Bai Ke Will Guide You

The porter warming himself by the fire immediately turned his head, staring sideways.

Yes, this young master's clothes weren't even wet.

The rain had been falling so heavily—even he, wearing a straw hat, had been soaked through. How could this man, after walking for so long, have dry garments?

The porter stared at Jiang She for a few breaths, then quickly came to his senses. He didn't even dare to look, only watching the firewood pile and the hem of the robe on the ground from the corner of his eye, occasionally glancing at the rain outside the temple, wondering if it had let up enough to leave.

Li Bai was lost in thought.

His eyes grew brighter and brighter, and he didn't even notice the wine spilling.

Beside him, the Daoist Yuan Danqiu and Meng Haoran exchanged a glance, their gazes also falling on Jiang She's dry clothes. Yuan Danqiu righted Li Bai's already-filled wine cup, his expression unchanged.

Jiang She smiled and said, "With rain gear to protect me, naturally my clothes stayed dry."

"Do you think I've never walked in the rain?"

Li Bai didn't believe it. "The rain falls slantwise. Even with rain gear to shield you, the hem of your robe would get wet. How could it..."

"Taibai."

Yuan Danqiu cut him off.

He picked up the wine jug and poured for Jiang She.

"Young Master Jiang has said so much without wetting his throat. The rain brings heavy dampness—why not drink some wine first to ward off the chill." Yuan Danqiu said, then called for the servant boy to prepare two more sets of bowls and chopsticks.

Li Bai smiled and raised his cup.

"That was my oversight. I toast to you."

Both drank in one gulp, and Jiang She found it amusing in his heart.

Figures from a thousand years ago appearing before him were no longer just explanatory text in a book, but flesh-and-blood, living people who could be startled and curious.

Li Bai, Meng Haoran, and Danqiu Sheng sat before him.

Because of a heavy rain, they had gathered together, drinking around the fire.

Firewood crackled and burned; outside the temple, white raindrops leaped like pearls, the spring mountains a misty green, half swallowed by fog.

The servant boy finished cooking the soup, and the food and wine were served. The porter didn't dare to accept, forgetting his earlier suspicion and fear, and instinctively looked at Jiang She, who gave a slight nod.

He inexplicably felt relieved, imitating this newly met stranger's manner, eating the dishes but not daring to take much, only picking at what was in front of him.

Perhaps because they had talked the whole way, walking together on the mountain path in the heavy rain, the porter felt an instinctive closeness to Jiang She and relaxed in his company.

As they ate, they chatted idly.

First, Yuan Danqiu mentioned that the Emperor had opened new imperial examinations, signaling a great intention to recruit talent, and asked Meng Haoran if he planned to take them.

Li Bai sat cross-legged, holding his wine cup:

"Brother Meng could give it a try."

"With all those fools and mediocrities entering court as officials, Brother Meng would surely take first place."

He himself was the son of a merchant; merchants and artisans could not enter officialdom, so he had long given up on the examination path.

Meng Haoran was more carefree than him: "The court only admits about twenty people a year, and you have to submit your writings in advance. I have no connections in the capital—difficult, very difficult."

"Besides, entering court as some petty louse of an official—how could that compare to the freedom we have today?"

Li Bai leaned against the stone wall, occasionally picking at two or three dishes, already three cups of wine in and slightly drunk: "Being a minor official, buried in paperwork all day—that's no fun at all."

He turned to look at Jiang She.

"I see you have an extraordinary bearing. I wonder what sort of person you are, and what brought you to Lumen Mountain to seek immortals?"

Jiang She listened to them speak, his tone relaxed.

"I've been away from my hometown for too long. I lived in Shu for a few years before, and this time I'm traveling."

"Earlier, I happened to flip through a book and came across the passage about Pang Degong meeting an immortal on Lumen Mountain. The book only records 'and never returned.' This Humble One was curious about the reason, so I came to see if it was true or false."

"To travel a thousand miles for a single word—you have fine taste."

Li Bai praised.

Yuan Danqiu sat beside Li Bai, holding a bowl in one hand. He had originally intended to fill it with meat dishes, but seeing Jiang She sitting nearby, he shifted his chopsticks and picked up a few vegetarian dishes.

He was a Daoist, and since he didn't yet know this man's background or taboos, it was better not to offend.

Yuan Danqiu asked, "Young Master Jiang, have you ever seen traces of immortals before? Pang Degong was a man of the Han dynasty, and several hundred years have passed since. Even if the immortal encounter was real..."

"How can we know the truth of it?"

Li Bai and Meng Haoran were curious, and even the porter beside them looked up.

This young master had many oddities about him. His bearing was clearly not that of an ordinary man—he looked even more like an immortal than the Daoist who was currently bent over gnawing on a steamed cake. The porter thought to himself.

Thinking along those lines, it seemed that since meeting this young master, strange things had happened too. The herbs he carried felt lighter than before, and nothing was missing from his basket.

All four waited for an answer.

This wasn't hard to answer. Jiang She pondered for a moment.

"If there truly was an immortal encounter, then any divine or strange occurrence must have left traces. It's just a matter of following the vine to find the melon."

Li Bai sighed.

"I advise you to abandon this notion."

He spoke frankly: "To be honest, I've already lived on Lumen Mountain for some time. I've traversed every inch of it, every blade of grass and every tree etched in my mind. Brother Meng is a local who has resided here for many years. Aside from the fine scenery, I've found nothing divine or extraordinary about this mountain."

Jiang She smiled but said nothing.

Li Bai continued, "If you truly wish to witness it for yourself, I happen to be free today. I'm familiar enough with these woods to guide you."

"But as for immortals..."

Li Bai paused, locking eyes with him, and offered a sincere warning, "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."

Jiang She showed no sign of disappointment, only thanked him:

"Then I'll trouble you."

After the meal, another two quarters of an hour passed. Seeing the rain outside the mountain shrine had lightened, Li Bai planted three sticks of incense before the shrine, thanking the Mountain God for sheltering them.

Jiang She said, "Let me offer a stick as well."

He borrowed incense from the servant boy and, facing the cracked, moss-covered statue inside the shrine, clasped his hands in salute.

Li Bai was about to ask, "Do you need a light?"

When he saw a wisp of blue smoke rise from a stick of incense, curling upward along the fissures of the broken statue.

"Do you have a fire starter?" Li Bai set down the kindling he'd picked up, then bid farewell to Yuan Danqiu and Meng Haoran. They were originally supposed to descend the mountain at noon for a birthday celebration, but Li Bai, impatient with such affairs, had slipped away halfway.

"Yes."

Jiang She took his leave of the group and picked up his rain gear by the side. Outside the mountain shrine, only a misty drizzle remained. The clouds parted, the sun emerged, and birds perched in the forest, shaking their wet feathers as they chirped.

He and Li Bai stepped together onto the mountain path.

After the two left, the remaining people in the shrine began to discuss.

Yuan Danqiu chuckled.

"Taibai slipped away—he doesn't care for that old lady of the Lu Family."

Meng Haoran also smiled.

He gazed at the rugged mountain path where the two had vanished, now empty of figures. "That Jiang She doesn't seem like an ordinary man. Taibai's gone with him to seek immortals—I wonder what he's really looking for."

Yuan Danqiu pondered as well.

"I think so too. That Young Master Jiang likely possesses some divine arts. Why else would the rain not touch his clothes? He might be a master of our Daoist sect."

The porter, his heart unsettled, spoke up about the earlier strangeness.

"When we first met Young Master Jiang, he wasn't carrying any rain gear, so we called him over to take shelter in the shrine. Later, when he saw I was struggling with the medicine on my back, he offered to shield me from the rain. But how come I didn't see him with an umbrella before..."

"It's also odd—after Young Master Jiang opened his umbrella, not a single drop of rain blew onto me. I thought it was just because his umbrella was so big."

Yuan Danqiu found it strange as well.

He lamented, "This is an extraordinary man, perhaps a Mist and Cloud Hermit living in seclusion on the mountain. If I weren't bound for the Lu Family's birthday celebration, I'd wish I could join them up the mountain."

Meng Haoran also felt regret, but business came first.

"When Taibai returns, we'll ask him about it properly."

"We certainly should ask more!"

The rain had completely stopped.

The group had gathered because of the rain. Now, having rested and with the downpour ceased, it was time to part ways.

The porter lifted his bamboo basket, ready to sort through the medicinal herbs inside, shake off the rainwater, pick out the good ones, and head down the mountain to sell them at the pharmacy.

But inside, it was perfectly dry, without a trace of moisture. The roots and every leaf of the herbs were as fresh as if just picked, with no creases, damage, or signs of being wet.

As if an invisible hand had brushed away all the rain, bringing new life to the withered stems and leaves.

They were top-grade goods, through and through.

Thud. The basket hit the ground.

The porter stood frozen.

The other two came over to see.

After hearing what had happened.

In the mountain shrine—a Daoist, a scholar, and a porter. All three stood dumbfounded, staring at each other over a worn-out bamboo basket.

A long moment passed.

One by one, they left.

No one noticed that inside the shrine, the incense sticks on the altar suddenly burned with astonishing speed, blue smoke rising straight up.

The cracks on the Mountain God's statue slowly began to mend.