The group continued their ascent, climbing higher and higher, and signs of human habitation gradually began to appear in the mountains. At first, it was just the occasional wooden cabin or thatched hut, either perched on mountaintops or hidden in forest clearings. According to Mr. Liu, most of these were dwellings of recluses living and cultivating in the mountains. Some were disillusioned talents who, having failed to find recognition in the world below, came to the mountains to escape society; some had grown weary of worldly life and came here to live a tranquil life akin to the one in the poem, “I pluck chrysanthemums by the eastern fence, And in quiet ease, glimpse the southern hills[1].” Others came for the rich spiritual energy and the natural marvels, seeking a place of seclusion to practice Daoism, Buddhism, or to pursue their own studies. Some had more desperate reasons; they were landless and homeless in the lowlands, and were burdened by taxes or driven into hardship by other circumstances, such as having committed crimes like murder or arson. Thus, they had no choice but to hide deep within the uninhabited mountains. There were also those who came simply because the area was well-known. All of Yunzhou knew this mountain was home to many recluses, and those recluses were said to possess great learning and talent. So some came just to borrow that fame and use it to elevate their own reputation. With so many recluses, there was inevitably a mix of characters. Some were truly talented and learned; while some were mediocre and foolish, and there were even some with shady pasts. Their reasons for coming were as varied as their backgrounds. Where there were huts, there were also fields. At first, the fields were scattered, often found in front of or behind the dwellings. But the further they climbed, the more terraced fields they saw, gradually covering the steep mountainsides. These mountains were truly vast and towering, yet aside from near-vertical cliffs, every cun that could be cultivated had been carved into farmland. The terraces stretched upward layer by layer, step by step. On gentler slopes, the terraces were broader; on steeper inclines, they were narrower. They looked like a staircase built for the gods leading to the mountain’s summit. As Song You followed Mr. Liu upward at a slow pace, his body leaned forward with the incline of the trail. Mr. Liu, not in great physical condition to begin with, especially struggled on these steep mountain paths. He would frequently stop after only a short distance, resting with his hands on his knees and panting for breath. Beads of sweat the size of peas dripped from his face onto the dirt trail. The long sword at his waist, originally just a decorative piece, now seemed like a burden. Thus, the others always stopped to wait for him. Song You wasn’t in any hurry. Whenever this happened, he would simply stand up straight and take in the breathtaking scenery all around them. Meanwhile, the cat at his feet mimicked him almost exactly. At some point, the terraced fields had become overwhelming in number, starting from scattered patches, to covering half a mountain, to cloaking entire peaks and every visible slope. Even the distant mountaintops no longer appeared smooth and rounded, but had become jagged like the teeth of a great saw that were shaped into stairs. These majestic, endless mountains had been chiseled and sculpted by human hands into an entirely different silhouette. The scale was enormous, and its grandeur was soul-stirring and awe-inspiring. In this season after the autumn harvest and before the spring planting, every terrace was filled with water in preparation for the coming year’s crops. These water-filled terraces had become like mirrors embedded across the mountains, reflecting the blue sky above, turning blue themselves. When they reflected clouds, they shimmered with shifting colors. Sometimes, they reflected the trees beside them, or farmers in straw hats leading water buffalo along the ridges. The result was a landscape both majestic and delicate, filled with grandeur but also touched by a quiet gentleness.[2] This was the masterpiece of generations of the mountain people, a living record of agrarian civilization that showed how humanity had gone from struggling against nature to living in harmony with it. It was art shaped by the cooperation of humans and nature itself, more powerful in expressing the greatness of human achievement than any imperial palace. The travelers standing within this landscape seemed incredibly small, like mere specks in a vast and glorious painting. A breeze stirred, rustling the Daoist’s robes. “Up ahead...” Mr. Liu bent over, pointing to a very tall mountain in the distance. “Once we cross that one and walk a bit farther, we’ll reach Bashu.” “Alright...” The Daoist withdrew his gaze from the distance. So too did the cat, who had been standing like a person, surveying the view from the mountainside. As if sensing each other, they turned their heads at the same time and exchanged a glance. At this time, a smile tugged at the Daoist’s lips. At some point, the little cat who once didn’t understand why he always climbed mountains, who had no idea what beauty lay in the views from above, had learned to appreciate the scenery too. Though, what the cat was thinking at that moment, he couldn’t guess. “Let’s keep moving. Truly, I’ve been dragging you down,” said the middle-aged man as he walked, panting slightly. “Once we reach Bashu, I’ll be heading off with Mr. Shi and these three lads to collect silkworm threads. If you're interested in seeing more, you’re welcome to come along. But since you came seeking the dragon, I’d suggest you stay in Bashu and find a place sheltered from wind and rain. If you come across any reclusive cultivators on the mountain, it’s best to ask to stay with them. If not, I can find a villager’s home for you. Though it may lack a certain elegance, it is, at the very least, a place to stay.” He sighed between words, clearly exhausted. “Please don’t say that, Mr. Liu,” Song You replied sincerely. “You’ve already done us a great kindness by letting us accompany you and acting as our guide. I wouldn’t dare trouble you further. Once we reach Bashu, we’ll simply camp somewhere ourselves.” “Camp? That won’t do,” Mr. Liu said, frowning. “It may be hot under the sun during the day, but the nights are bitterly cold. And in the early mornings, the mist in the mountains is thick. Camping out like that isn’t ideal.” “There’s no need to worry,” Song You said. “We’ve traveled far and wide. We’re long used to sleeping rough, no matter how harsh the conditions.” “If you’re going to camp, then you’ll need to find the best viewing spot possible. We’ll absolutely go with you first, help find the right location, and remember the way. The true dragon usually appears at dawn. I’ll come find you before sunrise every morning, and we’ll wait for the dragon together. After that, I’ll head into the villages to collect silk.” “Then let’s do that,” the Daoist agreed, continuing up the mountain beside him. With the vast stretches of terraced fields came villages, mostly hidden within the forests. These were old, humble dwellings, such as mud huts and thatched houses, but they were different from those found at the foot of the mountain. Here, each house was short and small, made of thick mud walls with deeply layered thatched roofs. They were clustered together into courtyards, and the courtyards into villages, like a scattering of mushrooms growing out of the mountains. As they walked, the cat suddenly stopped in its tracks. It seemed to have sensed something. It looked back at the saddlebags on the horse, then turned to look at the Daoist. The Daoist met her gaze without saying a word. But he had sensed it too; four of the Five-Directions Spiritual Resonance in the saddlebag had stirred. The last one... was indeed hidden in these mountains. “The southern region of Yunzhou...” The southern part of Yunzhou was a land of layer upon layer of great mountains. Though it wasn’t known for many strange or extraordinary places, Song You had already traveled through a fair portion of it. Along the way, none of the four of the Five-Directions Spiritual Resonance had shown any signs of reacting until now. Arriving here had, as expected, triggered a sign. The final spiritual resonance must be aligned with the wood element. However, though this mountain was rich in spiritual energy and its aura quite unique, it still didn’t seem so extraordinary as to be the birthplace of a new spiritual resonance. With doubts lingering in his mind, the Daoist continued forward. Just before dusk, he finally climbed to the mountaintop. At the summit, the view opened up dramatically. This was unmistakably the highest peak among the entire mountain range. All the terraced fields now lay below his feet. His vantage point had become one of looking down, allowing him to clearly and objectively see the steep and treacherous terrain. He found himself even more in awe of how people had carved farmland out of such mountains. Looking around, the scenery no longer held the delicate beauty of walking through the terraced fields or the serenity of watching their mirrored reflections ripple in the wind. Yet everything in sight was still terraced farmland, stretching across the entire world. It was vast like the mountains and the sea, overwhelming in its grandeur, and an assault on the senses. “But if the villages are up here on the summit while the fields are halfway down the mountain, wouldn’t going up and down every day for farming be exhausting?” “There are villages nestled within the mountains too,” Mr. Liu replied as he wiped sweat from his brow. “But it’s still exhausting. For a farmer, life is never easy.” “This here is Bashu.” Mr. Liu pointed ahead as they walked. “If you face east and keep walking until you can’t go any farther, which is the cliff’s edge, you’ll see a sea of gathered clouds. That’s where the dragon rises. Let me take you to the best viewing spot.” Walking atop the ridge was easier now. Though Mr. Liu was visibly exhausted, he didn’t complain or stop. He still insisted on leading Song You forward. Soon, they arrived at the cliff’s edge. They had come up from the western slope of Bashu, where the incline was relatively gentler, though even that had required crossing range after range, each higher than the last. But to the east, it was a sheer, towering cliff; it was so steep it was as if the entire mountain range had been abruptly split open. Looking down from the summit, the first ten or so zhang of descent was still just steep enough that the hardy mountain folk had managed to carve out a few terraces. But beyond that, it was nearly vertical, with only a few tenacious grasses and shrubs clinging to the rock face. The terraced fields ended abruptly at that edge. “Do you see that patch of terraces down there?” Mr. Liu said, pointing. “Every year before spring, we come here to wait for the dragon to appear. This is where we watch. Some wait here on the summit. Some recluses even invite friends to drink and celebrate as they wait. But I prefer the lower level, that’s where you’re closest to the sea of clouds.” Hearing this, Song You lowered his head and looked down... As Mr. Liu had said, the cliff below was so deep that one couldn't tell how far it descended. Thick clouds had gathered there like a sea, or perhaps a vast pool. In the distance, more billowing clouds rolled endlessly. And it wasn’t just this single mountain beneath their feet. In the distance, there was another stretch of mountains. Though slightly shorter than those in Bashu, the difference wasn’t all that great. Their summits pierced through the clouds while their slopes remained submerged in the sea of mist. Together, they formed a loose circle on the horizon, the mountain tops connected like the rim of a great bowl. The inner slopes of these mountains were all steep cliffs, enclosing this massive white cloud basin. No wonder some said it led straight into the heart of the earth. Just standing at the summit, Song You could feel it. Even though his vision was blocked by the clouds, there was a sense of bottomlessness, an indescribable depth that pulled at the soul. “Mr. Liu, please look to the left. Beside that patch of terraced field, do you see that tree? There’s a clearing beneath it.” Song You pointed off into the distance. “We’ll camp there tonight. You’ve already had a long climb, and you still have business to tend to. There’s no need for you to down and then climb all the way back up again later. Just remember that spot.” “Very well. We’ll circle through the nearby villages for now, and come find you there tomorrow morning.” “Tomorrow morning...” Song You straightened and looked into the distance, taking in the swirling sea of clouds and the ring of mountains above it. The vast white basin felt unfathomable. The spiritual energy here was denser than ever. The spiritual resonance of the place had taken on a distinct quality, as if confirming that something extraordinary had once passed through this land. Yet for all this, he still felt no clear sign of the final spiritual resonance he sought among the five. “This scenery is magnificent. Since there are still a few days before spring begins, we plan to wander a bit and explore the sights. I’m thinking of heading into that ring of mountains in the distance, to see if we can start from one side and return from the other. Once we’ve circled back, we’ll return to wait for the dragon’s appearance.” After a brief pause, he added, “If you’re busy, Mr. Liu, then please return to look for us here in two or three days.” “You’re going to circle the mountains?” “That’s quite a trek...” “We’ve already come a long way.” Mr. Liu cupped his hands in a formal gesture with concern in his voice. “Then I wish you safety in all things. Three days from now, I should be about finished collecting silks. Let’s meet here again then.” “Until then, Mr. Liu.” The two parties bowed and bid each other farewell. Mr. Liu, the elder, and the three young porters turned and walked into the forest toward the nearby village. Song You stood and watched them go for a moment, then turned to continue onward, carefully descending along a narrow trail between the fields. The sorrel horse and the calico cat followed behind, and the sound of the bell on the horse’s neck echoed softly through the clouds. With no one else around, the calico cat could finally speak. The first thing she said while pointing to the terraced fields was, “Daoist priest, look! My Mountain God can walk right down these steps!” “...” The Daoist smiled but kept walking. “I hope you don't invite the Mountain God out. He might damage these beautiful terraces.” “I know. If they're damaged, people won’t be able to farm anymore.” The calico cat broke into a little trot along the path. “If people can’t farm, and they can’t catch mice either, they’ll starve to death.” “Lady Calico, you’re wise.” Before they realized it, dusk had fallen. The sun dipped below the high mountains behind them, and the world dimmed. The entire sky turned a soft orange-pink, the horizon painted in dreamlike colors. The Daoist led his jujube-red horse down through the mountain terraces. The ridges between the fields were so narrow that both man and horse moved with difficulty. In contrast, the cat moved with ease, stepping lightly ahead of them. The swallow darted across the sky again. The water-filled terraces were like shattered mirrors scattered across the mountains, reflecting the fading evening light, the clouds at the horizon, the bare trees growing at the edges, and the travelers themselves, which left behind fleeting traces of their presence in this vast world. They didn’t stop until they reached the foot of a tree. Just ahead was a sheer cliff, and even in dusk, white clouds could still be seen swirling deep below. The Daoist removed the saddlebags from the horse and sat cross-legged on the ground, not to meditate with closed eyes, but sitting upright in a composed manner. His gaze was calm as he watched the sky grow darker and the mists churn below. The cat sat beside him, solemn and poised, her eyes reflecting something strange and profound. There is cultivation to be found amidst the mountains and waters... Vaguely, she felt as though she, too, had begun to grasp the meaning behind those words. 1. This is from “Drinking Wine (No. 5)” by Tao Yuanming. This poem describes the poet, while picking chrysanthemums, catching a tranquil glimpse of the distant southern mountain. The lines convey a serene and contented state of mind, free from worldly concerns. They reflect Tao Yuanming’s longing for nature and his pursuit of freedom and inner peace, embodying his philosophical ideals and spiritual realm. ☜ 2. Here’s an AI generated image of this scenery! It sounds heavenly and divine, reminds me of my time in Sa Pa, Vietnam.