Fellow Daoist

Li Bai walked over, set down his wine flask, and asked, "Young Master Jiang, what matter did you wish to discuss with me?"

Jiang She said, "That day, I opened your Heavenly Eye, enabling you to see those things. Yesterday, I forgot to retract this art. To constantly behold the forms of ghosts and gods is no good thing."

"Fortunately, your courage is considerable, and your spirit was not startled. Otherwise, it would have been my fault."

Li Bai subconsciously touched his eyes.

He could now indeed see some bizarre things. Sometimes, catching sight of them abruptly would startle a person, but with more adaptation, being able to see ghosts and spirits added no small amount of interest compared to others.

He had lived on Lumen Mountain for some time now.

Gathering herbs with Yuan Danqiu, visiting friends with Meng Haoran—he was carefree and happy among these mountains, and often entered the local noble houses to attend poetry gatherings and literary assemblies.

He had prided himself on being intimately familiar with everything inside and outside Xiangyang city.

Yet now, he only came to know.

That there was a Hanged Ghost before the tree at the Lu Family estate. That on Lumen Mountain, there were many Mountain Spirits, and even a Mountain God who had lived for over eight hundred years.

Only then did he learn that the matter of Emperor Guangwu of Han entering a dream was no falsehood.

Another world had always been here.

Mountain spirits revealed their forms; sprites left traces of their presence. Gods and ghosts lived here, decade after decade, just as they always had.

It was merely that mortals were unaware and unfeeling.

Li Bai asked, "If I were to lose this ability, would I still be able to see the Mountain God?"

Jiang She smiled. "The Mountain God is the master of a region's mountains and rivers, not a yin spirit or ghost. If he wishes for you to see him, then naturally you will be able to see him."

The meaning within his words was that if the Mountain God wished to conceal his traces and not appear before men.

Then he would not be seen.

Li Bai asked again.

"Then could I still see the mountain sprites?"

"You would not see them."

Li Bai pondered quietly for a moment, then cupped his hands and said:

"Young Master Jiang, could This Humble One retain this Heavenly Eye?"

"In all my life, I have never witnessed such matters of immortals and gods. I came from Shu Prefecture to Xiang Prefecture, traveling over a thousand li along the way. The most I ever saw were reclusive Daoists. The Daoist arts possessed by those fangshi so highly praised by others are likely inferior to those of the three who swindled Lu the Eldest."

"Naturally, one should not compare noble recluses with swindlers who cheat people of their money."

"It is not that Daoist priests are bad, only that they are not what I seek. The path I seek is the way of learning from the immortals."

"It is the true Dao."

"Not the trade of burning incense to serve gods and striking bells day after day."

"In ancient times, Confucius encouraged his disciples, saying in the texts, 'If I hear the Way in the morning, I could die that evening.'"

"This Humble One feels the same."

The courtyard was very quiet. Yuan Danqiu had gone out to visit friends. Only in the southern room were two servants, who vaguely heard their master discussing matters; they kept their doors closed and did not come out. In the courtyard, there were only Li Bai and Jiang She.

Leaves rustled.

One stood, one sat, both beneath the shade of the tree, enjoying this coolness.

The things seen a few days prior were too bizarre; staying in a dream for seven days was even more unimaginable, and that Dream-Wandering Kingdom was actually a paradise for ants beneath the tree... All of this accumulated in Li Bai's heart.

When he studied as a youth, the path of immortals he had read about had now lifted a corner of its veil before him.

Too magnificent, too mysterious and wondrous.

Li Bai paused only briefly, then continued.

"In the past, I only saw such stories in books. It was only upon meeting Young Master Jiang that I witnessed that Lumen Mountain truly possesses a god who rules the mountain, saw the kingdom of ants beneath the tree, and traveled together in dreams—I cannot help but sigh with deep emotion."

"In the past, we were mediocre and busy, unaware and unfeeling—is this not the same as those ants beneath the tree?"

"Now that I have heard of it in one morning, it is like a fish in a dried-up pond encountering the waters of a river or lake."

"I treasure it more than life itself, and am unwilling to lose it. Thus, I hold it even more dearly."

Jiang She listened to his longing for and cherishing of the Dao, and listened very attentively.

He nodded.

"I understand."

"If you wish to keep it, naturally you may. So long as you do not give birth to fear in your heart."

After Li Bai spoke those words.

Since he had already opened his mouth, the questions accumulated in his heart could no longer be suppressed, like new bamboo shoots breaking through the soil after rain. He stared fixedly at Jiang She and asked stubbornly.

"Li Bai has one more matter to ask."

"Why does Young Master Jiang not accept Li Bai as a disciple?"

He asked with gravity, and Jiang She did not treat it lightly or answer carelessly.

After careful thought, he weighed his words.

Then said:

"This Humble One is also a wanderer, and has no plans to take on disciples for now."

"Moreover, a disciple must be chosen with care. Do not teach those who are not fit, do not impart to those who are unworthy. How can one know if another is worthy of receiving the Dao? That requires time to observe."

"I have known Taibai for less than a decade—not even ten full days. How could I make such a decision?"

He, Li Bai, Meng Haoran, and Yuan Danqiu had been brought together by a heavy rain. And because Li Bai had lit incense, he too had been moved to give thanks to the Mountain Lord of this place for sheltering them from the storm.

He had never expected the Lumen Mountain Deity to be an old deer.

Having gained ten years of lifespan, and bound by fate through the rain, he could not help but become entangled in worldly ties.

And the man standing beside him now, speaking to him, was Li Bai.

Was he a man of antiquity?

Or of the present?

Jiang She could not help but lose himself in thought, a faint regret stirring in his heart. When he came back to himself, Li Bai was still waiting for him to speak.

He smiled.

Reaching for the wine jug Li Bai had set on the table, he found two cups hidden in the kitchen and poured wine into them. A layer of foam floated on the surface of the liquor; it had been strained twice, a hazy, clear white.

Li Bai looked at the cups.

He had grown sensitive to such uncanny matters. He remembered the cups had been put away in the kitchen—how had they appeared on the table?

For a moment, he watched Jiang She pour the wine in silence.

Jiang She slid a cup across the table, placing it before Li Bai.

The wine jug pressed down on the paper he had just written on, spilling a few drops, yet the ink on the page was not smudged or dampened by the liquor.

Jiang She steadied the cup.

The tree shadows formed a mass of green. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, falling upon the table, the chairs, and the two of them, scattering broken light. All around was quiet, even the air seemed green.

It was as if the surrounding ghosts and Earth Deities could not hear their conversation.

Jiang She pondered, holding the cup, thinking.

"If you wish to cultivate the arts of the immortals, the fate is not yet upon you."

Li Bai asked: "When will the fate arrive?"

Jiang She smiled. He said: "That is for you to realize on your own."

"Is it not also good to travel together like this, chatting about worldly tales, and when we encounter strange tales of ghosts and gods, to go and see the excitement?"

"Those who journey together may come and go as they please."

"Bound by no fences."

"Then they can already be called Dao companions."

Having said this, Jiang She raised his cup and said with a smile: "I invite Taibai to drink with me."

"Is that acceptable?"

He spoke with frankness and openness—whether one possessed the Dao or not, whether one's cultivation was deep or shallow, all could discuss the Dao together, walk the same path, witness heaven and earth, and become Dao companions.

What exactly counted as fate?

Whether one could cultivate the path of the immortals—

These things were not mentioned.

Li Bai decided not to pursue the matter further. He raised his cup, tilted his head back, drank it all in one gulp, and laughed heartily.

"Of course, why not?"

He no longer had the awkwardness of seeking to become a disciple. Nor did they use overly respectful titles toward each other. It was like laughing and drinking with a friend.

It was a little like that day of heavy rain, when several people had gathered in a mountain shrine to take shelter, meeting by chance.

Leaves swayed in the air, rustling with the wind.

Li Bai sat down cross-legged on the ground, drinking, and then said:

"Mr. Jiang, that trick you used to fetch those two cups just now—what method was it?"

"It was like plucking something from thin air."

"Plucking from thin air?"

"Yes," Jiang She said. He beckoned to a bird perched on a tree. "Come."

The bird appeared in his hand, froze for a few breaths, then flapped its wings and flew away, leaving a dusting of feather powder on the wooden table. Jiang She brushed his hand over it, and the trace vanished.

"Remarkable!"