A Grand Mix-up

The three men seemed a little panicked as they left. Yi Shuyuan stood there puzzling over it for a while, then suddenly broke into a helpless chuckle. Surely they hadn't taken him for some spirit of the wilds too?

"Those three really are amusing!"

Still smiling, Yi Shuyuan picked up the bamboo flask of wine and the packet of cakes from the ground, looked around at the mountain paths, and set off again.

A little under an hour's walk from the ancient pine, Yi Shuyuan found a Mountain God Temple standing on a relatively gentle ridge. A mountain peak rose behind it on one side, while the other lay open, with several large trees of unknown species shading the little temple.

Yi Shuyuan let out a breath and walked over. The temple stood in a rather remote spot. Clearly, this Mountain God wasn't all that hungry for incense offerings-though perhaps whoever had built the temple simply hadn't had much sense.

Stepping through the temple entrance, he found the interior as weathered and worn as the outside, with a faint scent of sandalwood lingering in the air.

An incense burner and candleholders stood on the offering table, along with an overturned platter of offerings: steamed buns left there who knew how long ago, some scattered on the floor and some on the table. Perhaps some small animal had knocked them over.

The deity's statue sat upright on a raised platform. The clay figure wore a cloak and looked imposing. A yellow banner hanging beneath the central beam concealed everything above its shoulders; only from beside the offering table could one see the entire statue.

There were words on the banner, and Yi Shuyuan read them softly aloud.

"Overseeing Broad South Mountain."

Yi Shuyuan walked up to the offering table, picked up a bun, and squeezed it. It was as hard as a stone. It seemed no one had brought offerings to this temple for a long time. That didn't mean no one visited, however: there were traces of fires in a few corners, along with piles of firewood.

The wood might have been left by the Mountain God in his woodcutter's guise, but the fires probably hadn't been his doing.

Yi Shuyuan set the sealed bamboo flask on the offering table, righted the platter, and placed three rice cakes on it.

"One flask of cloudy wine, three rice cakes-a small token of my sincerity."

Afterward, Yi Shuyuan hesitated, but ultimately didn't kneel on the cushion and bow like a worshipper. First, he'd never had that habit in either of his lives. Second, he hadn't come to petition a god. Third, he'd already met and chatted with the Mountain God. To put it in terms that might overestimate his own standing, the friendship Yi Shuyuan wanted wasn't one in which he stood a rung below the other party.

Yes, after arriving at this Mountain God Temple, Yi Shuyuan had felt something that confirmed the woodcutter from earlier was the Mountain God.

So Yi Shuyuan merely cupped his hands toward the statue before leaving. At most, he'd come to strike up an acquaintance. Since the other party didn't want to appear, there was no need to shamelessly linger.

After all, Yi Shuyuan had come all the way here. How could the god of the mountain not know he'd made the trip specifically to visit?

As he was about to leave, Yi Shuyuan looked back at the Mountain God's statue and thought, How long could a mere mortal live?

In a world without high-speed trains, planes, or cars, with mountains and wilderness everywhere and roads both primitive and dangerous, how far could I travel?

Still, Yi Shuyuan believed there was something unusual about him. Perhaps the Mountain God could clear up his questions; perhaps he might even have a chance to glimpse the path of immortality? Even if not, there was nothing wrong with befriending a few ghosts, gods, or spirits.

Walking out of the Mountain God Temple, Yi Shuyuan smiled faintly. A playful impulse stirred in him, and he went on his way singing.

"Cutting timber, oh~~ gathering firewood~ living out my days~~~ one flask of cloudy wine~~~ three measures of rice~~~"

His voice carried far, lilting and melodious, no less pleasing than the woodcutter's earlier song. Even its carefree ease fell no short-or rather, Yi Shuyuan had a spirit all his own.

His nap beneath the ancient pine had already delayed him long enough. Since he hadn't seen the Mountain God, Yi Shuyuan decided to head back. Broad South Mountain was no small place, and he abandoned his original plan to visit South Hill Ridge. If he went there from here, it would certainly be dark by the time he returned to the county town.

With mountain songs mingling with little tunes along the way, Yi Shuyuan passed the ancient pine again. He cupped his hands toward the great tree without stopping, then headed back, humming.

He hadn't left the whole packet of cakes at the Mountain God Temple. Half remained with him, serving as his lunch.

At the Yuanjiang County Office, a figure hurried into a courtyard at the rear and ran straight toward the room where Registrar Wu Minggao worked.

Before he arrived, his voice had already reached the room.

"Uncle, Uncle, I was-"

"What's all this rushing about? Where's your decorum?"

Wu Minggao looked up at the newcomer and cut him off with a rebuke. The young man shrank back a little, slowed his steps, and approached the desk before speaking quietly.

"Uncle, when it rained earlier, two friends and I ran into something strange on Broad South Mountain!"

"Rain?"

Wu Minggao glanced outside. It didn't seem to have rained in town, so it must have been a mountain shower. He continued writing and asked casually.

"What sort of strange thing?"

"Uncle, listen. My friends and I had only just gone up the mountain when it suddenly started raining. Then we met a scholar who took us to a tea stall. The tea had such a refreshing fragrance, it seeped right into the heart. I think it was called Pine Mist..."

The young man calling Wu Minggao "Uncle" was none other than Chu Hang. As his story continued, Wu Minggao gradually stopped writing.

"Then someone shook us awake, and we discovered that both the tea stall and the old man were gone. There was nothing but deserted mountains all around us, and only the scholar was still there! We were rather frightened, so we invited him to come down the mountain with us, but he just smiled and wouldn't come. Luckily, I was quick enough to realize he couldn't be human either!"

Wu Minggao looked at his nephew with an unreadable expression.

"You truly encountered such a mysterious thing? Or have a few years studying away from home taught you to make sport of your uncle?"

"Oh, Uncle, I wouldn't dare! Right, that scholar said his name was Yi Shuyuan and that he was from Yuanjiang County too, but that must have been something he said to set us at ease. He laughed and chatted with that old man, tasting tea and discussing poetry, even talking about everyday family matters. How could he be human? Wait! Could it be because..."

Chu Hang suddenly cried out in alarm. This incident had stirred up something that had troubled him in childhood, and he felt certain he'd attracted some evil spirit. The more he thought about it, the more frightening it seemed, until he could hardly settle his mind.

By now, Wu Minggao was lost in thought, waves rising in his heart. Yet seeing his nephew's anxious state, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Seeing the odd expression on his uncle's face, Chu Hang thought he wasn't believed and hurried to speak.

"Uncle, I really haven't lied to you. Even if I dared lie to anyone else, I'd never dare lie to you!"

"Heh, I know you haven't lied. Hmm, come with me."

With that, Wu Minggao left his desk and walked outside. Chu Hang had no idea why, but followed him nonetheless. They crossed courtyards and passed through corridors within the County Office, receiving respectful greetings from several bailiffs and clerks along the way.

Soon, they arrived at the Library.

Wu Minggao knocked first. When no response came from inside, he gently pushed open the door and entered. Sure enough, Yi Shuyuan wasn't there.

"So Mr. Yi really did go to Broad South Mountain..."

"Uncle, what are you muttering about?"

With a smile on his face, Wu Minggao sighed, shook his head, and turned to Chu Hang.

"The scholar you met wasn't some mountain spirit. He's a gentleman helping compile this county's County Gazetteer-Mr. Yi Shuyuan himself!"

Wu Minggao deliberately avoided calling Yi Shuyuan a clerk, instead using various other terms to describe his work. Chu Hang was stunned by his words.

"Huh? Is... is that really true?"

"Would I lie to you? You've been away and don't know what's been happening here. This Mr. Yi is an extraordinary man. Those eyes of his can see ghosts and gods. If the man you met in the mountains really was him, then that mysterious affair at the tea stall must have been real."

Chu Hang's expression turned strange. A man who could see ghosts and gods?

"Wait, Uncle, why does it still sound like you don't believe me? Is some outsider more believable than-"

Chu Hang's words died in his throat. His eyes widened as he stared toward a corridor, where Yi Shuyuan was slowly approaching.

"U-Uncle, that's him! He's the scholar!"

Ignoring his nephew's fuss, Wu Minggao smiled and cupped his hands toward Yi Shuyuan.

"Have you just returned from Broad South Mountain, Mr. Yi?"

Yi Shuyuan cupped his hands in return as he walked. Seeing Chu Hang like this, he couldn't help smiling.

"Indeed, I've just come back from the mountain. Brother Chu, we meet again! Well, I'm neither a mountain ghost nor a monster, hahaha!"

"Uh, Brother Yi... uh, heh, hahaha..."

Chu Hang finally caught on. How could he fail to realize he'd made a tremendous blunder? Embarrassed as he was, he couldn't help laughing along, and a great weight lifted from his heart.