"Shi'an, did your master build these stone steps?"
"They were probably built when my grandmaster was young. Master said Grandmaster carried these bluestone steps up the mountain one by one back then."
"...Incredible!"
"Yes. I suppose I'm enjoying the shade of trees planted by those who came before me."
"You must have swept them, Shi'an. There isn't even a fallen leaf on these steps."
"Yes, I swept the whole way when I came back a few days ago."
While Chen Shi'an and Lin Ming chatted, the girl on his back stayed silent, like a backpack.
If he hadn't occasionally seen his daughter turn her head, her father would have thought she had passed out.
The three passed through the dilapidated mountain gate together. After they climbed the last straight flight of stone steps, their destination, Pure Dust Temple, finally appeared before father and daughter at the top.
"We're here."
Chen Shi'an gently set Lin Meng Qiu down from his back.
Her legs were still a little weak when her feet touched the ground. She hurriedly held his arm to steady herself, then lowered her flushed face and brushed nonexistent dust from the hem of her clothes.
Looking up, she saw Pure Dust Temple resting quietly amid the lush green mountains, with its gray walls and blue-gray roof tiles. The bells at the corners of its eaves gave delicate chimes in the breeze passing through the woods, and an air of profound antiquity washed over her.
Pure Dust Temple had passed down through a single line of successors for generations. It had never grown, yet its halls had remained standing and its incense had never gone out. Life there was more secular than that of renunciant Taoists: they supported themselves and observed no dietary restrictions except during ritual ceremonies, living