Black Snake crossed the mossy steps and stood beneath the old pine's shade, looking up at the words "Azure Cloud Monastery." After five hundred years of life, Black Snake felt it was high time to have a name. Names had never seemed important before. The stones beside the well had no names, nor did the trees nearby.
But a creature with intelligence ought to have a name of its own.
Without even a name, dying one day would be like never having come into this world at all. There had to be a name to prove that existence.
In five hundred years, Black Snake had never encountered a similar creature. Besides, Black Snake probably no longer counted as a snake. According to myths and legends, perhaps a python, or perhaps a boa.
Black Snake wanted to work out which, but had no one even to discuss it with.
What kind of creature Black Snake was remained unclear. Well, that did not matter. What mattered was being alive.
Clutching the books, Black Snake thought hard.
After a long bout of serious pondering, Black Snake suddenly realized that choosing a name was not so easy.
It was quite troubling.
There was no choice but to admit a complete lack of skill in literary matters.
Better to set it aside for now and wait a little longer.
The sunlight was just right. Plentiful rain over the past few days had sent the grass growing wild. Several elderly Daoists bent over the vegetable patch, pulling weeds. Deer had nibbled through a stretch of cultivated land, leaving neat rows of seedlings shorn of their tops and a jumble of hoofprints in the mud.
Holding the books, Black Snake slipped silently past, using tree trunks and large stones for cover. Just as an elderly Daoist straightened