Green mountains stretched into the distance along the banks of the Wuxi River.
The old tree at the entrance to town was still there.
Had the roads in Shiliang Town grown a little wider?
Song Yan walked slowly through the market, wearing a bamboo hat and coarse hemp clothing, looking every inch a martial wanderer.
Shiliang had never lacked such martial artists passing through, so he naturally attracted little attention.
He found a seat outside a teahouse.
"Waiter, some tea."
"Coming right up!"
The young waiter who brewed his tea was quite unfamiliar to Song Yan, perhaps a new hand hired in recent years.
Inside the teahouse, a storyteller was telling a tale he had never heard before.
The townsfolk around him, drinking tea and listening to the story, occasionally chatted about matters in town.
Constable Ling had been transferred to the Six Gates in the capital-a proper promotion.
The sole son of Old Xu's family had finally passed the imperial examinations; the Meng family's daughter had been taken to an immortal mountain by Attendant Zhao to seek immortality and pursue the Dao.
The former county magistrate had also been transferred elsewhere, and the staff of Shiliang Town's county office had now been replaced from top to bottom.
Song Yan did not intend to visit everyone in turn.
The townsfolk lived peaceful, tranquil lives. There was no need to disturb them.
He would offer incense at his grandfather's grave, then get back on the road early.
Setting down his tea bowl and leaving some bits of silver, Song Yan passed through Lantern Market Street and headed up into the green mountains.
Among the mountains.
At the sight of the familiar thatched cottage, Song Yan stopped.
The cottage's roof seemed to have been patched anew, but its old wooden door looked