret in his voice as he sighed, "I only wish I could have followed him to learn the Dao and cultivate immortality."

He pulled his wife over from her seat, picked up the copy of Biographies of Immortals he'd been reading that day from the desk, flipped to the freshly inked annotations and the booklet tucked inside, and handed it to her.

"I heard that when that one came to the Lu residence, no one noticed. He just walked in step by step, and no one saw where the immortal had been before. His body was blurry at first, only gradually becoming clear."

County Magistrate Cheng Zhi had clearly inquired very thoroughly.

He recounted it in detail.

Then he speculated, "The Huainanzi says, 'The soul is the spirit of yang; the spirit is the spirit of yin.' I've heard that those who achieve success in cultivation sometimes have the ability to project their soul out of the body."

"What do you think—could that be what that one was doing?"

Wang Erlang hadn't described it so thoroughly. Lady Zhao had only encountered the matter while playing cards with Lady Wang Er at the Wang residence.

At noon, everyone was playing Leaf Cards together—a set of jade cards Lady Zhao had specially commissioned, cool and smooth in the hand, costing a pretty sum. At the card table, the other three set aside past petty grievances and comforted Lady Su, Wang Er's wife.

Lady Zhao held a special status here; she was the county magistrate's wife, her husband the prefect of this region.

With so many people gone missing under Xiangyang County's jurisdiction, the first to bear responsibility was the magistrate. Especially since many of the missing were local gentry and wealthy households, connected by marriage, all pleading with each other and petitioning the magistrate.

Lady Su was Cheng Zhi's cousin, so Lady Zhao offered her comfort and persuasion patiently.

She also promised to have the bailiff lead more men to search. Erlang was blessed by heaven and would surely come to no harm.

As luck would have it, no sooner had she spoken than a servant came stumbling in to report that the nineteen missing people from the Lu residence had been found—still at the Lu residence. They had slept for a full seven days and were now eating like starving ghosts.

An hour later, Wang Anlan was already seated before them.

Vividly recounting to them.

In his dream, he had lived through forty years, sleeping for a full seven days.

And he was still alive.

An immortal...

Could such a thing really happen?

Wang Erlang also said, "Brother-in-law knows a lot; he even spoke with that immortal. He said he would personally come to pay a visit another day."

After a moment's thought, he added one more sentence.

"That one doesn't like empty fame. He told us to call him 'Master.'"

Because of this, Lady Zhao came back early from the Wang residence and had a servant wait at the door to inform her when her husband returned. Who would have thought Cheng Zhi would hole up in the study as soon as he got off duty, not saying a word, making her wait in vain for so long?

Lady Zhao thought it over.

"Hard to say."

"We don't know anything about immortals. Putting everything else aside, right here in Xiangyang, who would have thought that Lumen Mountain really has a Mountain God!"

Cheng Zhi nodded too.

He still remembered that Mountain God—hair and beard all white, not a single strand of black. In every move and gesture, his bearing was lofty and refined.

He looked like an immortal.

Though the advisor's words that day had made him realize that being taken as an immortal's disciple was out of the question, and he'd dropped the idea, the fact that such a miraculous person truly existed in Xiangyang still made Magistrate Cheng unable to control himself, his heart swaying.

The magistrate was lost in longing and couldn't help but say, "What do you think—when I go to see that Master tomorrow, how should I handle it?"

Lady Zhao thought for a moment, asking him to describe in detail what that one's temperament was like that day. Twirling her bracelet, she pondered as she spoke, "Wang Erlang also said that immortal doesn't care much for fame. And you say you're going as the parent-official to thank him on behalf of the people of Xiangyang. So your approach shouldn't be too reverent."

"As I see it—"

"Just speak with him as you would any reclusive sage."

"Reverence lies in the heart, not in temples."

"How you spoke with those recluses before—do the same with this one."

Lady Zhao spoke with great enthusiasm, adding, "That gentleman is wandering through our area. Ask around if there's a place for him to rest, or why not invite him to stay at our home?"

Cheng Zhi pondered.

Lady Zhao thought a moment, then mentioned, "Didn't they say that besides the Lumen Mountain Deity, there's another person by his side? Wang Er said he's a talented scholar from Shu. To stand beside an immortal, they must be on good terms."

"See what you can find out, and whether you can sound him out."

Cheng Zhi stroked his beard.

"My lady speaks sense. I nearly forgot about Li Taibai. I'll give it a try."

The magistrate took his wife's advice readily and acted on it swiftly.

The next day at noon.

Meng Haoran was dining with a few friends at an inn. The four sat before a table, all scholars living nearby. Among them, Meng Haoran, Lu Xiang, and Zhang Zirong were the closest, known as the Three Friends of Xiangyang.

Lu Xiang set down his wine cup and teased, "Pity Zirong is now the constable of Lecheng, buried in paperwork. If he learned of this, he'd likely abandon his home and sleep at the immortal's doorstep."

Meng Haoran smiled.

"Such a miraculous affair naturally must be shared with him. I've already written a letter. Once Zhang Ba replies, there'll be something to see."

Lu Xiang was of the Fanyang Lu Clan, unlike the obscure Lu clan of Xiangyang, and he had a wide circle of friends.

"You're right. I should write a letter too."

He picked up some vegetables with his chopsticks, saying, "As it happens, Wang Mojie wrote to me. He's in Luoyang now, mingling with Prince Qi and Prince Ning and the other great lords, no longer so gloomy after his demotion. I'll tell him about this."

Meng Haoran asked.

"Wang Wei?"

Lu Xiang said, "Who else would Wang Mojie be?"

"You were right there that day, and you vanished along with them. I nearly wrote to the prefect of Xiang Prefecture to send men to investigate. Luckily it was all a great dream, and you weren't carried off by mountain bandits. That saved me from offending the magistrate."

"Tell us exactly what happened, quickly."

Lu Xiang's face showed keen curiosity.

"In all my years, I've never seen a true immortal."

At the table, the other two paused with their chopsticks, pricking up their ears.

Xiangyang was small; news spread fast. When those who had gone missing returned home, the tale of encountering immortals spread like wildfire, filling the entire city.

Meng Haoran thought briefly.

He set down his chopsticks and began:

"The way of the immortals—Haoran has now witnessed it."

Meeting three pairs of longing gazes, and catching sight of nearby diners who had also stopped eating, clearly listening with rapt attention, Meng Haoran smiled and spoke in detail.

"I spent forty years in a dream. That kingdom was called the Ancient Locust Kingdom. Its scenery differed from the Tang Land; when I looked up, there was no moon or stars..."

As he spoke, a diner at the table behind him set down his chopsticks to listen closely, stroking his beard.

When the tale ended, the diner asked with a smile, "Might you be our Xiangyang's great talent, Meng Haoran?"

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