The setting sun and evening clouds blazed crimson.
Xuanming led Chang'anzi out of the Path-Seeking Courtyard.
The old man and the young man walked in silence.
Only as they drew closer to a courtyard did Chang'anzi's expression change, excitement mingling with sorrow.
Stopping before the entrance, Xuanming did not immediately open the gate. Memories surged like a tide, engulfing him for a moment. Only after several breaths did he push it open.
With a creak, the wooden gates swung to either side.
The little courtyard was simple yet elegant: three thatched rooms, one stone table, four stone stools, and clumps of lush bamboo towering overhead. Long uninhabited, it seemed all the more secluded and serene.
Xuanming and Chang'anzi stepped inside, both walking very slowly, as though treading through bygone days.
Someone regularly cleaned this place. Once, it had been Chang'anzi; after he left the mountain, the task fell to the Daoist attendants. Xuanming sometimes came to sweep it himself.
All because this had been Senior Brother Xuan Ye's home.
Xuanming invited Chang'anzi to sit. Gazing at the autumn bamboo shoots just poking out of the earth, he said softly:
"Back then, I was simple-minded, and Senior Brother Xuan Ye showed me the greatest care. So I often came here to play. In this tiny patch of ground, I felt most at ease. I loved digging up bamboo shoots here, and Senior Brother always played along with me, then stir-fried the shoots himself for me to eat.
"In the blink of an eye, so many years have passed. It all feels as though it happened yesterday, growing ever fresher with time. Sadly, the dear friend of those days is no longer here."
His feelings tangled, Chang'anzi said, "Master often reminded me back then to look after you whenever I had time,