Bai Could Show You the Way

The porter warming himself by the fire immediately turned his head and looked askance.

That was right—this young gentleman wasn't even wet.

The rain was coming down so hard that even with his straw hat, the porter had gotten soaked. How had this man walked for so long without getting his clothes wet?

The porter stared at Jiang She for a few breaths, then quickly came to his senses. He didn't dare look directly at him anymore, only watching the woodpile and the hem of his clothes from the corner of his eye. Every so often, he glanced at the rain outside the temple, wondering if it had let up enough for them to leave.

Li Bai seemed lost in thought.

His eyes grew brighter and brighter. He didn't even notice that wine had spilled.

Nearby, the Daoist Yuan Danqiu and Meng Haoran exchanged a glance, their eyes also settling on Jiang She's dry clothes. Yuan Danqiu picked up the wine cup Li Bai had filled and, without drawing attention to himself, held it out.

Jiang She smiled. "I had rain gear to protect me, so of course my clothes stayed dry."

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

Li Bai didn't believe him. "The rain was slanting. Even with something to shield you from it, the hem of your clothes would still get wet. How could—"

"Taibai."

Yuan Danqiu cut him off.

He picked up the wine pot and poured Jiang She a drink.

"Brother Jiang has been talking for quite a while without wetting his throat. The damp is heavy on a rainy day, so why not drink a little wine to ward off the chill first?" As he spoke, Yuan Danqiu called for the servant nearby to set out another pair of bowls and chopsticks.

Li Bai smiled and lifted his cup.

"I was remiss. Allow me to drink to you."

The two drained their cups, and Jiang She found it all rather amusing.

The figures from a thousand years ago stood before him. They were no longer a few lines of explanation in a book, but living, breathing people who could be surprised and curious.

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

Because of a downpour, they had gathered around the fire to drink wine.

The firewood crackled. Outside the temple, white raindrops danced, and the spring mountains lay green beneath a veil of mist.

The servant finished making soup. When the food and wine arrived, the porter didn't dare touch them. He had forgotten his earlier suspicions and unease, and instinctively looked toward Jiang She. The man gave a slight nod.

For some reason, the porter felt relieved. He followed the example of this unfamiliar young gentleman he had just met and began eating, though he didn't dare take much, sticking to the dishes closest to him.

Perhaps because they had talked all the way along the mountain path through the heavy rain, the porter instinctively felt close to Jiang She. He felt at ease in his company.

The group chatted as they ate.

Yuan Danqiu was the first to speak, mentioning that the emperor had expanded the special examinations to recruit talent. He asked whether Meng Haoran intended to sit for them.

Meng Haoran sat cross-legged, holding a wine cup.

"Brother Meng could certainly give it a try."

"Those fools and mediocrities can all take office at court. Brother Meng would surely come out on top."

Li Bai was a merchant's son, and merchants were barred from entering officialdom. He had long since given up on the imperial examinations.

Meng Haoran was more easygoing than he was. "The court takes on no more than twenty people a year, and you have to submit your writings in advance. I have no connections in the capital. It's a hard road, a hard road."

"Besides, what freedom would we have if we went to court and became officials, lice on a man's body?"

Li Bai leaned against the stone wall. He occasionally picked at a dish, and after three cups of wine, he was already a little tipsy. "There's no pleasure in becoming a minor official and burying yourself in paperwork all day."

He turned his gaze to Jiang She.

"You strike me as a man of extraordinary bearing. May I ask who you are, and what brought you to Lumen Mountain in search of immortals?"

Jiang She had listened to them speak at ease.

"I left my hometown long ago. I lived in the Shu Region for a few years, and now I'm traveling."

"I happened to come across the passage about Pang Degong encountering an immortal on Lumen Mountain while browsing through a book. The book only recorded that 'afterward, he never returned.' I was curious about the reason, so I came to see whether the story was true."

"To travel a thousand miles over a single word—what a refined pursuit," Li Bai exclaimed.

Yuan Danqiu sat beside Li Bai, holding a bowl. He had been about to fill it with meat, but when he noticed Jiang She sitting nearby, he veered his chopsticks and took several helpings of vegetables instead.

He was a Daoist and didn't know what sort of person this man was or what taboos he might observe. Better not to offend him.

Yuan Danqiu asked, "Have you ever seen traces of an immortal before, Brother Jiang? Pang Degong lived in the Han dynasty, hundreds of years ago. Even if the story of his encounter with an immortal is true..."

"How could we know whether it's true or false?"

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

This young gentleman had many peculiarities. His bearing alone showed he was no ordinary person. He seemed even more like an immortal than the Daoist, who was bent over his steamed cake. The porter thought to himself.

Thinking along those lines, it seemed that strange things had happened since he met this young gentleman, too. The medicinal herbs on his back had felt lighter than usual, and nothing had gone missing from his basket.

All four of them waited for an answer.

It wasn't difficult to answer. Jiang She pondered for a moment.

"If there truly was an encounter with an immortal, then whatever supernatural events took place must have left traces. We need only follow the clues."

Li Bai sighed.

"I'd advise you to give up on that idea."

He spoke frankly. "To tell you the truth, I've lived on Lumen Mountain for some time. I've explored every inch of it, and know every blade of grass and every tree by heart. Brother Meng is a local, and he's lived here for many years. Aside from its fine scenery, we've found nothing supernatural about this mountain."

Jiang She smiled but said nothing.

Li Bai said, "If you truly want to see for yourself, I happen to have some free time today. I know these woods fairly well, so I can show you the way."

"But as for the immortals..."

Li Bai paused and met his eyes, offering a sincere word of caution. "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."

Jiang She showed no sign of disappointment. He simply thanked him.

"Then I'll trouble you."

After they finished eating, another half hour passed. When they saw that the rain outside the mountain temple had eased, Li Bai lit three sticks of incense before it to thank the Mountain God for sheltering them along the way.

Jiang She said, "I'll offer a stick of incense, too."

He borrowed a stick from the servant and clasped his hands in a salute before the cracked, crumbling statue inside the temple, now thickly covered in moss.

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

Then he saw a thin stream of smoke curl up from the incense and drift toward the cracked statue.

"Did you bring a tinderbox?" Li Bai set down the firewood he had picked up, then bade Yuan Danqiu and Meng Haoran farewell. They had planned to head down the mountain at the hour of the goat to attend a birthday celebration. Li Bai had no patience for such things and had slipped away halfway there.

"I did."

Jiang She bid the others farewell and picked up the rain gear he had set aside. Outside the mountain temple, only a fine mist remained. The clouds parted and the sun came out; birds landed among the trees, shaking out their rain-soaked feathers as they chirped.

He and Li Bai set off along the mountain path.

Only after the two had left did those remaining in the temple begin to talk.

Yuan Danqiu said with a smile,

"Taibai made himself scarce. He doesn't like that old lady from the Lu Family."

Meng Haoran smiled as well.

He gazed down the rugged path the two had taken, but they were already out of sight. "Jiang She doesn't seem like an ordinary man. I wonder what Taibai is going to look for with him."

Yuan Danqiu pondered it, too.

"I think so as well. That young gentleman Jiang may possess some sort of supernatural Daoist arts. Otherwise, how could the rain fail to wet his clothes? Perhaps he's a great master from our Daoist tradition."

The porter listened, his heart in turmoil, then recounted the strange things that had happened earlier.

"When we first met Brother Jiang, I didn't see him carrying any rain gear, so I invited him to the mountain temple to take shelter. Later, when he saw how hard I was struggling with the herbs, he offered to shield me from the rain. How come I didn't see him carrying an umbrella before?"

"It was strange, too. Once Brother Jiang opened his umbrella, not a drop of rain blew onto me. I thought his umbrella must have been huge."

Yuan Danqiu found it strange as well.

"What a remarkable man. Perhaps he's a Mist and Cloud Hermit living in seclusion on the mountain. If I hadn't had to go wish the Lu Family a happy birthday, I'd have loved to go up the mountain with him."

Meng Haoran was sorry to miss the chance, too, but they had more pressing matters.

"When Taibai comes back, we should ask him all about it."

"We certainly should!"

The rain had stopped completely.

The three had come together because of the rain. Now that they had rested and the downpour had passed, it was time to leave.

The porter lifted the lid of his basket, intending to sort through the medicinal herbs inside, shake off the rain, and pick out the best ones to sell at the pharmacy down the mountain.

But the inside was completely dry—not a drop of rainwater remained. Every root, stem, and leaf looked as fresh as if it had just been picked, without the slightest crease or break, and with no sign of having been soaked by the rain.

It was as if a hand had swept away every drop of rain and brought the withered herbs back to life.

They were all top-grade goods.

With a thud, the basket hit the ground.

The porter stood stunned.

The other two hurried over when they heard the noise.

Once they had heard the whole story, the three of them—a Daoist, a scholar, and a porter—stood gaping in the mountain temple, staring at the old basket and at one another.

After a long while,

the three left one after another.

No one noticed that in the Mountain God's temple, the incense on the altar suddenly burned at a furious pace, its smoke rising straight up.

The crack in the statue of the Mountain God slowly began to grow.