As Xu Jin talked, his voice grew softer and softer. He set his bowl aside and actually fell asleep, his grizzled beard gently rising and falling with his breath.
Fortunately, he had a thick bed of dry grass beneath him. Sleeping on bare rock all night would have left him aching all over the next morning.
The Yin Spirit returned to its body. Black Snake poked his head through the Thatched Hut's window, picked up the quilt from the bed in his jaws, and gently withdrew, then draped it over Xu Jin. He had meant to carry the old man back inside, but thought better of it. Best not to poison him to death.
Xiao Yu flew back to her own little hill, while Black Snake remained in the small valley.
After gazing at the hazy stars for a while, he turned his attention to the little waterfall that flowed day and night. It was not that he had sensed anything mystical about it; its stream merely seemed a little thinner and weaker than before.
Bored, Black Snake began to think.
Comparing this year's rainfall with previous years, there seemed to have been a day or two less rain. Then he recalled his fishing trips every early spring. The River seemed to have grown much tamer. He suspected the water was dwindling at an exceedingly slow pace.
Black Snake did not know why this was happening, because He Ning had never taught him about such things.
Never mind. Best to ignore it.
Tonight, the full moon hung low on the horizon. He wound his way down to the River to catch fish.
He paused briefly on the riverbank, flicking his tongue as he carefully distinguished the scents carried on the river breeze.
He slipped silently into the River, feeling the