Chapter 671: Chapter 671

“Mr. Yu, we’ve arrived.”

“Many thanks, sir.” Yu Jianbai’s face was full of emotion. “One day of riding a crane and crossing a thousand layers of mountains and rivers is more thrilling than the first fifty years I spent thinking myself lofty and refined, chasing the elegance of the Immortal Dao in vain.”

“…” Song You only smiled without replying.

If Yu Jianbai had said that a single day in the skies was more wonderful than the last eighteen years of his life, Song You would likely have disagreed. But since he was speaking only of the first half of his life, well, each person had their own views on such matters, and Song You made no comment. Instead, he cupped his hands and said, “Mr. Yu, take care.”

Hearing this, Yu Jianbai quickly returned the salute. “You too, sir, take care.”

Compared to the Daoist, his tone was much more solemn.

All his life until now, he had been only a mortal, and naturally had no clear idea what Song You had been doing these past years, or what ambitions he harbored. But he could vaguely sense it was no ordinary matter.

It involved ancient deities, and even the Celestial Emperor had personally intervened, how could that be a trivial affair?

Since ancient times, when have great undertakings ever been easily accomplished?

But he was only a newly dead ghost, with neither cultivation nor power. Even if he took up his post as a Palace Lord in the underworld, when it came to such weighty affairs, he likely could not be of any help. He didn’t even have a cup of farewell wine at hand; his sleeves were empty, the wind passing through them. As an old friend, all he could do was cup his hands in blessing, wishing the other a smooth road ahead.

The Daoist only smiled faintly at this.

“I’ll take my leave.”

And with that, he rode the crane away, heading straight for Pingzhou. Fengzhou was not far from Pingzhou. With the crane, it was only half a day’s journey.

At the foot of Yunding Mountain, beside Mirror Island Lake…

In early summer, the reeds and bulrushes along the shore of Mirror Island Lake bloomed brilliantly, carrying a freshness and tender vitality as if you could smell the water’s mist upon them. It was so different from the dry, whitened plumes of autumn.

The roadside was still the same little dirt path running along the lake. For a moment, it almost seemed one could hear the clip-clop of hooves from years past, and picture the twilight scene when sky and lake alike darkened, with fireflies filling the air. But now it was only a dewy morning.

The Daoist leaned on his bamboo staff and lifted his gaze.

The clear water stretched for thousands of qing[1], the lake surface like a mirror. In the middle, there were many small islands, some with houses built on them, some with pavilions and towers constructed, and some covered with reeds that have sprouted white flower spikes. Across the water, atop the distant mountains and high among the clouds, loomed a majestic immortal peak, half-veiled in a gauzy mist.

The Daoist walked slowly, taking in the land’s scenery and spiritual aura, and savoring the lingering emotions from years gone by.

“I wasn’t lying to you, Lady Calico, was I?” the Daoist said as he walked. “It really is a larger lake, better for fishing. And besides fish, one can even catch the famous crabs of Mirror Island Lake.”

Lady Calico also leaned on a small bamboo staff, glancing toward the lake as she walked. She especially scrutinized each of the small islands on the water, her eyes bright, carrying that special evaluative gaze unique to a seasoned angler assessing a fishing spot.

“This is a fine place! You can fish from the shore, fish from the lake, and even go to those little islands in the middle to fish. You’d surely catch plenty!”

“What you say is quite true.”

“I, Ms. Cali, will fish to my heart’s content!” Her voice was soft and delicate, yet her tone was firm.

Song You couldn’t help turning his head to look at her. “Ms. Cali?”

Lady Calico’s face was grave as she nodded. Seeing a trace of doubt in his eyes, she amended, “Ms. Calico!”

“That’s still not how you say it.”

“Then how should I say it?”

“Normally, you use your surname plus ‘Ms.’ For example, my surname is Song, so I’d be Mr. Song. General Chen’s surname is Chen, so he’s Mr Chen. Sir Shu’s surname is Shu, so he’s Mr Shu. Since you have no surname, there’s no need to say it that way[2].”

“Why don’t I have a surname?”

“Quite simply, because no one has ever given you one.”

“Why can’t you use ‘Mr.’ just because you don’t have a surname?”

“Ms. Cat!” For more chapters visıt novｅlfire.net

The Daoist shook his head and decided not to argue with her.

He lifted his gaze to the distant sky, and the Yunding Mountain still appeared and disappeared amid the drifting mists. Then he lowered his eyes to the far side, where the ferry crossing at the edge of Mirror Island Lake was now in sight, full of tourists. It was far busier than in years past.

But Song You’s purpose this time was not Yunding Mountain. He stepped toward the ferry dock. The lake was dotted with many boats of all sizes, and numerous boatmen were calling out to him.

“Sir, heading across the lake?”

“Just need two more passengers and we’re off!”

“Come ride my boat, children are half price.”

“Come ride my big boat, it’s steady and safe, children won’t fall in, no seasickness, and we go slow so you can take in the scenery. We’ve even got wine and pipa music on board.”

A jumble of voices filled his ears. Someone even reached out to tug at the Daoist’s sleeve.

Ms. Cat didn’t take well to this, her little face stiff, standing ramrod straight at the Daoist’s side, trying her best to look composed.

The Daoist wasn’t much used to it either.

He remembered well that over a decade ago, the ferry dock had been smaller and simpler. There were plenty of boats then too, big and small, and they would still solicit passengers, but they observed a basic order, taking customers according to who arrived first, giving priority to the closer trips. Now the dock was bigger, the crowds larger, and the boatmen more numerous, but things seemed messier, less respectful of any rules.

Scanning the area, he spotted a small boat. It was a small rowboat, without even a canopy.

It was the tiniest kind of boat where only one person could sit in a row, though several rows could fit. But with the boat so small, too many passengers and the water would nearly lap over the gunwales, making it hard for the boatman to row.

The Daoist walked over.

“Immortal, heading to the far shore? My small rowboat is perfect for enjoying the scenery, you can even reach down and touch the lake. And I just saw off a group of passengers. Mornings don’t bring many customers, so if you wish to go now, even if it’s just two people, I’ll ferry you across.”

“How much to rent your boat?”

“Rent? What do you mean by rent?”

“I mean borrow your boat to go out on the lake, and return it to you at this time tomorrow.”

“You’re not going to Yunding Mountain? Then you mean to row about the lake? Or fish in the lake?”

“Shall I row for you?”

“Borrow it today, return it tomorrow…” The boatman stood steady in his skiff, frowning, calculating in earnest. “I don’t have many customers in the daytime, but come dusk, there are always people wanting to rent a boat for an evening on the water, to stargaze, enjoy the moon, drink wine, sing songs. That’s a tidy sum. And tomorrow morning is the busiest time for business…”

The Daoist smiled. “You’re joking, who would rent a small rowboat to cruise the lake for moonlit scenery? With more than a few people, you can’t even lie down.”

At that, the young girl beside him immediately turned to look at him.

The boatman laughed at that, scratching his head as he said, “So you know your stuff. Since you don’t need me to row you out, I’ll just take fifty wen from you, earning myself a bit of easy money. Seeing as you’re no ordinary man, I suppose this lets me share in a bit of immortal fate too.”

“If by this time tomorrow you haven’t come back…”

“Then we’ll count it as another day,” the Daoist replied. “It might not be just one or two days, it could be two or three, maybe even three to five days.”

“You’re straightforward, sir, but I’ll still need some kind of deposit.”

“How about one tael of silver?”

The Daoist handed over a neat, square little silver ingot, one of the kind minted by a moneyhouse for ease of circulation, without any filing marks.

The boatman took it, inspected it carefully, then produced a small balance scale to weigh it. Exactly one tael, and no need for further record. He tucked it into his chest and said, “You know how to row, I presume?”

“Then I’ll thank you for letting me enjoy a day of leisure.”

The boatman chuckled, rowed the skiff over to the dock, and swapped places with the Daoist and the little girl. Before leaving, he reminded them to bring water and food and watch out for the sun on the lake, then stood on the shore to watch them off.

He had expected the Daoist to take the oars, but once on board, the Daoist simply sat in the middle, while the pretty young girl put down her bundle, picked up the oar with practiced ease, and rowed them smoothly away from shore.

A swallow swooped low over the water, skimmed toward the boat, then lifted slightly to land on the bow. Ripples spread across the lake’s surface.

The small rowboat drifted slowly toward the heart of Mirror Lake. Islands lay scattered like a forest; weaving among them, the little boat soon vanished from sight behind the islets.

“Here! This is the spot!”

Lady Calico’s eyes widened as she peered into the water, as if she could see the movement of fish through the clear green depths. She brought the boat to a stop, took up her small fishing rod, and muttered to herself about how “Ms. Cat is going to have a great haul today” as she struggled to untangle her fishing line.

It took her ages to work apart the hopelessly knotted thread. By then, the fish had moved on, so she had to row after them, still muttering to herself as she cast the line out again.

She also remembered to turn and ask the Daoist, “Do you prefer eating fish, shrimp, or the shellfish from here?”

“If you catch too many fish and tire of them, then let’s catch some shrimp and crabs instead. Though at this time of year, the crabs aren’t at their best, so you have to wait until autumn for them to be truly fat and tasty.”

“You can get tired of fish!” Lady Calico shook her head, then turned to the swallow. “And you, what do you want to eat?”

“I’ll eat whatever you catch.”

“Mm!” Ms. Cat nodded vigorously. Then she gripped the fishing rod and stayed still.

Fishing was one of the few times she could truly be quiet. The Daoist paid her no mind, simply put on a bamboo hat, took out a miscellaneous book, and bent his head to read.

From time to time, a breeze would pass over the water, though it rarely ruffled the lake’s surface, only set the little skiff swaying gently, sending two small trails of ripples outward, adding to the sense of ease.

At noon, they took out scallion pancakes bought in Changsheng County, laid on lotus leaves at the bow. The increasingly fierce early-summer sun naturally served to warm them, and with a slightly tart fermented drink to go with it, that was lunch. By the time the afternoon heat left them drowsy, they half sat, half lay at the bow, using the bamboo hat to block the sun, and took a nap.

Unnoticed, the sky darkened.

The glow of dusk carried a hint of seduction; the surrounding mountains became silhouettes, reeds on the lakeshore swayed in the wind, until the stars came out, all reflected in the water.

Lady Calico had caught a good haul of shrimp, crabs, and fish, cooked them on an uninhabited islet in the middle of the lake for dinner, then returned to the little boat. She tried sitting cross-legged like the Daoist, but couldn’t resist tilting her head back or down, gazing at the brilliant stars, both in the sky and mirrored in the lake.

In the distance, other boats moored for the night, larger than the Daoist’s small rowboat.

On the big painted pleasure boats, nobles and officials feasted with musicians playing and dancers swirling, faint strains of song drifting across the water.

On the smaller covered boats, scholars and literati gathered, most composing poems and verses in hopes of winning the favor of the legendary goddess, or discussing the immortals said to dwell on Yunding Mountain, the ancient tales and the two sightings of immortals in recent years, dreaming of the Dao and eternal life.

There were many voices, but all came from far away.

By the time it drifted over to the small rowboat in the night, it was already faint to the point of being almost imperceptible, only serving to further highlight the quiet of the night and the chill over the lake.

Suddenly, a few bubbles rose to the surface of the lake.

At the first sound, Ms. Cat, who had been sitting cross-legged, immediately turned around, braced her hands on the gunwale, and leaned over to look, suspecting some large creature was moving beneath the water.

The bubbles in the lake multiplied, accompanied by a rising mist of cold vapor. A moment later, several graceful figures surfaced from below, leaving Ms. Cat staring in surprise.

“Immortal Master, you’ve arrived, please forgive us for failing to welcome you from afar.”

At the forefront stood none other than the Goddess of Mirror Island Lake, the very same goddess those romantic scholars dreamed of.

Now, she had come in person to greet the Daoist, and they exchanged bows.

1. Traditional unit of area equivalent to 100 mu or 6.67 hectares. ☜

2. “某” (mǒu) means “so-and-so” and is used after a surname to refer to someone without naming them specifically (e.g., 宋某 means “someone surnamed Song”). It’s a formal or neutral way to mention a person when their full name isn’t needed. Since “三花娘娘” has no surname, it’s unnecessary and incorrect to say “三花某.” ☜