“Are you sure that I’m not intruding?” Song You hesitated as he looked at the man. “Why would you be intruding? You’ve come from afar, so you’re a guest. And more importantly, sir, you're a cultivator. Is there anywhere you're not welcome?” “Indeed, my child and I wanted to come back and take a look. We were just worrying that someone else lives here now and we wouldn’t be able to get in.” Hearing the man’s words, the Daoist no longer hesitated. “Then I shall respectfully accept your hospitality.” “Haha! Come in, come in!” “I’d heard before that a Daoist once lived here for half a year. They all said he was highly skilled in the Daoist arts. I’d always wanted to meet you, but never knew where you’d gone. I even wanted to visit and offer incense, but there was no way to reach you,” the man said happily. “I never thought I’d meet you today.” “Right, may I ask your Daoist title?” “My surname is Song, given name You, style name Menglai. I don’t currently have a Daoist title.” As he replied, Song You stepped through the gate and into the courtyard. He turned his head and his gaze immediately fell on the center of the yard, where a wax plum tree was growing. It was now the season when the branches were full and leafy, and the tree bore fruit. But the wax plum treewas not a true plum tree, and its fruit wasn’t edible. It was mildly toxic, in fact. Lady Calico used to love playing in that tree. “I did hear that the Daoist’s name was Mr. Song,” the man said excitedly. “Many of the neighbors got talismans from that Daoist, and they were said to be incredibly effective. It must have been you.” Then he introduced himself, “My humble name is Gao Le. I work as a butcher here in Yidu.” “No need to be so formal, sir...” But as Butcher Gao spoke, he suddenly paused and frowned. “Wait a minute!” “What is it?” Song You withdrew his gaze from the courtyard wall and looked at him. “This courtyard has been ours for six years now. I heard it sat empty for several years before that. If you really lived here before, that must’ve been at least ten years ago, right?” “Thirteen years!” Butcher Gao and his wife both gasped in surprise. “But you look so young! Thirteen years ago, you must’ve still been a child, no? Could it be you’re really some sort of immortal, untouched by age or death?” “I’m neither immortal nor ageless,” Song You answered truthfully, “I’m just... at ease. Those who live in ease, do not go gray so easily.” “...” Butcher Gao exchanged a glance with his wife. Beside them, a small boy was watching quietly. Seeing how sincere Song You was, how he didn’t seem like someone weaving lies, and recalling the stories neighbors had told about the extraordinary Mr. Song who once lived there, Butcher Gao began to half-believe him. Then he saw the Daoist give a faint smile, bow slightly, and say, “Every word I spoke is true. I came this time merely to look around, to revisit the past. I am by no means one of those who try to use the rumors of this place once being haunted to extort money from you, Mr. Gao.” Butcher Gao turned to glance at his son, then lowered his voice and asked, “It really was haunted...?” “You saw it with your own eyes?” “What was it like...?” Song You stood where he was, thinking back. It truly felt like something from long ago. What came to mind most vividly now was the moonlight casting shadows of bamboo, the graceful figure of a woman dancing among them, the soft singing and weeping in the dead of night, and the ghost of that garrison officer from Turtle City in Yanzhou. It was exactly as they said, though parted by life and death, their bond was not so easily severed. By now, they were likely reunited. Though he didn’t know what ultimately became of them. And perhaps it was better not to know. Not knowing left room for imagining a happy ending. After a while, the Daoist returned to the present. He looked at Butcher Gao, who was staring at him intently, not blinking even once and filled with concern. “They were just unfortunate souls,” Song You finally said. “...” Butcher Gao once again turned to exchange a look with his wife. But his wife, unsure what to say, just looked down quietly, playing the role of someone to share glances with. Gradually, Butcher Gao’s suspicion faded. His expression grew solemn, and he quickly raised his hands in a deep respectful bow. “Sir, you truly are a man of the Dao. It was wrong of me to doubt you!” “Mr. Gao, you were merely being cautious. And caution is a virtue.” “Sigh...” Butcher Gao let out a long breath. Just then, his wife led their child back into the house. Only then did he turn to Song You and say, “I did know this place had once been haunted, but the price was so low I couldn’t pass it up. I made some inquiries and heard the ghost didn’t harm anyone and had been a good-hearted soul in life, someone who had suffered. “At the time, the spirit had also quieted down. I’ve always prided myself on my courage, as I spent a lifetime slaughtering pigs and sheep. There’s no ghost I’m afraid of; if anything, they should be afraid of me. And when I saw how elegant and peaceful the courtyard was, I truly liked it, so I bought it.” “But not long after that, once we had our child, some traveling charlatans came knocking. There were more than one, even. They spoke all sorts of fearful things, and in my panic, I ended up giving them quite a bit of money. Later, when I came to my senses, I was filled with resentment. That’s why I reacted the way I did.” “Mr. Gao, you have admirable courage.” “My wife is just about to start cooking dinner,” Butcher Gao said heartily. “If you don’t mind the smell of pork on me, please stay and have a meal with us.” “How could I impose?” “Consider it my chance to soak in a little immortal aura.” Butcher Gao laughed boldly. “Besides, there are a few matters about the house I’d like to ask you about.” “Then I’ll graciously accept your hospitality.” Seeing that Butcher Gao was sincerely welcoming, Song You agreed. He unloaded the horse’s baggage, letting it rest, then wandered through the courtyard with Lady Calico. Butcher Gao accompanied them, chatting with him now and then. The little courtyard was more or less the same as it had been back then, though the Gao family had tidied and cleaned it up further. Not that it had been dirty when Song You lived there, it was just that he was a leisurely, laid-back person. When he saw Dunce Caps growing beautifully on the roof tiles, he left it be, even if it might cause a leak. If weeds sprouted by the wall that bloomed with wildflowers and didn’t block the paths, he’d let them grow. But the Gao family had cleared it all away. Aside from the wax plum tree and a row of bamboo by the wall, there were hardly any other plants left. The house itself, though, now held far more furnishings than before. The Daoist walked over to the plum tree, gently placing his hand on its trunk. Meanwhile, the little girl in her tri-colored outfit followed him and did the same, placing her small, soft, white hand on the bark before tilting her head to look up along the trunk. Sensing his gaze, she turned to meet his eyes, her expression solemn. The Daoist only smiled, saying nothing. As if she knew exactly what he was thinking, the girl held his gaze for a moment, then turned back toward the tree, looking up at the places she had once climbed, stood, and sprawled out on. The Daoist then walked over to the courtyard wall, lifting his head to look at its top, then lowering it to gaze down at the base. The little girl stayed close behind, step for step, mimicking him. She tilted her head to look where he looked before meeting his gaze again. She could still sense what he wanted to say. Looking once more at that wall, things he thought long forgotten stirred again, reawakening vivid memories in his mind. He saw the image of a little girl walking along the overhanging eaves of that very courtyard wall. “I told you, Lady Calico, don’t climb onto the roof while in human form. People will think you’re a demon.” Lady Calico blinked as she stared at the top of the courtyard wall. The figure of that girl from the past now overlapped with her present self, though she’d been even smaller back then. They moved on to the bamboo grove, where the shadows danced in the breeze. The Daoist reached out and brushed his hand along the swaying bamboo leaves and stalks. The little girl mimicked his movements almost exactly. Butcher Gao followed behind, utterly confused. Still, he simply thought: A true master is beyond the understanding of ordinary folk like me. Since he was just a rough man, he said nothing more and quietly kept them company. That was, until the scent of cooked food drifted from the house. “Sir, dinner is ready.” Butcher Gao then led Song You into the main hall. The hall, however, now felt quite unfamiliar. Rooms were often like that; just a few changes in furniture arrangement, and the entire atmosphere would transform. What’s more, the Gao family had replaced the original table with a large dining table, making the place almost unrecognizable. Dinner, on the other hand, was bountiful. Large bones with meat still clinging to them, and the meat closest to the bone was always the most flavorful. There were also chunks of pork stewed with lotus root. The cooking was rustic, but the abundance and warmth behind it were impossible to miss. The rice was still made from Swallow Potato, and it was fragrant and sweet. Butchers in this day and age earned quite a bit; otherwise, even with the house's haunted past, a family of modest means wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Song You enjoyed the meal thoroughly. By the time they finished, dusk had fallen. “Since you’ve just arrived in Yidu today, sir, I imagine you haven’t found a place to stay yet. The courtyard may be small, but there are a few empty rooms, I'm sure you're aware. It’s no trouble to let a friend stay for a few days. Why not spend the night here?” Butcher Gao, slightly tipsy from drinking, extended the invitation warmly. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you. We’ll head out and find an inn.” “No need to be so formal, sir. Treat this as your own home,” Butcher Gao said with a grin. “And don’t worry about inconveniencing us. Every household has hosted a Daoist or a monk at some point. In another ten or twenty years, my boy might need to invite a Daoist to send me off, too.” “But we have a horse, so it really wouldn’t be convenient.” “Sigh...” Butcher Gao let out a breath, no longer pressing the issue. He stood up and said, “Then allow me to walk you out.” “You’ve had some wine, Mr. Gao, no need to trouble yourself.” “What’s a few steps to the gate?” Butcher Gao walked him out of the house and into the courtyard. There, he lowered his voice and said, “I didn’t want to ask during dinner, sir, but I’ve been meaning to. Those con men who came before, what they said sounded so convincing. If I were still living alone, I wouldn’t care. But now that I’ve got a wife and child, I must ask, does any trace of ghostly or ominous energy remain here?” “Mr. Gao, you needn’t worry, there’s none at all.” “Whew...” Only then did Butcher Gao breathe a sigh of relief. “Then I can rest easy.” “...” Song You smiled as well. “I really thought you were already drunk.” “Haha! I can hold my liquor well, you know!” “Then I’ll trouble you to see me off just this far.” “Alright, alright...” Song You led the horse out through the gate and gave a parting bow. Butcher Gao stood just inside the doorway and returned the gesture with a respectful look. As the Daoist turned slightly, he caught sight of a small courtyard diagonally across from the gate. Its doors were tightly shut, and the interior was utterly silent, so much so that it looked like no one had lived there for quite some time. “That used to be the home of Luo Jun, Yidu’s former constable,” came Gao’s voice from behind. “I heard the old gentleman got promoted a few years ago. The former prefect of Yizhou became the current Prime Minister, and Luo Jun followed him to the capital, Changjing. So the house was left vacant. But apparently he’s doing very well there, and no one dares touch his property. Every year, the Yidu county office even sends people to maintain and repair it.” Song You merely sighed inwardly, In today’s Yidu... how many old friends still remain?