Outside the window, the clouds were tinged a peachy pink by the setting sun. It was mesmerizing, yet light and delicate rather than garish. Behind the inn, bolts of cloth fluttered sharply in the wind from the textile workshop. In a room on the second floor of the inn, the Daoist and the cat were in deep conversation. “Lady Calico, your Boulder Legion can already be considered a minor success,” Song You said. “Even if you were to face a battalion of seasoned troops, unless there were men among them skilled enough to shatter bricks and split stone, or unless they had catapults, they’d hardly stand a chance against the Mountain God you summoned. Even when matched against cultivators, it’s rare these days for anyone to easily deal with such a stone giant.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “But even with stone giants of equal size, there are still differences in strength. Some are stronger and swifter, others are weaker and slower. That all depends on one’s own cultivation, skill, and mastery of the spell.” “Very impressive,” the Daoist said. “With more practice, they’ll become even more impressive.” “And when Boulder Transformation is used alongside Boulder Legion, the stone of the Mountain God turns into golden steel, which is heavier and sturdier. This also tests the Mountain God’s strength. Otherwise, he won’t even be able to move.” “No wonder my Mountain God became tougher, but also slower!” “You still need more practice.” “And then there’s the matter of the Boulder Transformation spell itself,” the Daoist said slowly. “The same amount of magical power, depending on how proficient you are, how deep your understanding goes, determines not just how large an area you can cover, but how hard that golden steel becomes, and how long it lasts. All of it must be practiced little by little.” “Then when will I finally be able to beat that monk?” “I suppose,” said Song You, “once you reaches the point where a single gesture, a single glimmer of golden light, can fully envelop the entire stone giant. That Headless Monk, even with his boundless strength and indestructible body, will no longer be able to break apart a giant made entirely of golden stone. When your spell lasts longer, you’ll be unshakable. When the golden steel becomes harder, you’ll gain the upper hand. And once the Boulder Legion spell is refined to the point where even a full-gold giant can move freely, then you’ll be able to defeat that monk with ease.” Song You paused again and said, “Lady Calico, you should understand that no matter how strong the demons summoned with the Demon Flag are, it’s the demon that’s strong, and it’s the artifact that’s powerful. But the Mountain God you summon is different. Just like your fire arts, which you’ve practiced for many years, it’s you who are powerful.” “Understood!” The cat’s expression was serious and meticulous, not the slightest bit sloppy. “We’ve been in Xianning for over half a month now and haven’t even climbed Mount Cang. I’m thinking of heading up tomorrow to have a vegetarian meal at that nunnery on the mountain. Want to come?” “I have to go fishing, practice spells, and protect travelers so they don’t get killed by that monk,” the cat said, standing squarely on the table, fully immersed in her role. “You go by yourself.” Fishing to make money, practicing magic to slowly grow stronger, and protecting the people... It was simply impossible for her to turn down any part of that. The temptation was just too great. What a pity, there were so many seagulls by the lake, flying overhead all day, squawking constantly, yet she couldn’t catch and eat any of them just because she knew a swallow. If only she could, how joyful that would be. After a bit more chatting, the man and the cat finally headed downstairs. As usual, the Daoist borrowed the inn’s kitchen, took the largest fish Lady Calico had brought back, scaled and gutted it, washed it clean, then sliced it into thin fillets. He used a generous amount of Sichuan peppercorns and made a big pot of numbing-spicy fish. Once it was cooked, he laid chopped scallions, ginger, and chili peppers on top, then poured a ladle of hot oil over it. “Sizzle!” Golden bubbles of oil surged across the entire dish, and a rich aroma filled the room at once. “I’ll pay you for the oil,” he said. “No, no, of course not! Sir, please help yourself. It’s all on me,” the innkeeper replied hurriedly. “I’ll even throw in a bowl of coarse grain rice. As long as you don't mind if I secretly learn a few things from your cooking.” Song You only smiled at that and said nothing more. Why would he be stingy with a skill ? Once the dish was served, the innkeeper indeed brought over a bowl of mixed-grain dry rice, set the table, and called the cat over to eat together. Outside, night had already fallen. The inn’s business was doing well during the day. The innkeeper enjoyed experimenting with cooking, and his skills were decent, using quality ingredients with a clear conscience. Many people came just to eat, even if they weren’t staying overnight. The fish Lady Calico caught each day was usually sold out by the next. But unexpectedly, even at this hour, there were still guests dining in the downstairs hall. They were a group of merchants. Under the dim oil lamps, the merchants sat in the center of the hall, which was the brightest spot, relatively speaking. Yet even there, the flickering light made their faces look shadowed and deep-set. The Daoist also sat down nearby, took Lady Calico’s special-use bowl, and began serving her pieces of fish. The merchants beside him were still shaken, talking in low voices. They were discussing the incident at the lakeside earlier that day. “Didn’t they say the Headless Monk always asks people if his head is still on his neck every time he appears? How come this time it was different?” “Good thing it worked anyway...” “I was scared half to death...” The innkeeper overheard them and, curious, walked over to ask more. The group grew even more animated in their discussion. Only the Daoist sat quietly to the side, with a calico cat perched on the corner of the table. Under the dim oil lamp, she was barely visible, eating numbingly spicy fish and coarse grain rice while listening to the merchants' conversation. The cat often lowered her head, almost burying her face into the bowl as she licked the fish meat, but now and then she would lift her head, smacking her lips and glancing toward the merchants. Her feline face was unreadable, and no one knew what she felt as she listened to them talk. Naturally, the merchants didn’t recognize her either. “What’s that delicious smell...” “It’s from the table next to us.” “Sir, may I ask what that gentleman is eating? It smells incredible.” “Oh sir, I’m so sorry, what that gentleman is eating was made by himself. Our inn doesn’t serve that dish,” the innkeeper replied quickly. “And frankly, we couldn’t make it even if we wanted to.” “Ah, I see... That’s a shame.” “These days even cats are dining at the table.” Many of the merchants glanced toward the Daoist, and then at the especially beautiful calico cat sitting on the table. The pattern of her fur was strikingly similar to the tri-colored clothing worn by that little girl during the day. But even so, no one made the connection between her and the girl, or the “cat” mentioned by the Headless Monk. The cat, too, remained calm and indifferent, head lowered, eating her fish. No one could guess what she was really thinking. When Song You awoke, his Lady Calico was already gone. She had likely gone out to earn a living, and perhaps, while she was at it, exorcise a few demons. As usual, the Daoist pushed open the window and took a look outside. The view hadn’t changed; the weather, too, was almost exactly like it had been for the past half-month. The sky was a clear blue with pale, drifting clouds. It was a little cool inside the room, which made it easy to imagine the pleasant warmth of the sun outside. It was a perfect day for an outing. Unfortunately, he would be going alone. The Daoist pressed his lips together, closed the window, did a bit of washing up, grabbed his bamboo staff, and headed downstairs. He ate a bowl of braised pork rice vermicelli, asked the innkeeper for directions up the mountain, and brought along an extra flatbread before heading out. The street in front of the inn connected Xianning’s west gate and east gate, called the Mountain Gate and the Sea Gate. Because the lake outside the city was so large, the locals often referred to it as the “sea.” He followed the road uphill, exiting through the west gate. The slope became noticeably steeper. Continuing upward past the west gate would bring him to the foot of the mountain. There were quite a few villages nestled at the base. Song You walked slowly, taking his time to pass through and observe each one. When he was in the world within the painting, he had also visited the foot of the mountain. Back then, there were likewise many villages at the base. But looking at them now, they were only roughly similar. They were alike from a distance, but upon closer inspection, not much was the same at all. The people living there were completely different as well. Only the mountain path seemed to remain in more or less the same place. The Daoist passed through the villages and began climbing the narrow path. The incline grew steeper and steeper. He paused occasionally to catch his breath and look back, only then realizing how high he’d already climbed. Below, the golden fields stretched out across the land, with the neatly laid-out city of Xianning, the long ribbon of lake, and the mountain range on the far side all clearly visible. Even though there hadn’t been any rain, a rainbow stretched across the sky. It was a breathtakingly beautiful and expansive view. Song You instinctively turned his head to glance beside him, only to remember that today, he was alone. No wonder the journey felt so dull. There wasn’t even anyone to share it with. It seemed he had already grown used to traveling with Lady Calico. Song You shook his head and continued upward. This mountain climb truly did feel especially dull, even duller than the climbs he’d taken within the painting. Though the deep autumn scenery was similar when he looked back, it just wasn’t the same without that small creature bounding ahead, dashing back, hopping and chattering. Without all those sounds, something felt missing. Unexpectedly, a small smile appeared on Song You’s face. From a different perspective, he found himself faintly experiencing what ordinary people must feel when they raise a child, becoming used to their presence, only to watch them slowly grow up and drift away. It truly was hard to get used to. Fortunately, the nunnery was only halfway up the mountain, not too far away. As the Daoist approached the temple, he turned his head to look around. In the painting, there had also been a structure in roughly the same location, but it was a Daoist temple, not a Buddhist one. Perhaps, many years ago when Master Dou was creating the painting, there had indeed been a Daoist temple on the mountain. Or perhaps Master Dou wasn’t sure whether it was a Daoist temple or a Buddhist monastery. Or perhaps Master Dou had originally painted a Buddhist temple, but since he’d never seen the real one, only captured its general shape, and later, a Daoist who entered the painting had altered it into a Daoist temple. Now that Song You saw the real one, the difference was quite clear. Aside from both being nestled halfway up the mountain, half-hidden among thick woods, they didn’t resemble each other much at all. Soon, he arrived at the temple gate. “Jingzhao Nunnery...” The Daoist paused at the entrance, looking at the couplets on either side of the gate. They read, “Neglect the small good, and great virtue won’t grow; Let small evils slip, and great wrongs will follow.” The calligraphy was quite good. Because the temple was located up in the mountains, which was a fair distance from the city, and with the more renowned Three Pagodas Monastery situated at the foot of the mountain, this place didn’t receive many pilgrims. However, the scenery was beautiful, and there were still a few visitors inside. Dressed in his Daoist robes, Song You drew immediate attention upon entering. One of the nuns took special care to accompany him, asking where he had come from and what brought him here, likely showing concern for someone of the same path. When she heard that he had only come to enjoy the scenery, burn some incense, and have a vegetarian meal, she finally relaxed. Still, she gave him three sticks of incense, and when he later inquired about offering a donation for the meal, she stopped him, saying, “You’re a fellow renunciant, so we won’t take your money.” That worked out nicely, and it saved him a bit of money. Lady Calico would surely be pleased to hear that. Unfortunately, she wasn’t here either. The Daoist shook his head and wandered around the nunnery. When the midday bell rang, he made his way to the Hall of Five Observances to eat. It was a modest room, but bright. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting golden light through drifting motes of dust. Several square tables were arranged inside, each with simple black-lacquered benches. Around ten people were seated. To his surprise, Song You spotted a familiar face. “Lady Chai? What are you doing here?” “Daoist Master Song! You’re here too?” Lady Chai was seated at a table farther inside, bathed in sunlight. She seemed to be a frequent visitor. Beside her sat a maidservant, along with a nun who appeared to be accompanying her. “I came to enjoy the scenery,” Song You said, “and to visit the temple as well.” “Daoist Master Song, please come and sit with me.” “Then I shall respectfully accept.” There weren’t many formalities in the temple, and vegetarian meals were meant to be eaten communally. When it was busy, everyone had to sit together anyway. Besides, Song You was in Daoist robes and an old acquaintance of hers, so there was even less need for ceremony. He walked over and sat down, then asked why she had come. “Daoist Master, you may not know,” Lady Chai said with a sigh, “but after you left our hometown, my elder sister, younger brother, and I often went to the mountain temple to play. Now that we’ve come here, though there’s no Daoist temple, I still find myself wanting to come visit. At the very least, the view halfway up the mountain is about the same.” She sighed again and continued, “Lately, my husband has been so caught up in his studies he won’t eat properly and fell ill. I came here to pray, hoping the Buddha might bless him with good health and success in the exams.” “Not eating properly truly isn’t good.” “Alas...” Lady Chai sighed once more, speaking helplessly, “It’s partly his own fault, as he’s too obsessed with studying. He often locks himself in the study upstairs, or goes to the lakeside pavilion to read. It’s exhausting. I have to bring food to him, and even then, he frequently forgets to eat. By the time he does, the food’s already gone cold. If it’s rice vermicelli, it’s long since soaked and gone mushy. He can’t eat well, and it wears him out. His body is weak to begin with...” “That’s true.” Song You sat there thinking for a moment, then said, “I might have an idea.” “I heard it somewhere else,” Song You said with a smile. “In some places, they make rice vermicelli with chicken broth, which is rich and nourishing. But someone clever came up with a method: instead of skimming off the oil from the soup, they let it float on top. The thicker, the better. Then they cook the rice vermicelli separately and serve it in a small bowl, without mixing it in. That layer of chicken oil floating on top keeps the broth hot for a long time. When it’s time to eat, you just add the rice vermicelli, and they heat up almost instantly. You can even crack an egg in, or add other side dishes. It’s convenient and very flavorful.” Lady Chai thought it over and realized it sounded quite practical. Her expression brightened. “I came up the mountain to pray, hoping for a blessing from the Buddha. Who would’ve thought I’d run into you instead, Daoist Master? That’s a blessing in itself.” She stood up and gave him a proper bow. “I’ll try it as soon as I get back.” “It’s just something I heard elsewhere.” “Regardless, thank you, Daoist Master.” “If it spreads far and wide, even better.” As they chatted, a nun came over carrying the vegetarian meal.