Black Snake heard muttering every day.
He could not understand a word.
He could make out a few sounds in the village children's speech, but the old man's chanting was like swarms of mosquitoes along the river in summer. That made him care even less. Let him be.
Gradually, the old man began craning his neck to look around. Later, he actually started reading aloud toward Giant Rock.
Black Snake remained indifferent, treating it like the croaking of wood frogs in the valley in spring.
Time passed quickly. Amid the bursts of incomprehensible muttering, the leaves on the hillside slowly unfurled, looking different almost every day, until they screened the two from each other's sight.
In fact, Black Snake could still see him clearly through thermal sensing. He simply could not be bothered to pay attention.
One fogless morning.
Who knew what the old man had been pondering overnight? With a book tucked against him, he hesitantly stepped outside.
Coiled on the rock, Black Snake sensed approaching vibrations, caught the old man's scent, and saw a slowly moving heat source through his thermal sensing.
He habitually switched to thermal sensing to examine him.
He confirmed that it was an ordinary human.
Once he had gathered the information, he stopped paying attention and lazily basked in the sun, letting the old man approach on trembling legs.
Through thermal sensing, he saw the man's temperature rise slightly and his heart pound.
The little spring breeze in the mountains felt wonderfully pleasant and carried the scent of chipmunks. Of course, it also brought that strange smell that had been festering on the old man for days. All those days of airing himself in the sun had been wasted.
The old man inched forward, eyes fixed on Black Snake, ready to turn and flee for his life at any moment. He kept chanting under his breath, growing increasingly worked up.
He forced himself to endure his fear and edged closer. A stone tripped him midway, but he quickly steadied himself.
By the time his trembling hand finally touched Giant Rock, he was exhausted, his mouth and throat parched.
He raised his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his face.
His heart held both fear and joy, as though he had completed some profound elevation of himself.
Summoning his courage, he climbed onto the rock, striving to maintain a dignified appearance. In truth, he was scared to death, and his hands would not stop shaking.
Looking at the motionless, coiled behemoth before him, he could not help crying out.
"Good! Wonderful!"
The noise made Black Snake turn his head slightly and glance at him.
The threat level was very low. He treated the man as a piece of wood that could make noises and lazily turned his head back.
The old man tried to steady his breathing and carefully studied the enormous black snake. Then he sat cross-legged, opened his book, and read aloud in a calm tone he struggled to maintain. At first, he nervously watched out of the corner of his eye, but eventually he simply lowered his head and concentrated on reciting the scripture.
Black Snake felt that the old man was being somewhat presumptuous. It was bad enough that he would not stay in his own nest to make his noises; now he had come right before him to prattle.
Never mind. Let him be.
He gazed blankly at the blurred outlines of the distant mountains.
Suddenly, a clamor of voices rose from the valley floor. Looking down, he saw the village men, women, old folk, and children carrying incense, candles, and offerings toward the little stone temple. Several hunting dogs darted through the crowd, their barking startling birds from the woods.
They hung red cords, laid out fresh fish and coarse-grain cakes, and reverently offered incense.
The process was much like what he had seen before. There were not many strict rules in the mountains, and the atmosphere was more like a rare gathering.
The women laughed and teased the hot-blooded young men. The old men sat on stones puffing their tobacco pipes, squinting at the lush mountain forests. Children raced about, and dogs plunged into the grass after wild mice. The valley filled with cheerful voices and the scent of burning incense.
Wisps of blue smoke drifted up the mountain.
Black Snake watched curiously. Beside him, the old man also stopped muttering and coldly surveyed the bustle below, his mouth curling with disdain.
"Hmph! Ignorant mountain peasants, worshipping false gods with wicked rites."
With a contemptuous grunt, he turned a page of the scripture in his hands and resumed reading, never considering whether the Snake Immortal Temple had anything to do with the great black snake on this mountain.
Black Snake glanced at the old man, unaware that he himself was the object of those "wicked rites" the man had just condemned.
After paying their respects, the villagers left the valley one after another.
The valley returned to its usual silence, with only a faint scent of incense lingering.
The old man beside him suddenly stopped after muttering for a long time. He seemed less afraid now, stroking his beard as he said with a smile.
"Heh, heh. After days of cleansing with scripture, this wild beast's ferocity has finally been washed away."
His tone held a trace of pride in his achievement as a teacher.
He was certain that his days of recitation had made the great snake docile.
Black Snake quietly enjoyed the sunshine.
The old man stood and waved his hands, directing Black Snake to move.
"Look at my hand. Raise your head."
"Turn around. Why aren't you moving? Look at me. Look over here. Raise your head."
Black Snake flicked his tongue, unable to understand what the man was doing.
For some reason, the old man moved a few steps closer and raised a hand, intending to touch Black Snake's head.
With two steps still separating them, he was forced to halt. Black Snake lifted his head, his towering posture carrying a warning. If the man came any closer, he would not mind wasting a little venom. Though he did not care about harmless beasts and insects nearby, that did not mean they could make dangerous moves.
Seeing this, the old man awkwardly withdrew his hand. Yet the excitement in his eyes did not fade, and he muttered a few words to himself to give himself a way to save face.
Black Snake paid him no mind. The rock was big enough anyway. If he liked staying there, he could stay, so long as he did nothing dangerous.
A short while later, Black Snake set off toward the higher peaks.
He could already sense the subtle signs of approaching rain. He needed to reach the summit before the thunderstorm arrived. He could not miss it; even over an entire year, he would only encounter lightning a handful of times.
Watching the dark shape disappear up above, the old man felt an unsatisfied sense of loss. Eager to prove the power of his teachings, he returned dejectedly to the little courtyard and recited again and again, his mind full of thoughts.
Thunder suddenly struck.
The dazzling lightning and thunder erupted almost simultaneously, making the old man's ears ring. He nearly lost his grip on the scripture.
Only half a room in the little courtyard was barely habitable, and that was where the old man lodged. The other buildings were still covered in vines, while the tall alchemy furnace lay buried in weeds. Wind and rain had long since worn away the old soot marks on the walls.
The room was piled with clutter, and stiff old bedding lay on the wooden bed.
Outside, rain rattled against the forest leaves.
The roof leaked, so he caught the water in a battered wooden bucket. The only dry spot that did not leak was piled with scriptures.
Outside the window was a white blur. The old man, who believed he possessed the power to reform others, hoped the rain would stop soon.
His mind was filled with thoughts of how to reform birds and beasts. He planned to subdue fierce animals and make them his guardians. How imposing he would be when he traveled then, an honored guest wherever he went.
He waited day after day.
The rain stopped, and sunlight spilled through the clouds. Before the old man could rejoice, the sunshine swiftly withdrew and rain fell again. These repeated shifts between sudden sunshine and renewed rain tormented him.
At last, one morning, melodious birdsong sounded outside beneath a clear blue sky.
Black Snake returned to the mountainside with faint electrical arcs flickering around him.
He noticed the old
man standing beside a nearby pile of stones, talking to the ground. Looking closely, he saw a viper among the dead leaves. Black Snake found this difficult to understand. He did not know why the man was making noises at a viper.
His slit pupils watched curiously. This kind of snake had potent venom, and the old man certainly had no shortage of courage.
After muttering for a while, the man smiled, bent down, and reached out to touch the viper's head...
This human was indeed very brave.
The old man suddenly recoiled, clutching his wrist tightly with his other hand. He scrambled backward, shouting incoherently, then ran in a panic toward the little courtyard. After only a few steps, he turned and rushed downhill instead.
Before he reached the valley floor, he tripped and pitched forward, rolling several times down the slope.
He lay on the hillside, screaming desperately.
He struggled to climb to his feet, but before he had gone far, he suddenly vomited. His steps were weak and unsteady, and he could barely remain standing.
Black Snake knew his new neighbor was going to die. He found this kind of self-destructive behavior difficult to understand.