The vegetarian meal at Jingzhao Nunnery was simple: a bowl of coarse grain and mixed rice. It was this year’s new harvest, and it was still carrying a strong, fragrant aroma. Plus, there was a small bowl of crisp and refreshing pickled radish, as well as a small plate of brined vegetables, with a pleasant aftertaste. Altogether, it was a light yet appetizing meal. Paired with a cup of coarse tea, it was the kind of meal typical of life cultivating the Dao in the mountains. Song You crunched down on a piece of radish with a crisp snap. Then he scooped up a bite of soft, steaming rice. As the hot food entered his stomach, his body began to warm. Lady Chai, on the other hand, kept her head down and quietly ate without a word. It seemed that since coming here, she had learned quite a bit. At times, Song You found it hard to connect the woman before him now with the farm girl she had once been. She used to be clad in coarse cloth, with rough skin, and she was shy yet bold and outspoken. Only after they finished eating did Lady Chai take out a handkerchief to dab her mouth, then turn to the Daoist and ask, “Master, you travel the world so freely, how long do you plan to stay in Xianning this time?” “I’ll stay a few more days while the weather holds. Once it turns cold and harder to bear, I’ll move on.” “And where will you go next?” “I’ll head south of Yunzhou,” Song You answered truthfully. “I’ve heard there’s a place down there that the locals believe to be the edge of the world. It’s full of life and vitality, with magnificent landscapes. Some even say a true dragon has been seen rising from behind the mountains, bathing in the sea of clouds. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I plan to go see for myself.” “A true dragon?” Lady Chai frowned slightly. “What is it?” Song You asked. “Since marrying into the Yang family, I’ve often met visiting guests at our home. Some are of very high status, and others are fond of traveling, searching for immortals or strange phenomena. Whenever they visit, they ask me to tell stories about my hometown,” Lady Chai said, frowning in thought. “I think I’ve heard some of them mention a mountain with a true dragon... and something about a red river.” “That must be it,” Song You nodded. “I’ve also heard of a red river.” “But it seems it’s very hard to find. Some of those guests are merchants who travel there yearly, and some are scholars who go to sightsee, but even when they try to search deliberately, they often can’t find it.” “Can’t find the dragon, or can’t find the path?” “Both. Some make it to the place, wait on the mountain from sunrise to sunset, and still don’t see a dragon. Others arrive only to find a mountain range with no discernible path leading up.” “The mountain paths are indeed difficult to find...” “And many of the mountain folk there don’t speak our language. Even money sometimes won’t work. Without a guide, it’s nearly impossible to make it through.” “True enough...” Song You nodded thoughtfully, his mind already mulling over these details. He'd heard that over there, it was all mountains. He heard that there were layer upon layer of them, and that they were densely forested. For an ordinary person in such terrain, they would be but a speck amid the vast wilderness. Finding a path up the mountain would indeed be a challenge. However, with the swallow traveling alongside him, things might be different. The swallow had always been clever, and he had the advantage of flight. If it were only a matter of finding a path upward, it shouldn't be too difficult. The main problem lay in the sheer scale of the mountain range. He had no idea where the so-called place of the dragon's ascension was. And even if he did, the villages scattered among the mountains weren't gathered into proper towns or cities. They had no landmark structures. Even with a bird’s-eye view, a swallow wouldn't be able to tell one place from another. The language barrier would make asking for directions nearly impossible. As for money being useless, that was less of a concern. Lady Calico would never let him starve in the wilderness, and the swallow certainly wouldn’t let him die of thirst in the mountains. Traveling the world with food and drink never a worry was his way. “Since you wish to go,” Lady Chai said, “then once I return, I’ll ask around to find out where that place actually is, and how to get there. If I learn anything, I’ll come to tell you.” “Thank you,” said Song You. “Don’t mention it. It’s I who should thank you for today’s meeting.” Lady Chai rose and bowed slightly, then hesitated for a moment before looking at him again. “If... if one day you return to my hometown and happen to see my parents, and if they’re still there, please tell them I’m doing well, and that I’ve had a son. His name is Yang Qing.” Song You chatted with her a while longer before they finally parted. Lady Chai stayed at the nunnery to chant scriptures and pay respects to the Buddha, an act of devotion common among sincere pilgrims. As for Song You, now that he had a warm meal in his belly, he intended to make use of the energy and continue climbing the mountain. By mid-afternoon, he had reached the summit. It was already deep autumn. Under the blazing sun at the mountain's base, it felt like early summer, but up here at the peak, the cold wind bit like winter. Still, the view below remained vast and open; one could see very far. The city of Xianning, which was once the capital of a local kingdom and quite expansive, now looked from here like a small square tile embedded in the earth. The lake, which locals proudly called the “sea,” was now no more than a little pond. Even the tall, imposing mountains across the water seemed flatter and gentler. The earth was still golden. Clouds hovered at the same height as he was, casting shadows upon the land below. Song You sat and let the wind blow past him as he scanned the landscape, trying to spot his little one. Whether she was fishing by the lake or dueling the demon monk along the shore, from this vantage point, he couldn't make out anything clearly. After searching for a while, it was clear he’d only admired the scenery, nothing more. Gradually, the cold seeped into his body. The Daoist had originally intended to take a nap on the mountaintop and live half a day like a celestial, but it was simply too cold. So, he got up and began walking about to keep warm. In the painted world, most people entered from the lake’s edge or the southern and northern borders. To the west was Mount Cang, which was tall and treacherous. Few ever bothered to climb it, as the mountaintop edge was dangerously steep. Even if someone made it to the top, they wouldn’t randomly wander to the very edge of the slope without good reason. However, back then, Lady Calico had slipped through a fence and reached the edge of the painted world. If the timing had been just right, she might have inadvertently walked out of that world, and if she had, she would’ve come out around here. The Daoist leaned on his bamboo staff and walked slowly to the cliff’s edge. His feet brushed through dried mountain grass as he moved forward step by step, quietly trying to sense something. In the unseen depths of the world, it felt as though there was a thin and tenuous line, but he could neither see it nor touch it. In the world within the painting, this line was clear and distinct. Anyone could feel it, yet it was insurmountable. It seemed that this line also had a certain influence on reality. The Daoist walked almost precisely along this line. Unconsciously, the line seemed to become clearer in his perception. He felt as if he had truly touched the intersection between the real world and the painted world. At times, he couldn’t even tell whether he was walking in reality or inside the painting. When he paused and looked into the distance, the scenery grew hazy, as if it belonged not to the present day, but to centuries past. Unfortunately, the moment he stood still and his mind cleared even slightly, everything snapped back to reality. Even so, the Daoist was content. This was all thanks to the token granted by Kong Daizhao back in the day, and to Master Dou’s invitation into the painting, which had given him such insight. So he continued forward, quietly sensing the line, as well as the boundary between two worlds, and also the marvel of a small world born out of clever artifice. His initial perceptions grew sharper, his understanding of the Dao deepened with every step. It was, in a sense, a kind of cultivation. Unknowingly, dusk had arrived. The sun now hovered above the peaks of the mountain range beside him, ready to set at any moment. The boundary line grew both sharper and more indistinct. Sharper in that the Daoist could keenly feel its presence; more indistinct in that he was increasingly unsure whether he was still in the real world or already within the painting. It felt as though one more step forward, and he would no longer know where his foot would land. If he could remain here long enough to meditate, Song You even felt he might be able to re-enter the painted world in reverse from reality. Naturally, this would be possible for him alone. The sky had darkened; lights flickered on across the homes at the foot of the mountain. By now, the main support of his household had likely already returned to the inn. If he stayed any longer, Lady Calico might begin to think he’d gotten lost in the mountains, or that something bad had happened, and start to worry. Song You shook his head with a smile and decisively turned to leave. In the dimming twilight, he felt his way down the mountain. Not long after he walked away, the soft fluttering of wings sounded above his head. A swallow had come looking for him. Most likely, Lady Calico had started to worry as well. Unknowingly, another month had passed. Xianning was gradually growing colder. But the weather in Xianning was mostly good. As long as the sun was shining, it still felt warm in the daylight. The most noticeable change was how cold it had become at night. It was colder when getting up in the middle of the night, and especially cold in the early morning. Sometimes, walking through narrow alleys that sunlight couldn’t reach, the chill clung to the skin, and it truly felt like the depths of winter. On a rare overcast day, most of the land by the lakeside was shrouded in cloud cover. Only a few scattered spots still basked in the sun. A child sat by the roadside, herding cattle, a stalk of sugarcane in hand. He was bundled in layers of ragged thick clothing, yet he didn’t seem to mind at all. He was contentedly curled up on the ground, gnawing on his sugarcane. He seemed to have few worries. Suddenly, he heard a strange sound from far away. “...?” The child looked puzzled and turned his head, but he couldn’t see anything. He stood up, yet he still couldn’t see, so he climbed a tree. Clutching the sugarcane, cheeks red from the cold, the boy perched in the tree and looked off into the distance, only to freeze in shock. Far away on the open land, a golden stone giant, taller than a house and shimmering all over, was locked in battle with the Headless Monk. Although the monk was tall and powerfully built, he looked small compared to the golden giant. Their fight was fierce, the clashing of stone and strength echoing loudly. That golden stone giant truly looked like a Mountain God. The child’s eyes widened in astonishment. Strangely, upon seeing that dazzling giant of golden stone, he suddenly remembered the person who had traded a piece of golden stone for his sugarcane more than a month ago. That day, he had thought it was real gold. He’d run home, full of excitement, and told his parents he had traded sugarcane for a chunk of gold, that it could even repel rats. But when he pulled it out, it turned out to be just an ordinary rock. It felt like a rock, too. His parents scolded him severely, calling him a fool. That had been one of the few times he’d felt any sorrow back then. Still, he was stubborn and held onto the stone. He didn’t throw it away. Strangely enough, ever since then, he really hadn’t seen any rats in the house. The battle in the distance grew even fiercer. It was as if a tale of gods and immortals had come to life before his very eyes. The child, equal parts thrilled and frightened, hurriedly slid down the tree. He only occasionally poked his head out to take a look and saw that the Headless Monk seemed to be losing to the golden stone giant. Not long after, the sounds of battle vanished. The child, both frightened and confused, was driven by curiosity to climb the tree once more and take a glance in that direction, only to see nothing at all. The golden stone giant that looked like a Mountain God was gone, and the legendary Headless Monk had also disappeared. Suddenly, he heard another round of heavy footsteps. The ground trembled with every step. The child turned his head and saw a massive golden figure emerge from the nearby forest. Broad-shouldered, thick-waisted, with arms that hung past its knees, it stood nearly as tall as the towering, straight dawn redwoods nearby, and was walking toward him step by step. What shocked him even more was that on the giant’s shoulder sat a figure dressed in a robe of three colors. The giant stopped right in front of him. The small tree the child sat on didn’t even reach the height of the giant. The giant leaned forward slightly, and the girl sitting on its shoulder naturally lowered her head, looking down at him. She tilted her head and stared at the sugarcane in his hand. “You again, huh? Why do you have another sugarcane?”