Jiang She calculated the time.
He invited him, saying, "I'm going to visit the Deer Mountain God and meet that deceitful Zhang Zhenmei, so we can settle the loose ends from before."
"Would you care to come with me?"
The Mountain God had helped him a great deal these past few days. Of course, that was partly because of the stick of incense, but it was also due to the Mountain God's own nature. He was a benevolent deity, always glad to help others.
He ought to help the Mountain God sever his karmic ties, too.
Li Bai set down the wine pot he'd been using to pour, took a drink, and lounged in a loose half-lotus position, reeking of wine.
His mind roamed free, carefree and unrestrained.
Now he had returned to his former unbridled, unconventional self, with the lofty, expansive air of a gifted poet.
He smiled and said,
"That's exactly what I'd hoped for."
The two of them finished the pot of wine, drained their cups, and left together.
Not long after Jiang She departed, the courtyard fell silent, too.
The afternoon sun beat down on the courtyard once more. The neighbors' voices carried over: a husband and wife were quarreling, a child was wailing, an old woman was muttering, and a man suddenly let loose a string of curses.
From far away came the faint cries of street vendors.
"Fresh, steaming flatbread! Three cash apiece!"
A bird perched on a branch, cocked its head, and pecked a particularly fat bug out from under the leaves. It swallowed the bug in two bites.
Half an hour later,
Yuan Danqiu brushed dust from himself as he trudged back inside, looking the worse for wear.
He was still cursing. "That foul-mouthed lout is no good! Why'd he have to start swinging at me? He nearly hit me with his hoe. So the neighbor's tree grew over his wall—why not just sweep up after it? Was there any need to get violent?"
Then he called out,
"Mr. Jiang—"
"Taibai—"
"Hm? They're not here?"
He searched around, but couldn't find them in their rooms either. After asking the servant staying in the south room, he learned that the two had left half an hour earlier.
Yuan Danqiu muttered to himself for a while, venting a bellyful of complaints and shaking off his lingering fear after nearly getting hit by the hoe. Then he gulped down two bowls of well water to cool off.
He noticed a sheet of paper lying on the courtyard table. There seemed to be writing on it.
He walked over and picked it up for a closer look.
Yuan Danqiu froze.
A sheet of white paper lay flat before him.
"Didn't I just see something written on it? Could I have... imagined it?" Yuan Danqiu rubbed his eyes, looked around, turned the paper over and over, and examined it several more times. He was practically about to peel the paper apart to check.
Sure enough, there wasn't a single word on it.
He looked up, frowning.
Then he noticed the branches and leaves hanging above the table, with sunlight filtering through the gaps.
Understanding dawned on him.
Yuan Danqiu suddenly realized, "It must have been shadows cast by the tree."
He didn't give it much thought. After glancing at it a couple of times, he decided that the shadows on the paper had a special, unadorned beauty. Then he went back to his room, thinking over what he'd learned during his visit with a friend. He found a notebook, half of which was already filled.
Yuan Danqiu flipped through it casually, found a blank page, ground some ink, and dipped his brush. With his sleeves gathered up, he wrote and read aloud as he went.
He said,
"Lead is the White Tiger; mercury is the Azure Dragon."
"Yin and yang restrain each other; water and fire achieve harmony... Ah, lead is the essence of kidney water, while mercury is the primordial spirit of heart fire. Thus they restrain and support each other..."
"Wonderful!"
"I'll go buy some medicinal ingredients and use this method to fire up a batch of pills. Then I can show Young Master Jiang my alchemy, hahaha..."
After he went into the room,
the branches crisscrossed overhead, casting green shadows. The writing on the rattan paper atop the table gradually reappeared.
The brush and ink still lay on the table, exactly as they had before Jiang She left.
The stream on Lumen Mountain flowed as ever.
Standing at the foot of the mountain and gazing up at its verdant slopes beneath the dazzling sunlight, Jiang She recalled that it had rained in Xiangyang eight days ago—the downpour that had driven him to take shelter in the mountain shrine.
He also thought of the porter.
Now the weather was clear. He wondered whether the man was gathering herbs on the mountain or weighing goods at a shop below, arguing with the shopkeeper over the amount.
After looking around for a while, he called out,
"Lumen Mountain Deity, please come meet me."
Li Bai watched the scene closely. Even though he had witnessed something similar while observing the Lu Family, he still found it uncanny.
"The mountains and rivers stretch at least several miles."
He asked, "How can the Mountain God hear Young Master Jiang's call? Is there some subtle principle at work that I don't know?"
"There is."
Li Bai waited a long while.
But no explanation followed.
He raised his head, about to ask again, when he heard an aged voice.
"Sir."
Old Deer Mountain God had appeared at some point.
Old Deer Mountain God stroked his white beard and smiled as he answered Li Bai. "Young Master Li, have you ever seen the temple keeper offer incense before a Land God Temple?"
"Or have you ever seen a monk or a Daoist burn incense and pray before a statue of a god, in a temple or monastery?"
It was an exceedingly common sight. Anyone who had visited a temple had surely seen devout believers offer incense. Besides, Li Bai had always been a devotee of Daoism; he had visited many Daoist temples and called on many immortal masters and Daoist priests.
Old Deer Mountain God saw that he was beginning to understand.
He nodded with a smile.
"That's how the Mountain God can hear people's words, how the statues in temples can convey their meaning, and how divination slips before a temple can prove so wondrously accurate."
He said it casually.
"All methods lead to the same truth."
Though he didn't know why the gentleman kept bringing this mortal along, Old Deer Mountain God was willing to indulge him and explain a thing or two. Perhaps the gentleman especially liked talented people.
Several hundred years ago, Pang Degong, who had lived in seclusion on Lumen Mountain to gather herbs,
had never enjoyed such good fortune in his entire life: to receive a lesson from the Mountain God of the place.
In the end, all he'd gained was a full lifespan of a hundred and twenty years.
Lumen Mountain Deity asked, "Sir, why have you summoned this humble god?"
Jiang She rose to his feet. Not a speck of dust clung to him. He gazed at the stream as it wound through the mountain. Sunlight spilled across the water in a scatter of golden shards, dazzling to the eye. As the stream flowed by, two or three fish could just be made out. The water was so clear that they seemed to swim through the air, their tails flicking back and forth.
Behind them, a few wild deer could be glimpsed among the mountain woods, their antlers rising above the treetops.
"I'd like to go with the Mountain God and see Zhang Zhenmei."
Jiang She said, "We should at least make sure they return the money."
The Mountain God rarely dealt with people. He devoted himself to cultivation in the mountains, occasionally tending to the earth's ley lines and lecturing the spirits of the mountains and fields. He seldom manifested before mortals. When it came to human relationships and worldly affairs, he was less astute than an old clerk at the county office.
"Quite right!"
"This humble god nearly forgot. For mortals, that's the most important thing."
As they spoke,
in a certain courtyard,
Qingyu was crouched on the ground in front of a chest, counting money.
Copper coins lay all around him. He counted them one by one and strung them together. This was money he and the others had earned by following Zhang Zhenmei around and conning people. They'd saved it themselves, and only spent a little now and then at the market on fresh treats and amusements. They never spent it lightly.
The young boy beside him was counting his own loose coins, too.
The more they counted, the fewer coins remained. They strung them together, recorded the amount, and put them in the chest.
Their hearts grew heavier and heavier.
The boy counted out a dozen or so coins. No matter how he tried, the rest weren't enough to make another string. The chests were all packed full, while the bundles in front of them were empty.
The boy kept glancing at the few official silver ingots. He reached out to touch the government silver, then the strings of coins in the chest. His heart felt as if someone had stripped off his skin and pulled out his sinews.
A tear struck the ground.
He sniffled, and at last he couldn't hold back his sobs.
When he thought of how, for the rest of his life, he'd have to earn money and lecture the wild beasts in the mountains for ten years,
he began to weep in shuddering sobs.
He was afraid for the future that awaited him, and only now did he realize that his former carefree happiness had been a mistake.
The realization came late.
He was no longer as innocent and free of worries as before.
The moment he thought of it, fear gripped his heart. He could no longer enjoy the ease and happiness he'd known before. All he could think was that having money was very, very good.
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