All Beings Die, Only I Remain

It was already five days later when he learned of this, and Li Bai found it hard to snap back to reality for a moment.

He touched his stomach—perhaps because he had eaten too much at the banquet earlier, he didn't feel hungry.

"Is Master Jiang at home?"

A voice came from outside the courtyard. Priest Lian Yue supported the Old Temple Master as they stood at the gate.

Jiang She invited them in.

Seeing that the elderly man in the Daoist robe was advanced in years, the servant dared not let such an old person catch a chill and specially laid out a soft cushion.

The Old Temple Master said, "Master Jiang, I've had people look into that alchemist and found out a little something."

"Please, Temple Master, speak."

Jiang She perked up.

"I hear the man's surname is Du, though his given name is unknown. He styles himself Daoist Mirror Dust, is said to have no small skill, and has many disciples following him."

"This humble priest has never dealt with him, and the people in the temple have only heard his Daoist title, not knowing what his character is like."

"That is already more than enough. Many thanks to the Temple Master for your trouble."

"I dare not, I dare not."

On this visit, the Old Temple Master's spirits were far better. He had originally wanted to come down the mountain alone to call on Jiang She, but his age was too great, and none of the temple's disciples felt at ease with it. Out of concern and a longing for immortal fate, they argued endlessly.

In the end, they let Priest Lian Yue, who had always had dealings with Yuan Danqiu, accompany him.

Meeting Young Master Jiang again, Priest Lian Yue was somewhat nervous.

Jiang She naturally noticed this and smiled. "Priest, there's no need to be tense. I'm not some man-eating demon."

Priest Lian Yue only grew more rigid.

The Old Temple Master laughed from the side. "Aside from that Daoist title, there is another matter. Yesterday, Magistrate Cheng came by, and upon hearing that I was to visit you, entrusted me with a question."

Li Bai asked bluntly.

"Why doesn't the Magistrate come himself?"

The Old Temple Master chuckled. "The Magistrate had no proper pretext to call, and dared not disturb you rashly."

Jiang She asked, "May I ask what the matter is?"

The Old Temple Master then explained in detail.

Last year, the imperial court had issued an edict: this year, the Thirteenth Year of Kaiyuan, in autumn and winter, the Emperor would perform the Fengshan sacrifice at Mount Tai. Among those accompanying him, according to the edict, were capital officials of the fifth rank and above, envoys from foreign states, members of the Li Tang imperial clan, meritorious officials and their descendants—all were to go together.

Beyond this, the Emperor also ordered Daoist priests to set up an altar at the foot of Mount Tai and conduct a purification ritual, praying for favorable winds and rains, and for the nation's peace and prosperity.

He further ordered officials from all regions to seek out auspicious omens.

For instance, the purple vapor that had appeared over Mount Tai earlier.

For instance, Sima Chengzhen, the "Teacher of the Daoist Gate," had reported that the Mount Tai God had bestowed blessings and auspicious signs.

Li Bai interjected, "The Magistrate isn't asking Master Jiang to serve as an auspicious omen himself, is he?"

The Old Temple Master laughed heartily. "Young Master, don't let the Magistrate hear that, or he might be frightened out of his wits. Where would he get the nerve..."

He wiped away tears of laughter.

"Because of the Fengshan, His Majesty has invited many accomplished Daoists to accompany him to Mount Tai."

"The Magistrate wanted to ask: if you were willing to go, he could provide a recommendation."

The Old Temple Master continued, "And this humble priest also thought that perhaps that Daoist Mirror Dust might be among them. The sea of people is vast, and finding one man is exceedingly difficult—this could be a chance to try."

"Of course!"

"If you have some profound Daoist art to locate him directly, then you need not heed what this old priest has said."

The Golden Crow sank westward, the sun gradually slanted, the sky dimmed and grew dusky, thick gray clouds piled up across half the heavens. The air was heavy, humid, and stifling—a great rain was coming.

Jiang She counted on his fingers.

Li Bai, the Old Temple Master, and Priest Lian Yue all held their breath and concentrated, making no sound, afraid to disturb the immortal's divination.

After a few breaths.

Jiang She smiled. "It seems I really will have to go."

He pondered for a moment, then said, "As for Magistrate Cheng... Temple Master, please decline on my behalf. This Jiang is too used to a carefree life; I fear the Heavenly House and I have no affinity."

At these plain, unremarkable words, Li Bai lifted his head sharply, sensing the true immortal's attitude.

Not that I have no affinity with the Heavenly House.

But that the Heavenly House has no affinity with me.

Master Jiang had always treated people with courtesy—even the workers at the tea stall were spoken to politely and gently, never with harsh words. The words he spoke to the Old Temple Master were equally calm and mild.

Yet the bearing of an immortal swept over them all.

It was the mortal emperor who had no affinity with the immortal. Not the immortal who had no affinity with the emperor.

Whether you were a ruler of men, a county magistrate, a poor man, or a wandering refugee—all were regarded the same. What political achievements, what official rank, however high your position, however noble your birth—none of it mattered.

All were mortal too.

Li Bai seemed lost in thought.

The Old Temple Master also sensed something, letting out a long sigh. "It pains me that I was born decades too early. If it were sixty years ago—no, even ten years ago—when I met Mr. Jiang."

"I would have sworn to follow him."

"And knelt at his door day after day."

To these words, Jiang She made no reply.

The Old Temple Master understood in his heart, sighed inwardly, finished his cup of tea, and took his leave.

After watching the Dragon Boat races on the fifth of May, another half month passed. Xiangyang was no different, save for the heat growing more intense.

That day, drinking tea on the mountain with the Old Deer Mountain God and reading travelogues, the Old Deer Mountain God smiled. "Sir, you seem restless from too much stillness."

Jiang She agreed.

He said, "In the past, living secluded in my old home, I felt nothing of it. But once I began to move, I wanted to see more, to witness the world's scenery."

The Old Deer Mountain God said, "This is how immortals and gods roam—traveling the North Sea in the morning and reaching Cangwu by dusk."

"But I don't wish to go so fast."

Jiang She turned a page in the book he held, speaking idly. "If I were to see all the world's affairs and traverse every river and mountain in a single day, how would I spend the days that follow?"

"I'd rather slow down."

"Walk through it bit by bit, get to know it little by little."

The Lumen Mountain God felt the same.

For spirits like them, with lifespans so long that mortals deemed them immortal, he had personally watched over the Lu Family for centuries. He had seen Scholar Lu die in his time, and the Lu Family wither generation after generation, knowing well the bitter taste of it.

Having witnessed so much death and life.

He also understood the truth in Jiang She's words.

The Old Deer Mountain God asked, "For us who walk the path of cultivation, from the moment we set foot on it, we can see the remainder of our own lifespans. The world is vastly different from what mortals perceive."

"I wonder, what does the world look like to an immortal?"

After spending this time together, the Old Deer Mountain God was curious how an immortal like Mr. Jiang viewed such matters.

Jiang She thought for a moment.

"With one glance."

"There is no end in sight."

His tone softened slightly, spoken plainly:

"And there is great terror."

With that, Jiang She took out the Map of the Ten Circuits gifted to him by Magistrate Cheng. It depicted the rivers and mountains of the Great Tang, with farther lands unrecorded, many mystical places omitted, and the immortal islands spoken of in ancient texts nowhere to be found.

This was a lonely world.

Jiang She looked down at it, his gaze falling on Mount Tai, tracing the prefectures and counties along the path he would need to travel.

Across from him, seated.

The White Deer Mountain God of Lumen Mountain remained lost in thought for a long time.

He felt as though he had glimpsed the immortals and gods of ancient legends, a single sentence carrying the weight of a thousand years.

Times change, things shift. People die, books rot, grass and trees wither and bloom, mountains and rivers crumble and dry up, dynasties rise and fall.

All living things perish.

Only I endure.

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