When Zhou Dongdong went downstairs, she discovered that the place where the little hen had been buried had already been dug up. Furious, she knew Liu Chang'an really had not waited for her to dig it up together. After handing him the soy milk, she buried the toy chick she had brought downstairs in the original hole, then stood on top of it and jumped for a long time, packing the dirt down tightly. She also warned Liu Chang'an not to dig up her chick.
After watching Zhou Dongdong bury the toy chick, Liu Chang'an finished his soy milk and set off running toward Yan'gui Lake.
Yan'gui Lake lay in the northwestern corner of Junsha. From the summit of Mount Lu, one could see that expanse of emerald water, but it was actually nearly twenty kilometers from Liu Chang'an's home.
Liu Chang'an planned to run there in two or three hours. That was not particularly difficult for him. After all, the great migrations throughout history had mostly been made on foot. Forget horse carriages—even getting to ride in an ox cart had been an excellent privilege.
Besides, traveling long distances on foot was far safer and more convenient now than it had been in the past. When Su Shi had been exiled to the southern islands years ago, Chao Gu of Meishan had traveled thousands of miles to visit him. Already seventy-three at the time, Chao Gu had probably feared he might not live to see Su Shi pardoned and meet him again. Yet his luggage was stolen on the road, and the old man died stranded along the way, never seeing his friend after all.
It was not yet ten when Liu Chang'an reached Yan'gui Lake. As he crossed the long bridge, the lake and mountains spread out before