The instant the thought arose in Chen Wei's mind, the bluestone table and the inexhaustible tea rippled like reflections in water, then shattered into fragments.
The scenery around them shifted.
When Chen Wei's feet found solid ground again, the clear cries of cranes on Longevity Mountain returned to his ears.
"Dad, we're back." Chen Xiang glanced around.
Father and son stood safely before the gates of Wuzhuang Temple. Chen Wei's hand was even still poised to strike the door knocker, as though everything they had experienced had merely been a vivid dream.
But it had not been a dream.
Chen Xiang's vicious impulses had indeed vanished, and his divine soul could not have been more stable.
Such was the power of a mighty being: clouds with an upturned palm, rain with a downward turn.
"Stay close to me!" Chen Wei collected himself and put away the visiting card. Now that they had pierced the paper covering the window and even shown their hidden cards, the visiting card was nothing but wastepaper.
He reached out, grasped the brass beast-shaped knocker, and knocked three times, neither too hard nor too softly.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound echoed along the mountain path.
A moment later.
The gates slowly swung inward.
Holding Chen Xiang's hand, Chen Wei stepped over the high threshold. Inside, no welcoming party stood in formation.
Before them lay only a winding bluestone mountain path.
It was immensely long, stretching up the main peak of Longevity Mountain, its end nowhere in sight.
Towering ancient cypresses lined both sides. In the distance, they could vaguely make out the upturned eaves of Wuzhuang Temple's main hall.
Chen Wei looked up at the seemingly endless path, his mind clear as a mirror.
In this world, there was certainly no such thing as a free