Departure Period

Magistrate Cheng held the letter paper, reading aloud as he muttered to himself.

"All the sages and worthies of old have died, only drinkers leave their names behind... only drinkers leave their names behind... What fine poetry."

Lady Zhao saw him mumbling for ages, snatched it over to look.

"What poem is this? Did your friend write it for you?"

"Shh—careful!"

Magistrate Cheng quickly steadied the paper back; this was an essay he'd waited days for.

"I'm quoting a line from Li Taibai's new work, written so well—wandering through the Banquet of Ghosts and Gods in a dream, so vivid it feels like experiencing it firsthand."

"In it, immortals expound the Dharma, Fierce Tigers discuss the Way, apes wail in grief, and Mountain Gods and Earth Deities gather together, with ghostly fiends and Spirit Demons ranked below them."

"And the poet drinks with them, gets thoroughly drunk, and only wakes days later."

"How carefree and unfettered..."

As Magistrate Cheng recited, he grew a little wistful.

Lady Zhao listened to him recite the poem once, fan swaying in her hand as she mulled it over. "This poem doesn't say it's a dream journey. How do you know it was written about a dream?"

Magistrate Cheng laughed. "How could I not know that?"

"Could it really be that..."

He suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Lady Zhao saw he'd caught on and said from the side, "Right, isn't it? Think about where Li Taibai lives—now he's staying in the same courtyard as that one. Who's to say... that one didn't take him there?"

Magistrate Cheng somewhat agreed in his heart.

But he refused to admit his wife was right, insisting stubbornly, "Probably it's all the buzz in town these days. He wrote the poem based on what that hunter said."

Lady Zhao put down her fan and pinched him.

"Still talking back!"

"The servant told you he met a Fierce Tiger, the one from the rumors, that could open its mouth and speak human words. Think about the Green-Robed Immortal that hunter encountered."

"Still want to argue with me?"

A light sting at his waist, and Cheng Zhi decided not to bicker with his wife.

"Alright, alright, whatever you say, dear."

Magistrate Cheng was in good spirits. He picked up the letter paper and read it again, the more he looked, the more pleased and refreshed he felt. He laughed:

"He's finally written this essay. This county magistrate will find a craftsman right away to carve it into a stone stele."

"Like this, this official can leave his name in history."

"Who knows, maybe I'll even get a promotion..."

"Haha..."

Lady Zhao asked, "What did it write about?"

Magistrate Cheng Zhi stroked his beard, prideful. "Under this magistrate's governance, the people are harmonious and content, the five grains abundant. Xiangyang attracted a passing immortal, who exposed those fraudsters and made them return the money to the Lu Family..."

"Then a hunter spent the night in the mountains and met an immortal."

"At the feast, cups clinked back and forth, day and night there was song and dance—truly a celestial delight."

The more Cheng Zhi thought, the sweeter it got. With every word he spoke, his mood lightened, until he'd finished recounting the recent miraculous events at Pure Void Temple on Black Stone Mountain.

"How about that? This happened a bit later, but I sent a letter chasing after it."

"Of the fifteen hundred county magistrates in the Great Tang, I alone met an immortal, haha."

"Blessed by heaven, truly a stroke of luck."

Li Bai's poem.

Within days, it spread throughout Xiang Prefecture.

Not only was everyone in the prefectural city of Xiangyang talking about it, but academy students were reciting it with swaying heads, and it had even spread to nearby places like Gucheng, Yiqing, and Lexiang counties.

For a time, paper was scarce in Xiangzhou.

The Xiang Prefecture Governor had also heard of it. The Banquet of Ghosts and Gods described in the poem was too magnificent and wondrous; even his children recited it at home a few times, frequently bringing up idle talk of spirits and ghosts at the dinner table.

The next day, the Xiang Prefecture Governor summoned Magistrate Cheng and asked him many questions.

Learning that Cheng Zhi was about to erect a stele for the immortal, the Governor simply said:

"Why not build a temple instead? Place the stele in front of the temple."

The Governor had read the poem and heard a bellyful of strange tales, his interest at its peak. He dipped his brush in ink, casually spread out a sheet of paper, and sketched a rough map of Xiangyang.

"Where is the Lu Family?"

Cheng Zhi pointed to a spot outside the county town, not far from Lumen Mountain, a place of scenic beauty.

"This is where the immortal first appeared at the Lu Family, and also where those nineteen people slept a great dream."

The Governor pondered.

"Where do you think the immortal temple should be erected?"

The Xiang Prefecture Governor felt a twinge of regret, stroking his beard. "Vice Director He's poetry is superb, but unfortunately, with His Majesty performing the Fengshan ceremony at Mount Tai this year, he's swamped with official duties and can't get away. Otherwise, I'd truly love to invite Vice Director He to compose an inscription—it could be carved there and passed down through the ages."

Vice Director He was He Zhizhang, currently serving as Vice Director of the Ministry of Rites and an academician of the Jixian Academy, a man of outstanding literary talent.

This year, the Emperor was to perform the Fengshan ceremony at Mount Tai, keeping everyone busy, so the Xiang Prefecture Governor didn't want to disturb him.

The two chatted for a while. Cheng Zhi, having listened the whole time, decided to add the Governor into his own article later and urged the craftsmen to finish carving the stele quickly.

After the others left, the Xiang Prefecture Governor recited the poem about immortals for a long time.

He savored it over and over in his mind.

He felt that spirits and gods laughed and chatted, words teased and jested, immortals expounded the Dao, pointing the way for men.

In a single night, he had seen it all.

He beckoned his subordinate and said with keen interest, "Quietly find out what kind of temperament that gentleman has, what he likes, and where he often goes."

"Don't disturb a lofty person's doorstep—such figures cherish tranquility. Don't bring displeasure to the immortals and gods."

"Also, prepare a gift. In a few days, on my day off, Cheng Zhi's stele should be finished carving. This Official will pay a visit."

"Do you understand?"

His subordinate clasped his hands in a salute. "This lowly one will see to it at once."

Jiang She sat in the courtyard. It was quiet here, which made the sounds from outside all the clearer.

Unlike the first few days after his arrival, Jiang She could now pick out the vendors' cries from the street—the Wang Family's sesame flatbreads. With the summer heat growing heavy, a cold drink stall had set up nearby, and their hawthorn and plum water was the best-tasting.

He could also make out.

The neighbor's little boy was waging war with tree branches against the other children in the neighborhood, all vying to be the general. They usually ended up in a brawl, none willing to yield, and every time it finished with sobbing and sniffling as each was dragged home crying by their parents.

The cats, frightened by the commotion, scrambled up the tree.

Among them, a small black cat trotted over from along the wall.

Seeing Jiang She, it was much more familiar now. It rubbed its head against the wall, watching him sort through his things.

Jiang She counted. Between the copper coins and scattered gold, he had five qian of gold dust, twelve strings of cash, and two hundred fifty-six loose coins. On the road, carrying strings of copper was inconvenient, so most people slung them over their shoulders, but Jiang She had other methods.

It was already a considerable sum—enough to support an ordinary family for two or three years.

And since he owed no taxes, it would stretch even further.

There were also three bottles of pills, nine in total, and six vials of spiritual liquid. Jiang She set them on the table first, unable to think of a use for them for now, and decided to deal with them later.

Two changes of clothes, a waterskin, a clay bowl.

A few books, some paper and brushes, that handwritten journal, and a map.

The table was already full. The cat on the wall seemed quite interested in the medicine bottles and gold dust, its round feline eyes fixed on them, occasionally licking its little paws.

Jiang She put them away in time.

To keep the cat from knocking over the medicine bottles, and to avoid any financial loss.

After taking stock of his old belongings, Jiang She went to the kitchen and fetched a piece of meat for the cat.

The cat had been fed often and wasn't shy. It mewed softly as it ate, chewing and humming, clearly enjoying the meal.

Li Bai returned from a banquet just at noon. The courtyard was peaceful, shaded by green trees. He saw Mr. Jiang feeding meat to the neighbor's cat—big chunks of poultry, but the cat's teeth were tiny, so it had to tear carefully.

Li Bai couldn't help but smile.

"That cat's here to freeload again."

The cat's ears perked up. Seeing the newcomer, it gradually arched its back and ate even more fiercely, afraid someone might snatch its food.

"Taibai."

Jiang She stroked the kitten's fluffy head.

"After tomorrow, I'll be leaving."