Chapter 657: Chapter 657

ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by novel(ꜰ)ire.net

“There are a lot more people here who speak Mandarin Chinese now!”

“Lady Calico, you’re already using the term 'Mandarin Chinese'?”

“Meow? What about it?”

“Nothing...” The Daoist smiled and shook his head. “It’s just that you never used to say it like that.”

“You're thinking... but the way you responded is so weird!”

“Yes, yes! Your focus is so weird!”

The Daoist was still wearing that same old Daoist robe from several years ago, walking with a staff along the narrow path between the terraced fields.

A cat still followed behind him, while a swallow flew overhead through the clouds.

Compared to a few years ago, there was only one thing missing: a jujube-red horse.

They passed through the village, crossed the fields, and headed toward the sheer cliff face on the eastern side of the Bashu.

The elevation here was already very high. Looking out into the distance, there were no peaks taller than this one, and one couldn’t even see the ground anymore. The view was filled mostly with sky and clouds, and the rest was occupied by mountain ranges slightly lower than where they stood. Walking here felt like treading in the heavens, and one's mood naturally became vast and open.

Just like the first time.

Only this time, upon returning, they found that there really were more people here who spoke the official tongue.

Some of them looked like recluses from the mountains. Others did not.

These people lived in the mountain villages. It was early morning, and as the Daoist made his way toward the sheer cliff, some walked with him, carrying tools or hauling wood, likely having come up from below the mountain.

Though Lady Calico had a celestial crane as a mount, Song You had not flown straight to the summit. Instead, they had flown halfway up the mountain and stayed overnight. At the break of dawn, they started climbing the rest on foot. Along the way, there were more hoofprints on the path, along with a lot more horse dung, some scattered bricks and broken tiles, it seemed like construction was underway on the mountain, and teams of horses had hauled building materials up here from below.

Judging by the current scene, that was very likely the case.

“May I ask, good sir...”

The Daoist stopped a man also heading toward the cliff, who looked like a craftsman, and greeted him with a bow. “You all don’t appear to be native to this mountain village. Where have you come from, and what is your purpose here?”

“Your’e a Daoist?” the man in craftsman attire asked.

“I am indeed a Daoist.”

“Are you a mountain recluse?”

“Just came up from below.”

“Ah, sir, you may not know this, but some of us came from the county seat, some from Luchuan. We were all hired by a wealthy merchant surnamed Mr. Liu,” the craftsman replied respectfully, cupping his hands. “Mr. Liu is funding the construction of a temple on the mountain. He wants it built in the style of Great Yan’s palaces and temples.

“The mountain villages only have earthen houses, and no one here knows how to build such temples or palaces. But Mr. Liu has invested a great deal, and it seems like he's planning to build a rather grand Daoist temple up here and invite some of the mountain recluses to oversee it. Since the villagers can’t manage the construction, craftsmen like us were hired from the towns below.”

“Yes, a temple. It's actually a Daoist temple, mainly dedicated to the true dragon that resides in this mountain. As for the rest, there are many reclusive cultivators up here, they can offer worship to whomever they choose.”

“When did construction begin?”

“End of last year, I think. Mr. Liu spared no expense and hired many people. The temple is more than halfway finished now.”

The craftsman paused for a moment, then gestured for Song You to keep walking with him. As they continued down the path, he chatted on, “Apparently, for many years now, the mountain recluses and even the villagers have been thinking about this. With more and more Daoists settling up here, the local people gradually became more devout as well.

“But there wasn’t even a proper temple, no place to burn incense or offer prayers. In the past that might’ve been fine, but now the world’s growing more chaotic, and Mountain Gods and monsters are becoming more common. It’s said that if a temple is built, some of the more responsive deities in the heavens will at least offer a bit of protection. Even if they don’t, those demons and spirits fear divine places. Since Mr. Liu is willing to sponsor it, naturally the construction began.”

“Would the Mr. Liu you speak of be the one from Luchuan in Bu Commandery?”

“You know Mr. Liu too, sir?”

“He’s an acquaintance from long ago.”

“Well, that’s perfect then. Mr. Liu often comes up here to inspect the construction, though he’s always busy with his cloth business, so it’s hard to catch him around...”

“It’s all up to fate.”

As Song You walked on, he could already see the ring of mountains surrounding the cloud pool in the distance. In a fleeting moment, the awe-inspiring image of the true dragon rising from that very pool years ago rose vividly in his mind.

Near the sheer cliff, beside the billowing sea of white clouds, not far from the wild peach tree where Song You had once camped, a section of the terraced fields had been leveled. In this place of breathtaking scenery and deep mist, a Daoist temple was under construction. It was not overly massive, but clearly refined and carefully designed. One could easily imagine how beautiful it would look once completed.

“This really is a wonderful place,” the craftsman went on conversationally. “The scenery’s beautiful, it’s quiet, not too hot in summer, not too cold in winter. There’s a true dragon here, with the dragon’s spiritual energy and blessing, people probably even live longer. Pity that we didn’t see the dragon this Spring Festival. The villagers say they haven’t seen it for a few years now.”

“Things are getting worse down in the world. Who knows… tch, who knows when war might break out. Folks are saying Mr. Liu built this place to retreat from the world in his old age, a sanctuary to live out the rest of his days. If not for that… sigh, I’d want to move up here myself.”

“Who wouldn't...” Song You replied politely, offering a courteous echo.

As they approached the temple under construction, it was clear that much care had gone into it. The layout featured three layers of courtyards, inner and outer.

The craftsman told him that the temple was to be named Qinglong Temple, which meant “Azure Dragon Temple,” because the true dragon of this mountain was an azure-scaled divine dragon. The main hall would be solely dedicated to the dragon. No other deities would be enshrined. At the same time the temple was being built, Mr. Liu had hired one of the finest sculptors to carve a statue of the true dragon, with assistance from the mountain recluses.

The two projects were proceeding in tandem.

“The lowly one must get back to work now. If you're interested, sir, you could walk around the temple grounds and see if anything seems off, feel free to offer your guidance. Around noon each day, villagers bring lunch here in baskets. There are no lavish feasts, but there’s red rice and dry-cooked meals. It’s all prepared by the wealthier families in the village. If you’ve nowhere else to be, you’re welcome to try some.”

“No need to thank me, it’s not my food, nor my grain. I’ve only said a few words, that’s all.”

Waving his hand, the craftsman turned and walked ahead.

The Daoist stopped in place, gazing toward that direction.

The workers had already begun their tasks. From afar came a mix of voices, such as indistinct conversations, the sound of hammering, sawing wood, and the cries of porters hauling bricks and stones up the mountain.

“Want to go take a look, meow?” the cat asked.

The Daoist resumed walking, heading in another direction.

He followed a narrow path along the edge of the cliff, beside him vast billows of white cloud. Calming his heart and focusing his spirit, the Daoist could faintly sense the life force flowing beneath the cloud pool.

Gradually, he arrived at a place where no one else could be seen.

Behind him, the temple under construction had already vanished from sight.

“I’m going down to retrieve the true dragon’s spiritual resonance. I ask that you wait up here and amuse yourself for a while,” the Daoist said, halting and addressing the cat at his side.

The cat walked to the edge of the cliff and peeked over, staring into the sea of clouds below with visible surprise.

“But it’s nothing but clouds down there!”

“No need to worry, Lady Calico. I’ve been there before.”

“Several years back  in a dream.”

“Dream-wandering is a method of astral travel. It’s half real, half illusory.”

“What’s down there, then?”

“A pool of water, a vast lake. The dwelling place of the true dragon.”

“Want me to have the celestial crane take you down?”

“Then how will you get down there?”

“I’ll just go down .”

The Daoist now stood at the very edge of the sheer cliff. He turned to meet the gaze of the cat looking up at him and gave her a small smile, then turned and stepped to the side.

That side was the cliff face and the sea of clouds. With just a single step, he plunged into the cloud sea below.

Lady Calico had long known he would do this, and she had been prepared and knew full well that he wouldn’t fall to his death. Still, upon witnessing it, she instinctively widened her eyes, darted toward the edge of the cliff, and reached out a paw to try and hook the corner of his robe. But by the time she made the move, the Daoist had already fallen deep into the sea of clouds. Left with no other option, she stood with three paws on the cliff’s edge, extending her right front paw to swat at the air a couple of times, as if to say at least she’d tried.

She then retracted her paw, stretched out her neck, and peered down.

The clouds were indeed thick and deep. The Daoist had disappeared into the depths in the blink of an eye, and the clouds had swallowed him as easily as water might.

Because of the wind stirred up by his descent, the clouds even rippled and surged like splashing waves.

The cat stared, unblinking, a serious look on her face.

The cliff truly was nearly vertical, almost exactly as the Daoist had seen in his dream-wandering years ago. Tenacious vegetation clung to it, growing from stone faces with no soil, many of which were covered in moss. No matter how thick the clouds were, they couldn’t completely block out the light of the sky, though everything was dim and murky, the blue sky was obscured.

This fall, however, was a natural one. It was not dreamlike or mystical. Yet the Daoist could still control his direction mid-fall. He could even summon the wind to help slow his descent.

As he continued downward, it became clear that he had already passed the distance between Bashu and the ground below.

The sheer cliffs remained, and the cloud pool and deep pit still existed. Only now, they were embedded in the earth. It was only then that the light from the sky began to grow dimmer.

At some point, he had already passed through the layer of cloud and fog.

The Daoist looked down.

Beneath him lay an underground spring. Though it was deep underground, the pit was so vast it resembled a small pool. The spring spread wide, stretching so far it resembled a lake, with no visible shore in sight. Unlike typical underground caves that were nearly pitch-dark, the area here still held a faint light, dimmer than on the surface, more like the dusky twilight of evening.

The spring was still and mirror-like, emanating a chill.

A wind came of its own accord, lifting the Daoist gently and allowing him to come to rest above the surface of the water.

The still waters rippled in response. Song You quietly lowered his gaze, looking down below.

Though several years had passed, he could still feel the aura of the true dragon here. The spiritual resonance hidden deep beneath the surface was as radiant as ever.

Yet the dragon was no longer present. All the arrangements it had once made had naturally dispersed with the wind. The waters now lacked the formidable power that, as in his dream, had once deterred even him from entering lightly.

If not for the residual dragon aura that lingered in this place, known by all the Mountain Gods and monsters, who revered the dragon as a divine being and dared not approach, the temptation of the potent spiritual energy would surely have drawn them here long ago. Even if the cliff rose ten thousand zhang high, they would have come searching.

Song You did not enter the water. He simply reached out his hand.

The surface of the water split open at once, sending up droplets and waves.

A steady stream of azure energy rose from beneath, floating upward to hover over his hand. More and more of it gathered, gradually condensing, shifting from wisps of dispersed blue mist into a concentrated orb of brilliant teal light. Within it pulsed boundless vitality.

No one knew how long it took before the surface of the spring calmed once more. The spiritual resonance had been fully drawn into Song You’s hand.

What was a true dragon of the ancient age? What was the power of a divine beast?

This one sphere of spiritual vitality alone was enough to turn entire prefectures from winter to spring, or bring bountiful harvests to parched lands.

It was power worthy of a true mighty one.

The Daoist withdrew his hand, and the spiritual resonance vanished of its own accord.

“Let the wind carry me into the azure clouds.”

Once more, the still waters rippled from the rising wind.

A cold current rose from the depths, lifting the Daoist and carrying him upward into the air.

As for what lay within the Dragon Pool, what secrets might rest below the surface — the true dragon was gone. With no invitation from within, Song You did not intrude further.

Let it remain for those who come after.

In the blink of an eye, he had vanished into the clouds.

Mist flowed all around him. From this close, he could even make out its fine particles, clinging to his eyelashes, dampening his hair. In the heat of summer, it brought a refreshing coolness.

Until, gradually, the light above his head brightened, tinged with blue. In just the blink of an eye, he broke through the sea of clouds.

Heaven and earth opened wide before him. The terraced fields and village reappeared in the distance.

But compared to a few years ago, it was now summer, and the terraces had already been planted with rice. It was the season when the rice grew thick and lush. The fields that once looked like fragments of the sky and mirrors shattered across the mountainside were gone. Now they were blanketed in vibrant green stalks of grain, presenting a different kind of beauty altogether.

The sheer cliff was still covered in wild grass and trees. On a small tree stood a swallow, its head lowered, watching the narrow path below.

On the path, a calico cat was toying with an egg-shaped wooden seed about the size of a chicken egg, treating it like a plaything. She batted it with one paw, sending it flying, then quickly dashed after it and pounced. With the slightest touch of her paw, the seed was sent flying again, and she became a blur as she chased after it.

The cat played on her own, fully absorbed.

The swallow, though bored, watched with unexpected seriousness.

Only when the Daoist returned from the depths of the cloud sea did the swallow pull its gaze away and turn to look at him.

The cat had pinned the wooden seed beneath her paw. She turned to look at the Daoist Master, her expression blank for a moment, then lowered her head, picked up the wooden object, and walked over to place it at his feet. “I found a piece of wood. Look, it’s round, like a wooden egg.”

“It’s just a tree seed,” Song You said, bending down to pick it up. He examined it for a moment, then handed it back to her.

“No, you can’t. But if you like it, you can plant it somewhere.”

“You were gone a whole day this time.”

“Did you have a good time up here?”

“I had a very good time...”

The calico cat lowered her head again, picked up the wooden seed, and trotted alongside him with quick little steps.

The swallow spread its wings, left the tree, and flew into the sky.

As for Song You, he couldn’t help but recall the scene just now. Perhaps over these past few years, every time he was preoccupied with other matters or in seclusion, Lady Calico passed the time just : playing alone, amusing herself, quietly waiting for him to return.