Chapter 707: Chapter 707

The Daoist tended the stove while the little girl stoked the fire. In the pot was a soup of sponge gourd and tender meat.

Only one oil lamp burned on the stove, casting a dim, yellow light. Song You used the lamp’s glow to place the pieces of tender meat into the pot, small bubbles continuously forming along the edges.

The meat, coated in a thin layer of starch, quickly turned a lotus-red hue under the heat. The starch became translucent and glossy, giving a clear sense of the silky texture to come.

The sponge gourd had only recently been introduced from another region. Being in season between summer and autumn, it was a prized ingredient. Sponge gourd required little space to grow, climbing trees for support. Beyond being eaten, its dried inner sponge could even serve as a scrub for dishes. Many areas in Yizhou cultivated it.

Yesterday, while wandering in Lingquan City, Song You had spotted some for sale at a very cheap price. Without hesitation, he bought a single one. Now, cut into small pieces, the sponge gourd floated and sank in the pot, releasing a fresh, gentle fragrance.

After adding all the tender meat, Song You didn’t pause. Covering the pot, he picked up several eggs, cracked them into a bowl, added a spoonful of salt, and quickly stirred.

The clink of chopsticks against the bowl rang out clearly.

Lady Calico’s face glowed in the firelight as she craned her head, watching every movement of the Daoist.

By the time the eggs were beaten, the soup had nearly come to a boil. Lifting the lid, steam immediately rose, making the oil lamp’s light hazy. The fragrant aroma of sponge gourd and meat mingled perfectly in the rising vapor.

Lady Calico stood, staring into the pot.

Song You used a spatula to scoop a bit of soup, bringing it to his mouth. Without even touching his lips to it, he slurped the soup in.

It was rich and fragrant, with the seasoning perfectly balanced.

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The Daoist leaned down slightly, eyes fixed on the pot. He picked out the smallest piece of tender meat with his spatula and held it in front of Lady Calico. “In our old home, those busy in the kitchen, especially the little ones, have the right to the first bite of meat. Lady Calico, you’ve done a great deal of work, so you should taste it first.”

“...!” The little girl carefully pinched the piece of meat, blew on it quickly, and popped it into her mouth.

“Delicious!” Lady Calico’s expression remained serious, yet she sat down again.

The smallest piece of meat was already cooked; the larger pieces needed more time. The Daoist waited a while, then scooped the rest into a bowl.

Lady Calico sat motionless, constantly watching the fire in the stove, yet she couldn’t help glancing around the kitchen.

Over the past twenty years, especially in the first half, it had often been the Daoist cooking while she tended the fire. Except for when they were in Changjing or Yidu with their own kitchen, most of the time they had cooked over temporary stoves in the wilderness using small pots. It wasn’t bad, but the feeling wasn’t the same as now. Now, it felt entirely different.

She heard the Daoist scrubbing the iron pot.

With little water left in the pot, it evaporated quickly over the high heat, the sound reaching her ears. Once the iron pot was hot, the lard melted immediately, then the eggs went in, producing a crisp, clear sound. “Ssss…”

Even these sounds were pleasant to hear.

Add the crackling of the fire, the warmth, the aroma of the food ahead, and the comfort of the place…

Lady Calico added a piece of firewood, then leaned back slightly, eyes still fixed on the Daoist and the pot. Watching, she felt that things could just go on forever.

The fragrance wafted toward her again.

“Lower the fire a little.”

Lady Calico snapped back to attention. Her expression remained impassive, but she pointed toward the stove, and the flames immediately dropped.

Half an hour later, in the main hall…

The oil lamp had been moved here, barely illuminating a square table, casting four human silhouettes onto the walls.

Several dishes were arranged on the table.

In the center was the bowl of sponge gourd and tender meat soup, alongside a bowl of pickled fish, a plate of scrambled eggs with sour eggplant, a dish of cold century eggs, and a dish of stuffed snails. The aroma filled the room, a rich spread to mark the end of twenty years of wandering and to celebrate their first day back at the temple.

Lady Calico held her personal little bowl, a precious, delicately crafted blue-and-white porcelain piece, while Song You, Yan, and little Jiang Han used ordinary bowls. Each took a bowl of soup first.

“Thank you all for your hard work today.” Song You ladled soup for them, handing it out.

Lady Calico picked up a snail with her chopsticks, examining the meat inside with curiosity. She marveled at this method of cooking, considering whether the rat meat might have been too lean. The Daoist had used a three-fat-seven-lean ratio in the filling, and when he cooked with minced meat, he always followed strict ratios. This made it tricky for rat meat. Hearing the Daoist speak, she quickly put her thoughts aside and responded, “You’re welcome! What are we doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, you will open the temple to receive worshippers. If anyone comes to offer incense, they must be properly attended to,” Song You said. “I’ll go repair the stable.”

“At dusk, if there’s time, we can burn some of the weeds around the temple grounds.”

“Then we need to cultivate the fields. Once autumn comes and the villagers have harvested, we’ll gather the leftover grains from their fields. I also need to go to the city to commission a few new statues from craftsmen, retrieve the bedding we ordered, and buy some chicks to raise.”

Lady Calico listened attentively, envisioning the scene in her mind.

After tidying up today, the place already felt wonderful. She was overjoyed. If the little fish in the pond grew bigger, if more rabbits populated the mountain, if fruit and grain were planted on both sides of the temple, and if chickens were raised and laid eggs, what could be more like an immortal’s life than this?

“Is there more? Is there more?”

“For now, this is all I’ve thought of.”

“That’s it? So little!”

Song You looked at her, full of energy and enthusiasm, and shook his head helplessly. He could only say, “Let’s eat first.”

The little girl didn’t say a word and lowered her head to eat quickly.

The weather had been good today. On the mountain, twilight lingered longer than in the valley below. In the distance, the sky was painted with brilliant sunset clouds. The night air swarmed with insects and flitting bats, and stars were gradually appearing overhead. The height of midsummer’s feeling was at its peak.

After the meal, the Daoist went up to the loft.

No one had entered for over a decade, yet the loft was completely dust-free. Song You carried an oil lamp inside, spread out paper and brushes on the old desk that had survived countless years. Lady Calico took human form, just as she had years ago, to grind ink for him, then transformed back into a cat, wandering and sniffing around the loft.

The windows were open, and the mountain wind filled the room.

The Daoist lowered his head, lost in thought for a long while, then began writing the final entry of his travelogue.

“Late summer, the tenth year of Da’an…” Small characters appeared on the paper.

Meanwhile, Lady Calico the cat pretended to run and jump across the desk, tilting her head and peeking at his writing several times. But today had been full of traveling, shopping, and tidying up the temple rooms. Even the most energetic cat would feel tired, and exhaustion after excitement was harder to resist. Running around, Lady Calico eventually grew tired and gradually became still.

By the time the Daoist was halfway through his writing, she was lying in front of the desk, only keeping her eyes open. She was staring outside, whether at the sunset, the stars, or the bats, no one could tell. By the time he finished the final entry and put down his brush, she had fallen asleep.

Song You could hear her breathing, see the gentle rise and fall of her belly. She looked so peaceful, it felt wrong to interrupt.

He just watched her for a long while. And in truth, he knew what this little creature was thinking:

Though Lady Calico was a cat, she had always been strongly territorial. This was likely related to her origins, her childhood experiences, and perhaps even the Cat Temple. Over twenty years of traveling with him, she had always been alert and uneasy in unfamiliar places, but when she stayed somewhere for a long time, she became reluctant to leave. Deep down, she preferred a stable, secure, familiar home rather than wandering the world with him.

Now that she finally had one, she was naturally excited. And after excitement came exhaustion.

When Song You withdrew his gaze, the ink on the paper had already dried, giving off a faint, pleasant fragrance.

He carefully stood up.

Perhaps sensing the movement, the little creature shifted, covering her eyes with a paw and letting out a soft “Mm,” and she looked so adorable that he froze for a moment. After a short while, he continued standing, walked over, and took out thick stacks of paper.

These were all the travelogues he had written over twenty years. He realized, without noticing, how many had accumulated.

The oldest sheets were yellowed. If not for his spiritual protection, they would have become dry and brittle by now.

Looking at the thick stacks, seeing the earliest yellowed sheets, one could truly grasp that twenty years was no short span of time.

The Daoist placed the newest sheet on top but couldn’t resist picking up the earliest one, holding it up to the lamp to examine.

“Autumn, first year of Mingde, arrived at Yizhou…”

Before him appeared that somewhat aloof young Daoist of the past, and the innocent, naïve Lady Calico who was still getting familiar with him but tried hard to contribute to their small team of one human and one cat, along with the small courtyard in Yidu.

“Second year of Mingde, early February, arrived at Xuzhou…”

Yet the first thing to come to mind wasn’t the scenery of Xuzhou, nor the Great Liujiang Gathering, nor the Zoujiao Temple or its old master. It was that cat, who had jumped onto the desk, tilting her head in puzzled gaze, asking what this was, and leaning close to the paper to see.

Though she couldn’t read, she had to peek; and not content with just looking, she pawed at his hand to move it away, making it hard for him to continue writing.

On that very page were traces of her paw and half a paw print.

When he came back to reality, the cat was still lying on the desk, sleeping soundly.

“Spring, fourth year of Mingde, arrived at Changjing…

“Winter, sixth year of Mingde, north of Yuezhou, in the Qingtong Forest, no divine bird in sight, first received a letter from Daoist Elder Heiyu…

“End of the seventh year of Mingde, parted ways with Heroine Wu in Changjing…

Song You flipped through the pages slowly, line by line. Unnoticed, the stars outside had shifted across the sky; the night deepened, passing from early night into late night.

As he looked at these words, the scenes from back then seemed to appear before his eyes. The feelings of those times were rekindled. The oil in the lamp hadn’t decreased in the slightest, yet from beginning to end, it felt as if he had relived these twenty years of experiences all over again.

Almost simultaneously, the cat fell asleep.

But in her dream, she didn’t relive the mountains and stories of those twenty years. Instead, she dreamed of the very beginning of that span of time, before it had even truly begun.

In a small temple dedicated to a minor deity, a divine spirit clothed in colorful robes, radiating divine light, and possessing a majestic authority far beyond that of a mere cat, spoke in a deep voice, saying that she was to be taken away and punished according to celestial law.

And she, just a tiny cat, weak and powerless, had no choice but to curl up at the feet of the Daoist she had only recently met, entrusting both her safety and her trust to him, while trying hard to appear not completely helpless.

Then the Daoist spoke to the deity, saying that he would take her under his care, teach her, and guide her properly. The Daoist was indeed very capable.

Stepping out of the temple, the cat was still uneasy, taking tiny, tentative steps behind him, looking up at him and asking, “What is ‘guidance’?”

The Daoist replied gently and calmly, “What is reform?”

“It means to influence you and cause you to change for the better.”

“How will I be influenced?”

“Talking too much will make you thirsty on the road.”

“How will I change?” Lady Calico asked again.

“You will change slowly.”

Half asleep and half awake, Lady Calico was surprised. She could still remember words from so long ago.

At the horizon, a faint trace of dawn appeared, and the morning star shone brightly.

At some point, the oil lamp had gone out. The Daoist lay quietly in the loft, turning his gaze to the light outside the window, quietly recalling the past.