Chapter 612: Chapter 612

“The weather is getting colder and colder.”

“Shall we bring an extra quilt for you, sir?”

“That won't be necessary.”

“It’s not even the coldest yet. At least the daytime is still warm. The real cold will come in a month or two. By then, the mountaintops behind us will be covered in snow,” the innkeeper said to Song You. “And just at that time, oddly enough, the cherry blossoms around the city and countryside will start blooming. Some roses will bloom too. That’s when people often speak of ‘wind, flowers, snow, and moon’[1], and right here, you can see them all.”

“Then I must see it for myself before I leave.”

Song You sat in the main hall, smiling and chatting casually with the innkeeper.

Just then, someone entered from outside.

A little girl, a bit taller than half a person, came in with a bulging and damp pouch slung over her left shoulder. She was holding a fishing rod in her left hand and a stalk of sugarcane in her right, gnawing on it as she walked.

At least she knew the city streets were paved with stone bricks and didn’t spit the sugarcane pulp on the ground, instead holding it all in her hand.

“I’m back from fishing.”

“Oh, you’re back!” The innkeeper quickly got up to welcome her.

Song You, curious, asked, “Where did you get another piece of sugarcane?”

“I traded for it again.”

“Truly resourceful, aren’t you?”

Lady Calico didn’t say much. As usual, she weighed the fish and sold them to the innkeeper, gave him one as payment for using the kitchen firewood, kept one for herself, and asked the Daoist to cook it.

The Daoist didn’t slack off. After all, the main provider of the household had spent the whole day out working and even brought food back. All he had to do was cook a meal. How could he complain?

So he picked up the fish and went into the kitchen. Soon, the crisp sounds of fish being efficiently cleaned could be heard.

The innkeeper stayed to watch from behind.

The Daoist turned and smiled at him, chatting as he worked, “The way Xianning cooks fish reminds me of something from over ten years ago, when we were traveling through Xuzhou. We passed by a mountain village and stayed with a farming family. To host us, they caught two fish from a pond by the door and cooked them with pickled sour plums. Quite an interesting flavor.”

“That’s just what poor folks do. They have no fine ingredients, so they throw in some sour things to make the food go down easier.”

“Funny, that farmer said the exact same thing at the time.”

“Sir, do you remember something from over ten years ago that clearly?” The innkeeper glanced quietly at Song You. This Daoist looked young, and judging by appearance alone, he would’ve still been just a youth back then.

“It left a strong impression.”

“When you said ‘we,’ sir... does that include your cat?”

“Why test me, sir?” Song You still smiled as he added oil to the pan.

The petite little girl crouched by the stove, tending the fire. She held out both hands, fingers spread, close to the stove’s opening, fully focused on warming herself, as if she had no interest at all in their conversation.

“I wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare...” The innkeeper quickly lowered his head, not daring to speak further.

“I enjoy sour dishes, and I like pickled vegetables. In Yizhou, where I’m from, people tend to have a taste for sour things too. But our sour flavors usually come from vinegar or pickled vegetables, unlike here, where they're often from sour fruits,” Song You said, then paused for a moment. “In my opinion, though, if you could add a bit of heat to a sour dish, it would be even better.”

“Do you mean Cornelian cherries or ginger?”

The innkeeper, a man with a passion for culinary exploration, was quickly drawn in with interest.

“Cornelian cherries are good, ginger is good, too, But there’s something even better. Perhaps it hasn’t yet reached this region,” Song You said as he picked up a chili pepper and handed it to the innkeeper. “A gift for you. It has seeds. Once the weather warms up a bit, you can plant it. It sprouts easily in slightly damp, shallow soil. The fruit is called chili pepper. It's already very popular in many regions and is excellent for cooking. They’re good fresh or dried.”

“I think I’ve heard of it before...”

“Today we’ll try it with your sour fish.”

As he spoke, Song You continued working without pause.

While cooking, he chatted and explained things to the innkeeper. He was, in fact, deliberately teaching him. This was a way of returning the kindness.

These were insights gained from years of cooking experience. In this era where the iron wok had only recently become widespread and stir-frying was still a new invention, especially in this remote region of Yunzhou, even simple and common knowledge was considered precious. Even someone like the innkeeper, who loved to study the culinary arts, was still largely working behind closed doors based on trial and error.

Meanwhile, Lady Calico, while tending the fire, also perked up her ears to listen. She often stood up to peek into the pot.

Whenever she heard a new technique, she quietly memorized it. Before long, a pot of hot and sour fish was ready.

They had still used the stewed sour plum fruits, but with the addition of chili peppers, the broth had turned from a pale yellowish-white to a bright, glossy red, which was far more appetizing. The fish floated in the broth, its white flesh tinged with red, looking delicious.

A sprig of cilantro added as garnish made it nearly perfect.

“I’ll save a bowl for the innkeeper and let him try it. If he likes it, he can serve it to his guests in the future,” Song You said with a smile. As usual, he left a bowl for the innkeeper and poured the rest into a basin to carry upstairs.

The innkeeper, of course, thanked him repeatedly.

Soon after, the Daoist had already returned to his room, and the same oil lamp lit half the room.

He picked up pieces of fish with bits of chili and broth with his chopsticks and mixed it into his rice before he brought it to his mouth. The sour-spicy flavor awakened his appetite, and it tasted fresh and rich.

On the table beside him stood a cat and a swallow.

Before the cat was a bowl of fish-broth-soaked rice. Before the swallow, a plate with finely shredded fish meat.

“How did you trade for the sugarcane?”

“After I finished fighting the monk, I rode the golden Mountain God back. That little boy saw me,” the cat, standing on the table, paused for a moment and then corrected itself, “I saw that little boy, so I had the golden Mountain God give him a ride in exchange for the sugarcane.”

“I beat that monk today!”

“These past few days, rumors have been spreading around here. People say a Mountain God has been regularly battling a demon monk in the wastelands. Lady Calico, you’ve already become the hottest topic in Xianning over tea and meals.”

“But I still didn’t kill that monk,” said the calico cat seriously, not the least bit proud from the praise. “That monk is really powerful. No matter how I fight, I just can’t kill him. Even with the golden Mountain God helping, he still won’t die. It slammed him into the ground and he still didn’t break or die.”

“I see...” Song You paused with his chopsticks in hand, then said, “That Headless Monk was already unusual in life. After death, he turned into a demon spirit out of sheer obsession. He refuses to accept that he’s dead. With the cultivation he had while alive, even if someone tells him his head is gone, he can still kill them, deceiving others and himself. Lady Calico, you might try not just defeating him physically, but telling him again and again that his head is no longer on his shoulders.”

“Would that really work?”

“You will have to think of a way to make him believe it,” Song You replied with a smile. “You’re remarkably clever, I'm sure this won’t stump you.”

“Hmm...” The cat stuck out its tongue and licked its mouth, falling into thought.

Beside it, the swallow picked up a fish eye from the plate, tilted its head back, and swallowed it whole.

“We eat fish every day, and we’re starting to get sick of it. In a few days, let’s go to the market and buy some other meat.”

“Sick of it? How can you be sick of it?”

“Eat too much of anything and you get tired of it.”

“Tasty things still need variety.”

“Then why don’t you get tired of eating rice?”

“How is it different?”

...” Song You shook his head helplessly. “Lady Calico, hurry and eat before the fish soup gets cold, or it’ll start to taste fishy.”

“It tastes better when it’s fishy!”

“How is it different?”

The cat frowned, feeling this was a real dilemma. Fish was delicious and free. How could anyone get tired of it?

The following afternoon...

Just as Song You returned from outside, Lady Chai came to visit.

Though Great Yan was a relatively open-minded place, and although Song You was a Daoist and Lady Chai had brought a maid with her, it still wasn’t appropriate for them to meet inside a private room. So they sat downstairs in the inn, where Song You ordered a pot of tea.

“Many thanks, sir. The method you suggested truly worked. Even when the chicken broth was left out for quite a while, as long as that layer of fat on top wasn’t disturbed, it stayed piping hot. Before adding the rice vermicelli, I placed in some dried bamboo fungus, egg, and thin slices of meat, and it turned out delicious. Not only did my husband love it, but even the men in our family, my uncles and brothers alike, enjoyed it very much.” Lady Chai offered her thanks with enthusiasm.

“It was no trouble at all.”

“I also came today to tell you, sir, that I’ve inquired on your behalf about the place you wanted to go.”

She paused briefly, then said, “The place you're looking for is in a commandery called Bu Commandery, and the specific county is called Luchuan. Luchuan is all mountainous, inhabited by highland people. While there is a county office and county magistrate, affairs are mostly handled by the locals themselves.

“Still, although Bu Commandery and Luchuan are remote, they are proper administrative regions, so finding them isn't too difficult. If one doesn’t know the exact way, once in Bu Commandery, you’ll see the Red River. Just follow it downstream, and you’ll reach Luchuan.”

“Bu Commandery, Luchuan.” Song You nodded and committed it to memory.

“Once you arrive in Luchuan, head south out of town along the official road. After traveling about 80 li, that’s up to the sixteenth earthen rounds. I think that’s what it’s called...”

“Earthen mounds,” Song You corrected gently.

“Yes, the sixteenth earthen mounds. Near it, there’s a small path that leads into the mountains. The mountain road is steep and rugged. Follow it, and look for a place called Bashu. That’s the spot. The area is full of unbroken mountain ranges. The highland people farm up there, and their fields are on the mountainsides, and are extremely steep, like ladders. Bashu is the highest peak. In front of it, there’s a valley, the depth of which no one knows. The locals say that every spring, a dragon rises from that valley or from the clouds behind the mountain.”

It was clear Lady Chai had made thorough inquiries. She likely asked more than one person and had worked hard to memorize it all.

“Also, if you arrive but can’t find the person you’re looking for, you can ask the locals. The area is known for producing red rice, which grows only in the mountain region there. People from the lowlands love it, and it’s even presented as tribute to the palace. There are respected elders in the mountains who handle trade with the lowlanders. Some hermits live in the mountains as well, and they all speak our language.”

“Many thanks, Lady Chai.”

“It is I who should thank you, sir.”

Lady Chai looked at the young-looking Daoist before her, who now seemed even younger than she was, and couldn't help but recall when he once sat at the same table as her parents, having scholarly conversations, while she had timidly stood off to the side. She still regarded him with the same deep respect as if he were an elder.

She continued, “An uncle told me that if you reach Luchuan but can’t find the mountain road, you may go to the largest fabric shop in town, Liu’s Cloth Shop. The owner is his friend, a generous man who greatly respects Daoists and aspires to the path of immortality. If you visit, he’ll surely arrange for someone to escort you up the mountain.”

“I’ll make note of that.”

“Then I won’t disturb you further. I came today because I was afraid I’d forget the details after a few days. My husband said he’s been looking a bit worn lately, but once he feels better, he’ll come personally to pay his respects to you.”

“I’ll be awaiting his honored visit.”

After seeing Lady Chai off, Song You immediately went upstairs and returned to his room.

He took out a sheet of paper and dipped his brush in ink. Seeing that Lady Calico hadn’t yet put away the Classic of Poetry[2] she had copied the night before, he took the opportunity to write everything down. If he didn’t write it down, he wouldn’t remember it himself.

After finishing, he put the paper away, but his interest hadn’t waned, so he pulled out a new sheet and began to draw.

As dusk gradually fell, Lady Calico returned. From downstairs, he could hear her chatting with the innkeeper.

After selling the fish and collecting the money, she finally came back up to the room. She saw the Daoist bent over his desk painting, leaned in for a closer look, and asked curiously, “What are you drawing?”

“Looks pretty realistic.”

“How was your day, Lady Calico?”

At the mention of this, the girl’s expression suddenly became serious. Yet she didn’t rush to answer him. Instead, she put down her pouch, tucked away the copper coins, and with a whoosh, transformed back into her cat form. Then, with ease, she leapt onto the table, as if this form made what she was about to say feel more formal or significant. Only then did she tell him, “I killed him.”

“I had the golden Mountain God hammer him, just like you used to have the great Mountain God hammer the Star Giant. While he was being hammered, I kept telling him that his head wasn’t on his shoulders anymore, that he was already dead. Then I found a stone and told him, ‘This is your head.’ Anyway, he had no eyes, so he couldn’t see.”

The calico cat's tone was flat, without emotion. “At first, I thought it wasn’t working, that I still hadn’t killed him. Later, when the Boulder Transformation stopped working and the Mountain God turned back into stone, the monk got up and tried to run. But he didn’t get far, he fell over and didn’t move again.”

“So... he’s really dead?”

“We went to check. The swallow said he was dead.”

Lady Calico didn’t express much; she explained it all simply. But Song You could picture the scene in his mind.

He imagined the golden stone giant battling the demon monk. The monk, overwhelmed, was unable to rely on his usual trick of killing anyone who told him the truth to continue deceiving himself. Instead, he was forced to hear it over and over again. Even though he managed to escape in the end, when that last bit of strength left him, and he was unable to keep lying to himself, he finally collapsed.

Thinking about it that way... it was almost pitiful.

And yet, recalling how so many passing merchants and travelers had fallen victim to him over the past few years and even centuries ago, he felt conflicted.

“Lady Calico, you’re indeed clever,” Song You said, setting those thoughts aside and addressing the cat. “Congratulations. Now whether it’sBoulder Legion or Boulder Transformation, you’ve already reached a level of accomplishment. Used together, even an army of thousands wouldn’t be able to stand against you.”

“Can I now be considered a great demon?”

“That will require some cultivation and spiritual attainment,” Song You said sincerely. “But you're already very close.”

“How long will it take?”

“The spells you specialize in are all related to combat and magical duels. If it's just about matching a great demon in terms of fighting ability, a few decades might be enough, perhaps even less, depending on your dedication. But generally speaking, to truly be called a great demon, one must have at least a few hundred years of cultivation.”

“A few hundred years of cultivation...” the cat muttered softly, furrowing her brow. She clearly realized it wasn't so simple. Still uncertain, she asked again, “So... how long will it take?”

“A few hundred years.” This time, the answer was straightforward.

The cat said nothing more, turned around, and leapt off the table.

1. "Wind, flowers, snow, and moon" (风花雪月) originally referred to natural scenery often depicted in classical poetry and prose. Later, it came to be used metaphorically to describe writings that are overly ornate but lacking in substance. It can also refer to matters of romance or a life of indulgence and debauchery. ☜

2. The Classic of Poetry is the oldest existing collection of Chinese poetry, comprising 305 works dating from the 11th to 7th centuries BC. It is one of the "Five Classics" traditionally said to have been compiled by Confucius, and has been studied and memorized by scholars in China and neighboring countries over two millennia. ☜