Mi lan, also known as mi gan or fen gan, was just another name for rice vermicelli. The pork rice vermicelli served at the inn were made with a broth simmered from large bones, and it was cooked to perfection. The soup was rich and flavorful, oily but not greasy. The snow-white noodles floated in the slightly milky broth, topped with pieces of slow-braised pork. The meat seemed to be from shank or knuckle cuts, still attached to thick skin and fat, stewed until tender enough to be torn apart with just chopsticks. It was savory and full of flavor. There were a few chopped scallions, a pinch of pickled vegetables, and nothing else. Yet, just as the innkeeper had promised, it tasted light and fresh. One mouthful, and the warm broth slid gently and smoothly down into the belly. A soothing warmth rose from the throat to the stomach. On a slightly chilly autumn evening , it was simply wonderful. And if the noodles came up with a bite of the same delicate yet richly flavored pork, which was half lean and half fat. The lean was soft without being dry, and the fat was fragrant without being greasy. Paired with just a touch of pickled vegetables, even the faintest hint of greasiness was perfectly balanced out, achieving a sublime harmony. Song You savored the local delicacy, appreciating how surprisingly simple ingredients and technique could result in such a delicious dish. The calico cat beside him was also chewing on the meat. From time to time, she would raise her head, and a frown creased her feline brow. Her once-round eyes narrowed as she glanced at the Daoist, then she'd lower her head again to continue eating. “Don’t bother thinking about it, Lady Calico. A rat could never make anything that tastes .” “No?” The Daoist glanced at her again. “Well, don’t overthink it. This bowl is enough for me. The innkeeper gave us quite a bit of extra meat. Even though I gave you more than half, the meat in my bowl is still the normal portion. Just focus on enjoying your share.” “Meow!” The cat lifted her head again, frowning at him, as if she wanted to say something but held back. Then she lowered her head once more and continued chomping away at the meat. All this, and the bowl only cost ten wen. Once the Daoist finished eating and paid the bill, he returned to the room. The guest room wasn't necessarily more spacious than those at the chema inns, but it was more refined. Inside was an oil lamp with a bit of oil still left in it, which was complimentary from the inn. Any more would have to be purchased. Song You entered, placed the inn’s lamp in the furthest corner of the entry cabinet, then took out his own lamp and lit it. The room instantly filled with a warm glow. “Rustle...” Lady Calico leapt onto the table and looked at the Daoist before finally speaking, “Daoist priest, I have something stuck in my mouth; oh no, wait, two things.” “Where are they stuck?” “In my mouth,” the cat said, then closed her mouth to think for a moment. After feeling around, she added, “One on each side.” “What does it feel like?” “It’s stuck to me! It hurts and tickles!” “Ah, sounds like you have mouth sores.” Song You nodded. “I told you, didn’t I? Eat too much, and you’ll get mouth sores.” “It’s sugarcane pulp!” “It’s probably blistered or ulcerated.” “It’s sugarcane pulp! Definitely!” “Then it’s an ulcer.” “It’s sugarcane pulp! I’m sure of it!” Song You looked away, too tired to argue with her anymore. He walked straight to the bed, sat down, took off his shoes, changed into wooden clogs, and began washing up. This little thing was stubborn as ever. He’d already warned her many times that eating too much sugarcane would give her mouth sores. But she refused to listen. And now, her mouth had indeed broken out, yet she still wouldn’t admit it, insisting on a half-baked excuse. Ultimately, she just didn’t want to acknowledge that it was her own fault for not listening, so she blamed it on an “accident.” It was a typical child’s trick. But Lady Calico quickly reminded him that she wasn’t just any ordinary child. She followed him as he moved. When he changed shoes, she walked over to the bed; when he washed up, she followed to the wall; when he picked up a tooth stick, she trailed him to the travel bag, looking up at him the whole time. After a moment, she finally asked in a teeny, tiny voice, “How could someone as amazing as me get a mouth sore from eating sugarcane?” “Lady Calico, you’re indeed amazing. An ordinary person eats one stalk of sugarcane, and after half an afternoon their mouth would already be blistered and raw. But you ate it for several days, and who knows how many stalks you ate day and night, and it only just started hurting now. That’s really something.” Still in that tiny voice full of hesitation and a hint of worry, she asked for help, “What should I do then?” “There’s no more sugarcane here. Just go to sleep, it’ll get better by tomorrow. You had so much meat tonight, don’t bother chasing mice. Let the inn’s mice live an extra night,” the Daoist said. He continued, “Next time you run into sugarcane again, try to show some restraint. If you eat too much all at once, even if your mouth doesn’t blister, you’ll grow tired of the taste. Then the world will have one less peerless delicacy, and that would be a form of arrogance.” “Mm...” The cat looked thoughtful. After a while, she muttered softly, “Even if I catch mice, I don’t have to eat them... I can store them...” The Daoist ignored her. After finishing his wash, he walked over to the window, then he opened the window and looked outside. The last time he arrived in Yundu, there had been a full moon. Now, a half-moon hung in the sky once more. Bathed in moonlight, a wide open space lay behind the inn. The grass growing there was short and sparse. Scattered across the clearing stood wooden frames of varying heights, from which many cloths were hung or spread out, all swaying in the night breeze beneath the moonlight. This was where Lady Chai lived. The faces of those people from back then were already beginning to blur in Song You’s memory. He could no longer recall how many households he had visited, how many people had welcomed him with food and drink. But he still remembered that the first person he met when he entered the painting was an old farmer. That was the first house he visited. The old farmer’s surname was Chai, and his name was Chai Xueyi. There were seven people in the family: the elderly couple, their son and daughter-in-law, a grandson, and two granddaughters, both of whom were unmarried. This place might seem similar to the world within the painting, but in truth, the differences were vast. Here, the seasons turned, and yin and yang alternated. Here, everything was real and normal. The laws of heaven were complete, and all natural rules intact. You could plant crops in the reeds, or reeds in the fields. Outsiders might arrive at any moment, and anyone might leave. Beyond that mountain lay even more ranges, and beyond those was a vast world still, where rain and shine took turns. When Song You had entered the painting back then, though the scenery was breathtaking and time stood still in the most perfect season, with villagers warm and kind, he had still found it hard to live there. Moreover, he had entered the painted world with mental preparation. But those people from the painting, when they came out into this entirely different reality, he could only imagine how lost and anxious, frightened and bewildered they must have felt at first. Song You stood by the window for a while before finally going to sleep. When Song You awoke, the calico cat was already awake, perched on the window ledge, watching the courtyard behind the inn. Upon hearing movement behind her, she turned her head and stared straight at the Daoist. From her bright and lively expression, it was easy to see that her mouth had probably healed. The Daoist slowly put on his robe and walked to the window as well, looking out. The weather in Yundu truly lived up to its reputation. Though it was still early morning, pale golden sunlight had already spilled down from a sky painted in soft blue, with wisps of cloud like silk floating gently across. Below, the open ground was covered in cloth, and many people were busy at work. There wasn’t the slightest wind in this small city of Xianning, yet someone was still shaking out a bolt of fabric, making a muffled poof poof sound. The sound had traveled from quite far, softened by the distance. It was like the echoing thuds of someone beating clothes by a stream beyond the village; it didn’t disturb sleep, but rather soothed the heart. Much of the cloth was stunningly beautiful; they were so exquisite that they took one’s breath away. “The weather’s really good today.” “It is!” The cat tilted her head upward. In that posture, it was easy for her to look at the Daoist with her back still facing him. She then asked, “Are we going to visit Lady Chai?” “Lady Calico is exceedingly clever.” “Allow me to wash up first...” The Daoist withdrew his gaze from the window and began his morning routine. After washing and combing his hair, changing into clean clothes, and tidying up his appearance, he went downstairs for breakfast. Once he had eaten, he headed out. Next to the inn was a narrow alleyway, which was only a few chi wide. On one side stood a tall courtyard wall, the same wall that enclosed the open space he’d seen from the window of his upstairs room. There was a door set into the courtyard wall, but no house plaque. Instead, there was a flag that read, “Yang Family Cloth Workshop.” Judging by the setup, this was likely the entrance used by the workers, not the residential quarters of the Yang family. So he continued walking. The Daoist circled around a fair distance, nearly ending up on the opposite side of the entire district, before he finally saw a large residence. A plaque on the gate read, Yang Residence. The Daoist pressed his lips together and knocked on the door. After a while, a servant came to open it. “Sir, who are you looking for?” Seeing he was a Daoist, the servant appeared both suspicious and respectful. Instantly, two contradictory expressions flickered across his face. “Does Lady Chai live here?” “What business do you have with our Lady Chai?” The servant examined him carefully. “If you’ve come because of some strange rumor, hoping to resolve a mystery, I must inform you that Lady Chai is now married to my young master and does not receive guests lightly. However, I can direct you to another person, a fellow townsman of hers, who also lives in the city not far from here. She’s a bit older and more talkative.” His tone was polite and his speech practiced, so he had clearly said this many times before. But Lady Chai clearly did not refuse all visitors. Otherwise, that person by the roadside wouldn’t have claimed to have seen her. “There’s been a misunderstanding. It’s true that we heard the rumors and came because of them, but not to investigate or satisfy curiosity. We’re old acquaintances of the Lady and have come to visit an old friend,” Song You said politely. “Please pass along the message that a Daoist surnamed Song is here to see her, accompanied by a cat. He claims to be an old acquaintance, and says her grandfather’s name is Chai Xueyi.” “...” The servant was momentarily stunned. The Daoist’s tone and demeanor were both sincere, and he didn’t seem to be lying. And he even named the Lady’s grandfather. Whether it was true or not, or whether this name had somehow been passed around outside, the servant didn’t know. In fact, he didn’t even know the name of the Lady’s grandfather. Come to think of it, there were indeed a few other people in the city who were considered fellow townsfolk of hers, more or less. They hadn’t originally known each other, but had become close here. Most of them were quite old, having arrived many years ago, but he’d never heard of such a young Daoist before. This man looked even younger than the young master of the house and younger than the Lady herself. “...” The servant thought for a moment, then said, “Please wait here.” With that, he shut the door and hurried inside. Before long, the door opened again. This time, standing behind the servant was a graceful and elegant woman, her figure lithe and her appearance charming. She wore fine garments made from luxurious fabric, adorned with silver ornaments, clearly dressed with care. Her brows were furrowed as she stood behind the servant, her expression complicated. Her expression was part anticipation, part doubt, part excitement, and part disbelief as she looked toward the Daoist standing at the door. As the servant had said, he was indeed a very young Daoist. His face looked vaguely familiar, but far too youthful. The woman stood frozen, not daring to believe it was truly him, until her gaze dropped and caught sight of the calico cat crouched at the Daoist’s feet. The cat had been licking its paw but had paused mid-motion, now lifting its head to stare directly at her. Only then did the memories from ten years ago slowly come into focus. The emotions in her eyes shifted, and hesitation and doubt melted away into awe and disbelief. “Lady Chai. It has been many years. Are you well?” the Daoist greeted her with a respectful bow and spoke with a gentle tone. “Daoist Master! It really is you!” “I hadn’t expected you would make it out... nor that I’d hear word of you here, and see you again in this place.” Song You’s voice remained calm. “Have you grown accustomed to life... out here?” That simple question seemed to stir her memories, and perhaps awakened the bitterness she’d carried all these years. At last, she’d found someone she could confide in, someone who had once stayed in her family’s home. All at once, she could no longer hold back. Her eyes reddened as she stepped forward instinctively, as if to reach out and steady herself on him like she would a trusted elder or kin. But then she remembered she was a married woman now, and that this place had far stricter propriety than her hometown, so she withdrew her hand with reluctance and quietly wiped her tears. Her carefully applied makeup was already ruined. The Daoist, too, felt a deep wave of emotion. Back then, in the mountain village depicted in the painting seemingly called Xiaobei Village, he first met the three younger members of the Chai family at an old farmer’s home. The two girls were still quite young at the time, just in their teens, and now they were already married women. People matured early in this era and aged quickly. Getting married and having children aged them even faster. This Lady Chai must now be nearing thirty, and the phrase “mature beauty” was often used to describe women just around that age. “Daoist Master! Please, do come in!” Lady Chai hurriedly invited him into the courtyard. Then she turned to the servant beside her, gave a slight bow, and said, “Please inform the young master that an important guest has arrived, someone who must be properly received.” The servant stood dumbfounded for a moment, his expression flickering. He recalled how, whenever guests came to the house, this Lady Chai would sometimes recount a certain story, sometimes briefly, sometimes in detail. The household staff had overheard it on occasion, and had grown familiar with it. In that story... there was a Daoist. They said he was an immortal. And, it seemed... that Daoist had a cat with him, too. Now, seeing Lady Chai’s reaction in person... “Yes, ma’am!” The servant didn’t dare delay and quickly turned to go.