Chapter 588: Hidden Dragon Temple, as Spoken by Passersby

“Are we sleeping up here again tonight?”

“I’d like to. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“It feels hotter than last time, though.”

“Last time it was the beginning of autumn; this time it's midsummer.”

“Nights will still get chilly.”

“Lady Calico, you make a good point...”

The Daoist was still sitting at the cliff’s edge with his back to the encroaching darkness. Facing the fading glow of sunset, he watched the dreamlike colors at the horizon and the silhouette of the land below.

Behind him, Lady Calico had transformed back into her human form. She pulled out a wool mat and a light blanket from the embroidered bag and laid them neatly on the ground. Then, she took out a lantern.

While the Daoist was still quietly admiring the afterglow, the little girl had already laid out his bed and now held up the wooden staff with the lantern raised in front of him.

“...”

The Daoist paused for a moment before it finally dawned on him, and he couldn’t help but smile. Clearly, his cat still remembered that night well.

He raised his hand, just like he did back then, and made a pinch gesture toward the distant horizon. He pinched at the air, as if plucking a fragment of the sky, and dropped it gently into the plain, old lantern before him.

In an instant, the lantern lit up with the same dreamlike radiance as the colors still lingering at the edge of the sky. He borrowed a trace of the sunset's glow...

The heavens gradually darkened, and the colors faded. Soon, the last light of dusk vanished. Yet the lantern still glowed, gently casting its lingering light back into the long night ahead.

The Daoist was now seated on the wool mat with his hands resting on his legs in a comfortable posture, attuning himself to the spiritual rhythms of heaven and earth.

Meanwhile, the cat lay curled up beside him, her eyes full of thought. If someone were hurrying along the road below, or if some spirit or ghost happened to be traveling through the mountains at night and looked up, they might spot a single, unusual speck of starlight suspended between the sheer cliffs a thousand chi above.

Tonight, of course, was different from last time. Last time it had been the beginning of autumn, with a deeper chill. This time it was only early summer, so it was warmer by nature.

Last time, the mountain winds had been far fiercer. Last time, they’d slept directly on the cold, uneven planks of the cliffside path. This time, they had a wool mat beneath them. Last time, he had entered meditation in silence. This time, there was a cat who chattered away beside him, only quieting down when he no longer felt like replying.

Even the spiritual resonance of the mountains had changed slightly, and there were more mountain spirits and ghosts now. And the lantern had been changed as well.

The paper lantern they’d bought in town before hadn’t withstood the wind and rain and wasn’t easy to carry. It had broken not long after. The one they used now had been a gift from a little ghost at a demon-and-ghost market in the mountains of Pingzhou. He had kept it ever since.

Still, the soft glow from the lantern illuminated a small area, lending warmth to these harsh cliffs and sweeping mountain winds.

Around midnight, the Daoist opened his eyes as usual and raised his hand.

A golden stream of light floated in his palm, suspending and swirling softly in the air like stars or rain. With a flick of his hand, it dissipated back into the world.

Turning his head, he saw the cat nestled against him and curled into a tight ball, her breathing calm and steady. Whether she dreamed, he did not know.

The next morning, the Daoist descended the mountain.

It was still the same Daoist, still the same jujube-red horse, and still the same calico cat slowly making their way along Jinyang Road.

Ancient cypress trees lined the path, now cloaked in their unique blue-green summer hue. They had grown wild and unpruned for a thousand years, their branches twisting freely and crossing one another in wild patterns. The dense foliage allowed only scattered rays of sunlight to dapple the stone path below, shifting shadows playing at the edge of vision.

All around, the jingle of the jujube-red horse’s bells mingled with those of passing travelers, merchants, and pedestrians, weaving a rhythm of motion and memory.

As he journeyed forward, he reflected on the past. Time passed swiftly, just as these thirteen years had.

Meanwhile, the calico cat's expression grew increasingly complex. Each time she paused to examine the surrounding mountains and rivers, her gaze was sharp and thoughtful, as if she, too, realized they were drawing closer and closer to that little temple from long ago, to the place where she and the Daoist had first met.

Unknowingly, the afternoon had arrived. Sunlight filtered through the branches of the cypress trees, transforming into points of light that scattered across the mossy flagstones of the ancient road.

“We’re almost at your little temple,” Song You said calmly, leaning on his bamboo staff.

The cat, who had been trotting ahead in her usual small steps, halted at his words. She turned to look at him but said nothing.

Fortunately, the Daoist understood her meaning.

“If I remember correctly, not far ahead is the roadside shrine to Virtuous Duke Wang. Just before it, there’s a fork in the road. Take that fork, and you’ll reach your little temple. Once we’re there, you will surely recognize the way.”

“Are we going?” The cat stood still, looking up at him intently.

“That depends on you, Lady Calico,” Song You said, lowering his head to meet her gaze. “On this journey of ours, you certainly have a say in where we go.”

“...” The cat's face betrayed no expression, and she said nothing.

“Seems like you want to go,” Song You said with a faint smile. “I’m getting a bit tired. Let’s find a place up ahead to rest and eat something. Then we’ll go and see whether your little temple is still there.”

“Okay!” So said the cat.

The moment the words left her mouth, she looked away and broke into a run suddenly, like a small tiger bounding forward along Jinyang Road.

Sunlight streamed through the ancient cypresses in beams, and the calico cat’s fur, already clean and glossy, seemed to glow as the light speckled her body.

They had gone less than half a li when an open clearing appeared ahead. A particularly lush and sprawling cypress tree cast its shadow over the ground, where several stones had been placed to serve as makeshift seats. At this time, a group of people had already stopped there to rest.

It was a mixed bunch, a true crowd of all sorts. There were merchants, porters, bodyguards, idle wanderers of the

jianghu

, and ordinary folk who looked like they might be visiting relatives. They all gathered harmoniously, chatting idly while wiping away their sweat, and enjoying the cool shade.

A Daoist soon arrived with a cat and a jujube-red horse, burdened with many packs. It was an uncommon sight that naturally drew attention, and conversations faltered as the crowd glanced his way.

Seeing this, the Daoist gave a slight nod of greeting, then found a stone to sit on. He pulled the embroidered satchel of Lady Calico into his arms, holding it to ward off the summer heat. It really was quite warm.

Some of the travelers gave him a few more looks before returning to their earlier discussion.

Leading the talk were a few wandering martial artists and two armed bodyguards. People of the

jianghu

, once they met on the road, would naturally exchange greetings. If they could share useful information, all the better; if not, then at least a good conversation helped pass the time. Most others simply listened on, enjoying the tale.

They had apparently been discussing a matter of demons and spirits that haunted this road.

“There’s this mountain spirit that lingers by that bridge, always asking people to carry it across. Finally, it ran into the wrong person,” said one of the martial wanderers. “I heard a strongman from the Xishan Sect came through the area recently. That guy is broader than a bull, and in his hands, the Xishan Sect’s swords looked like toothpicks.

“That demon still had the nerve to come out and ask him for a piggyback across the river. The hero saw through it at once, but wasn’t scared. He actually hoisted it up and carried it across the river. Midway, the demon suddenly turned heavy, as heavy as several thousand jin, they say, but he didn’t put it down. He just kept going until he got to a spot with no shade, right under the sun, then drew his blade and hacked away at it.”

When the crowd heard that the demon had turned thousands of jin heavy, their eyes widened. And when they heard that the hero not only bore the weight but drew his sword and attacked, they were full of awe and admiration.

“Did the demon die?”

“They say it reverted to its original form and ran off,” the

jianghu

man replied. “Xishan Sect disciples are skilled, but once in the forest, it’s near impossible to chase down a mountain demon. All they could do was let it escape. I heard the blade was covered in green blood. Even after it was washed clean, it still glowed green under the moonlight.”

“A real demon then...” the crowd murmured in both wonder and fear.

At the same time, the calico cat listened intently, completely absorbed.

“These past few years, this road has gotten more and more dangerous,” one of the bodyguards sighed. “Even with Virtuous Duke Wang guarding it, it’s no use.”

“Right?”

“Hey, any of you heard about what happened in Cattle Village?”

“What happened in Cattle Village now?”

“This one’s way scarier than that mountain demon.”

Hearing the bodyguard say that and especially drop his voice low as if even he found it terrifying, everyone fell silent. They were afraid to speak up, yet all of them stared at the man, eager to hear what happened.

“They say there was a household in Cattle Village, just off the main road. The family was known to be kindhearted. Anyone passing by who needed water or had run out of food could knock on their door, and they’d help without hesitation. Anyone remember that?”

“Is it the one with the pigpen by the roadside?”

“Yes, yes, that’s the one!”

“I got water from them once! Good folks! It was peach season then, and they even gave me one to eat!”

“I remember that family too...”

“They had a son, didn’t they? Pretty sharp kid.”

“So what happened to that family?”

Even the Daoist sitting nearby furrowed his brow in thought, trying to recall them. But finding no memory of that household, he gave up and turned his gaze to the bodyguard instead.

Everyone else was already looking his way.

“It was just a few days ago,” the bodyguard began. “They say one day, a young woman arrived at their home. Very pretty, and claimed to be from a village near Southern Art County, only twenty li from there. She said her parents had died of illness not long ago, and with no one else to rely on, she was heading to Xuzhou to find some relatives. Passing through the area and feeling hungry and thirsty, she stopped to ask for water and something to eat, as well as directions to Xuzhou.”

He paused briefly.

“The man of the house saw that she was good-looking and well-spoken like someone who’d even had a bit of schooling and got some ideas. So he told her it was too late to travel and invited her to stay the night. That evening, the woman of the house even brought her into the room and offered her a shoe sole to embroider. The girl took the needle and thread, and in just a few stitches, had the sole neatly and tightly done. The wife was amazed and immediately took a liking to her.”

Pausing for a moment, the bodyguard took a sip of water.

“Later, the wife pulled her husband into the inner room to discuss about it. They both liked the girl. When they came back out, they told her, ‘Since you’re heading to Xuzhou, and it’s thousands of li away, you might not even find your relatives once you get there, how about marrying our son instead?’

“The girl thought about it, then nodded. She said she was bound to marry someone anyway, and since their family seemed kind and harmonious, she was willing to settle down and help run the household.

“The family was overjoyed. The next day they went out and borrowed some money, afraid she might change her mind, and quickly held a wedding.”

At this point, no one could see what was supposed to be scary about the story.

In fact, it sounded more like a touching tale from the

jianghu

, where good people were rewarded for their kindness, and fate bringing two lives together. Stories like that always found eager listeners.

“That night, once the wedding chamber was set, the old couple reminded their son to treat her well, then closed the door and went to rest. But in the middle of the night, the wife suddenly woke from a nightmare. In it, her son appeared with a horrified expression, crying that he was being eaten alive. She was terrified, and shook her husband awake.

“But he told her she was just so happy about getting a good daughter-in-law that her mind was playing tricks on her, and told her to go back to sleep. It wasn’t until she woke from the same nightmare a second time that she roused her husband again. This time they lit a lamp, opened the door, and called out for their son and daughter-in-law, but got no reply.

“Working up the courage to open their son’s room, they found the door locked from the inside. Only when they called the neighbors to help break it down did they see what was inside: a vicious, hideous creature crouching in the room. When it saw so many people, it fled through the doorway. Their son had already been eaten down to bones, and the bed was soaked in blood.”

Everyone listened in stunned silence, a chill rising from the depths of their hearts.

“Is that for real?”

“How could it not be?” the bodyguard replied. “If any of you are heading that way, just ask around and you’ll see! That monster’s still been lurking nearby these past two nights. I’d wager it’s still eyeing that old couple.”

“Didn’t anyone report it to the authorities?”

“What good would that do? The City God Temple in Yidu was only just built, not to mention, even if the City God really is effective, his reach doesn’t extend beyond the city itself. The constables don’t dare head into the mountains at night to catch monsters either. Someone did go burn incense for Virtuous Duke Wang ahead on the road, but at most he only showed up in a villager’s dream, telling them to gather more people and search for the monster’s lair during the day. But who among the villagers has that kind of courage?”

“No one thought to seek out an expert?”

“They did. But it was no use.”

“Sigh...” Everyone immediately let out a sigh.

“I heard there’s a pretty skilled expert in Southern Village, who handles ghosts and spirits with ease. Why not try calling him?”

“They say that’s the one they already called.”

“Oh...”

“I once heard from an elder that about a hundred li further on, in Yin-Yang Mountain of Lingquan County, there used to be a Daoist temple. Can’t say whether it was truly miraculous, but whenever someone went there for help after being plagued by demons or monsters, they always came back safe. The locals used to say that no matter how powerful the creature, it couldn't defeat the Daoist on that mountain. But at some point, no one knows exactly when, people stopped being able to find it. They’d go to the mountain, walk the same paths, but the temple was just... gone. Vanished into thin air.”

“There’s really such a strange thing?”

“Just something I heard, too.”

“...”

Hearing all this, Song You couldn’t help but shake his head.

He had to get involved in such matters once he encountered them, and now that he’d heard them mention his long-closed Daoist temple, it felt like fate was calling him directly. There was no time left to delay.

So just then, the Daoist’s voice rang out beside them, “May I ask...”

Everyone turned at the sound of his voice, eyes shifting toward the Daoist.

There he sat on a stone with a brocade satchel cradled in his arms, fanning himself with a broad leaf. Beside him, an exquisitely beautiful calico cat sat obediently, while behind them stood a jujube-red horse laden with baggage. Strikingly, the horse bore no bridle or saddle marks, and it was more like a wild stallion than a tamed beast. The scene carried an air of quiet mystery.

The Daoist’s manner was warm and courteous as he looked at the bodyguard, and his tone was seemingly one of casual curiosity as he asked, “How far is the home you spoke of from here?”