Chapter 35: Welcomed Along the Path

Pan Yun said nothing; though she admitted that Xuanmiao and Tao Ji were both stronger than her, she didn't think either could be her master—mutual practice among fellow disciples was plenty, and she knew many things she could teach them.

Traveling east from Guangxin Prefecture, they rode their mule cart for two days, entering Yushan County; from here, they didn't need to pass through the county town, but could follow the mountain path for half a day to reach Mount Sanqing.

At the foot of Mount Sanqing lay a village; Tao Ji introduced it to her, "This is Fen Shui Village. The cart can't go up the mountain—we'll leave it with a local."

The village was sizable, built along the mountainside beside the river; Pan Yun could see the human presence stretching for miles downstream along the water.

As soon as the cart entered the village, people warmly greeted Tao Ji and Xuanmiao—especially Tao Ji, with children clustering around him, calling him "Tao Daoist," "Tao Immortal Master," and "Uncle Tao."

Tao Ji pulled out a cloth sack from his robe and scooped out a handful of candies wrapped in translucent rice paper.

The children cheered, bouncing and skipping around the cart as they followed.

Tao Ji walked while handing out candy; by the time he finished one sack, they'd only crossed half the village, but the children called their friends, bringing even more kids.

Tao Ji laughed heartily, unconcerned, reached onto the cart, and pulled out another cloth sack of candy, continuing to distribute it along the way.

Pan Yun sat quietly watching, while Xuanmiao's face softened with a smile.

She turned and saw Pan Yun staring blankly at Tao Ji's cloth sack, so she reached out to him.

Tao Ji's eyes lit up, and he grabbed a large handful and placed it in his junior sister's palm.

Children immediately gathered around Xuanmiao.

Xuanmiao picked out three candies and handed them to Pan Yun.

Pan Yun looked down at the candies in her hand, paused, then took them, watching as Xuanmiao distributed the rest to the other children.

Ahead lay a bridge crossing the river; Tao Ji waved to the children, warning them to stay behind, fearing they might fall in.

Beyond the bridge lay the mountain's base, where houses grew sparse; a mountain path wound through the trees, and after walking a stretch, they saw a small house built partly of stone and partly of earth.

Beside the house stood a thatched shed, with a bamboo pole hoisting a cloth banner above it; one side bore a large character: "Tea." When the wind blew, it flipped, revealing the other side: "Food."

As if sensing guests had arrived, a gentle breeze stirred in the still mountain air, lifting the banner and making it drift slowly, occasionally bumping and shifting the bamboo pole.

A door nearby opened, and an old man stepped out; seeing the cart, he grinned, his wrinkles folding together, and called out loudly, "Ah! Tao boy and Xuanmiao are back! Wait a moment—I'll brew tea for you."

He hurried toward the tea shed; though aged, his movements were swift and nimble.

As he added water and stoked the fire, he leaned out and shouted toward the children, "Xiaojing! Xiaojing, come light the fire!"

From the back of the crowd, a tall, lanky boy responded, pushing through and stepping forward.

The old man slapped his shoulder. "You're twelve already—why still playing with children? Time to start helping."

Wang Xiaojing wiped sweat from his face and replied offhandedly, "Alright, Great-Grandpa."

Tao Ji had parked the cart and walked over, hearing this; he laughed heartily. "Wang Weng, Xiaojing's still a child—let him play if he wants."

He dragged over a long bench and sat by the roadside, waiting for new children to come for candy.

Children who'd already received candy didn't leave or reach out—they clustered around him, asking where he'd been this time and what was fun.

Tao Ji spoke enthusiastically, "This time I went to Beijingcheng."

"Wow—" the children gasped, pressing him with questions: "Is Beijingcheng big? Bigger than Nanjingcheng?"

The children's admiration delighted Tao Ji; he pulled them close and described how vast and bustling Beijingcheng was, how to find safe, cheap inns, which streets sold what goods…

The children chimed in with "Wow!" and other exclamations to encourage him; Tao Ji grew even more animated and detailed.

Wang Weng smiled broadly and turned to fetch tea leaves.

Pan Yun sat on the other side of the cart, glanced at the candy in her hand, peeled it open, and put it in her mouth.

It was malt sugar—golden yellow, sweet and sticky—just like the taste she'd known in both lives.

The sweetness seemed to seep into her heart; Tao Ji's endless chatter no longer felt irritating.

When the water boiled, Wang Weng poured tea first for Tao Ji, then brought a bowl to Xuanmiao, who hurriedly stepped down from the cart to receive it.

Pan Yun turned her head; only then did Wang Weng notice another child on the other side of the cart—he'd been completely hidden by the cargo.

Wang Weng exclaimed, "Ah!" Seeing her dressed in a green Daoist robe much like Xuanmiao's, he beamed. "There's another little Daoist here—wait a moment, I'll make you a bowl of noodles."

Xuanmiao quickly refused, "We'll be going up the mountain after tea."

"That's right," Tao Ji stood up, holding his tea, smiling. "Wang Weng, we've brought back too much to carry all at once—leave it with you for now. We'll come back for it when we have time."

"Also, leave the cart and mule with you. If anyone in the village needs them, let them use them—just feed the mule for us."

Wang Weng agreed, called his great-grandson to help unload, and went to make noodles.

Tao Ji quickly stopped him. "Really, no need—we've eaten on the road."

"That's for you adults," Wang Weng brushed off his hand. "You may not be hungry, but can the child go without? There's still a long mountain path ahead—you can endure, but don't make the child suffer. Go unload your things—I'll cook the noodles." He scooped flour and began kneading dough.

Pan Yun silently ate her candy and watched.

Wang Weng claimed he'd make noodles only for Pan Yun, yet kneaded a large bowl of dough, eventually pulling out three bowls—luckily, the water kept boiling, so he could drop them in immediately.

The children helped Tao Ji and the others unload, sniffing the aroma, swallowing saliva repeatedly.

The children were curious about Pan Yun and had long wanted to approach and play, but seeing her sit beside Xuanmiao, cold and distant like her, they dared not.

Now, seeing her helping with the unloading, they jostled each other until finally Wang Xiaojing was pushed forward.

He hugged a cloth sack full of herbs and grinned foolishly at Pan Yun. "Sister, are you going up the mountain to become a Daoist too?"

Pan Yun nodded. "Yes. Are you familiar with the mountain?"

Wang Xiaojing: "Pretty familiar—I've climbed it a few times with my dad. Your mountain… is pretty cool. Oh, our apricots are ripe—I'll pick a basket for you and ask you to bring them to Miaohé."

Before Pan Yun could ask who Miaohé was, he shoved the cloth sack into her arms and leapt away. "I'll go pick them now—wait for me!"

!. Read

Wang Xiaojing called to his friends, grabbed two bamboo baskets with seven or eight older boys, and sprinted off.

Pan Yun: …

Tao Ji passed by, sniffed the air, and pulled the sack from her arms. "So that's where it went—I couldn't find it. You're taking this up the mountain?"

He borrowed two large bamboo baskets and one small one from Wang Weng, selected the most urgent items, packed them in, and stored the rest in a small room at the Wangs' house.

The room seemed meant for storing odds and ends—stones propped up wooden planks about a palm's height above the ground, keeping things dry and cool, preserving them longer.

Tao Ji arranged the items neatly and, seeing Pan Yun looking around, explained, "This is where Wang Weng stores tea and rice flour; our monastery often borrows this room to keep things. If you ever leave the mountain or return later and can't carry everything, you can leave it here."

Pan Yun noted it down.

When all the items were put away, Tao Ji handed her the small bamboo basket. "This is what you'll carry. Put your luggage in it too—the mountain path is rough; carrying a basket is easier."

Wang Weng called them over to eat noodles, and only when they were about to leave did Wang Xiaojing and the others rush up carrying bamboo baskets.

Tao Ji's head spun at the sight of so many apricots mixed with fresh leaves—so many! Did he really have to carry all of them up the mountain?

He wanted to refuse, but then he thought of Master Xuanmiao's round, plump little face and those bright, sparkling eyes, and he couldn't bring himself to say no.

Master Xuanmiao said, "Leave them with me."

Tao Ji said, "No, I'll take them."

He shoved a roll of cloth firmly into Master Xuanmiao's basket, made space, then dug out a large cloth sack and packed all the apricots inside.

Wang Xiaojing didn't care at all about his family's apricot tree—he must've picked dozens. Tao Ji filled one sack and still had plenty left; he lifted it, weighed it in his hand—it weighed at least twenty catties.

Tao Ji resignedly placed the sack into the basket.

The basket bulged noticeably; he tied it with rope in a net pattern to secure everything inside so nothing would fall out.

Tao Ji stood up, carrying the basket, and waved. "Let's go."

Pan Yun gave him a sympathetic look and slung her own small basket onto her back.

The children followed them warmly for a stretch, but were sent back down the mountain by Tao Ji when the path ahead grew narrower.

He promised he'd come down with candy to see them soon.

The children ran off laughing and chattering.

Wang Xiaojing ran back to his family's tea stall and, while helping his great-grandfather collect bowls, noticed money beside Pan Yun's and Master Xuanmiao's bowls.

He snatched it up. "Great-grandpa, look."

Wang Weng exclaimed, "Oh dear, why is Master Xuanmiao still so polite?"

"And that little girl—there was money beside her bowl too."

Wang Weng muttered under his breath, "She's just like Master Xuanmiao in temperament. Oh dear, they paid for three bowls of noodles—we've taken advantage of them. Xiaojing, write this down: when they come down again, you must cook them three bowls in return."

Wang Xiaojing agreed.

Wang Weng still favored Tao Ji the most—he never paid for food or drink, was close to him, and never treated him like a stranger.

Wang Xiaojing: "If they refuse, I'll just give Moreh a little extra noodles—cook two bowls as one."

Wang Weng: "... Don't keep overfeeding Moreh. What if you ruin her stomach?"

"No way—her medical skills are excellent. How could she hurt herself by eating?"

Today's lucky number is still any number ending in 1—screenshot as proof.

(End of Chapter)