Fine trees flourished, their colorful blossoms shining together.
The setting sun rested against the mountains, its fiery crimson glow painting the entire forest gold and red, vivid and beautiful.
At those words, the short, stout woodcutter laughed and shook his head. He waded unevenly through the knee-deep weeds, tossed aside his short axe, and settled contentedly against a great stone as smooth as a mirror, narrowing his eyes.
"After failing to persuade your own lord, you actually went from place to place until you found your way to this old Daoist? What trouble you've taken. I do pity your painstaking efforts!"
He pointed at the short axe lying quietly at his feet and said:
"How about this? Three miles east, a strange tree shaped like a snake grows in a valley. Take this axe and cut it down, and this calamity will be easily resolved."
"Lord Tong Xuan, you're teasing me again. How could I possibly lift your weapon? Besides, I fear this Daoist brother would be unwilling to let me touch his treasured body."
Nearby, only a helpless, bitter chuckle sounded.
"That makes it difficult, then. Wait. If this Chen Heng can endure nine bolts of Little Pure Yang Thunder and survive the Heavenly Lord's tribulation of punishment, I'll lend him a small hand."
The short, stout woodcutter took off his bamboo-leaf hat and fanned his face with it, saying:
"Of course, if he cannot, everything ends there."
"Lord Tong Xuan-"
"You're young and know nothing of worldly ways. Repaying a drop of kindness with a gushing spring is all well and good, but you cannot apply that to everything. Circumstances must still count for something. Throughout the Nine Provinces and Four Seas, who has enough standing to ask this old Daoist to act even once?
"If not for