Chapter 625: What Spiritual Resonance? He Has to Go Find It Himself?

In the early morning, the sea of clouds grew more scattered. Like a rising tide, it had surged from below the sheer cliff up to where the Daoist had camped for the night. Below lay rolling mists, which were ever-shifting and flowing. Above, the blue sky stretched wide, and the terraced fields filled with water gleamed sapphire blue, resembling scattered gemstones.

This was the sight that greeted the Daoist when he awoke. It was truly a scene like an immortal realm in the mortal world. Fortunately, he was already in the immortal realm.

The air was still chilly, though sunlight brought a touch of warmth. After breakfast, the Daoist packed up his belongings, and, along with his cat and horse, headed up the mountain.

Above was a stretch of clarity, while below, clouds and mist swirled and flowed, with a boundary line running between the two.

The Daoist made his way up the path along the field ridges.

By the roadside stood a middle-aged man in a worn white robe, hands cupped behind his back, gazing out over the Dragon Pool and sea of clouds. Another cultivator in a pale moon-white robe sat cross-legged, facing east. He was silent and serene, welcoming the morning sunlight with a calm expression.

At the mountaintop, several recluses of various ages had gathered. They carried wine flasks, food, poetry scrolls,

qin

and flutes. Sitting in a loose circle, they chatted and laughed freely, occasionally playing music.

These must be the recluses that Mr. Liu had spoken of.

When they saw the Daoist emerge from the mists, perhaps struck by the ethereal image, they all turned to look. Some gave respectful nods or cupped their hands in greeting, others spoke a few friendly words.

The Daoist paused and responded to each one. Only after reaching the mountaintop did he look back, and found it curious that the clouds below continued to rise, as if they had paused at that specific height only because he had slept there.

Once the Daoist departed, the mist continued to rise, following in his footsteps and gradually enveloping more and more of the terraced fields. At this moment, the mountain path he had taken and the blue terraces were both half-hidden in the swirling fog, giving one the sense that if they were to descend again, they might descend into the unknown.

The Daoist remembered the cliff from the night before.

The perfectly fine mountain path and terraced fields suddenly gave way to a sheer cliff that dropped straight down. It truly felt as if the earth itself had split apart right at this point.

“No wonder the ancients believed this was the end of the world,” the Daoist mused, gazing farther into the distance. In the depths of the rolling white clouds, a circle of mountains stood, gradually being consumed by mist. He took a step forward. “Let’s go.”

“

Meow...”

The cat trotted ahead in a playful run.

The Daoist followed closely behind, and after him came the jujube-red horse. The swallow darted across the sky above as the group made their way along the ridge at the mountaintop. Beside the path, the white clouds stretched deep and rolled endlessly, making it feel as though they were walking among the clouds themselves.

The distant mountains seemed even farther away through the mist.

That area appeared entirely untouched; there were no villagers, no mountain folk cultivating terraces, no hamlets or signs of habitation. Naturally, there were no roads either. The mountains seemed to connect with each other, but whether one could cross them depended on whether the connections were gentle slopes or sharp ridges.

Most likely, mountain spirits and demons lived there. If there were exiled immortals, they probably dwelled there too.

The Daoist and his companions walked farther and farther away. The recluses they left behind either remained waiting, or continued to drink, play music, and converse, or turned and descended, seemingly living their own immortal-like lives.

“I used to lie on the ground and look up at the sky,” the cat said as it pranced along, sometimes quick, sometimes slow. “I saw clouds in little clumps and thought they must be soft.”

“They’re not soft anymore?”

“Now...” The calico cat stumbled on her thoughts, then replied, “Now the clouds are air! You can’t even touch them!”

“Oh...” Song You dragged out the syllable as he walked slowly. Then, he said gently, “When you said soft, you meant the kind of softness you can actually feel, not the kind where you can’t touch anything at all.”

“That's right,” said the cat. “Like the kind that... Like the kind that looks like sausages. They’re soft and puffy, and when you bite it, it bursts open, like that kind of grass.”

“Bulrush[1].”

“

Bulwush

!”

“Cattail[2].”

“

Cattwaiww

!”

“It's also like cotton.”

“Yes, yes, yes, like cotton too! Like the wool felt Prefect Yu gave us, like the soft fur on a rabbit. But back then, I didn’t know what cotton was, didn’t know that wool felt felt like that either, and I didn’t catch rabbits to eat very often.”

“But even back then, you used to watch the sky a lot, wondering what clouds felt like.”

“Cats love looking at the sky. We look at the sky all the time,” the calico cat told him. “Sometimes we just lie there, sunbathing with nothing to do, and just stare at the sky. It’s very pretty.”

“...” Song You thought for a moment. It did seem true. Perhaps these small creatures spent far more time gazing at the sky than those constantly chasing survival.

He said, “You used to stare at the sky a lot, so I can tell you have refined taste. You’re a naturally elegant cat. Even back then, you were already thinking about what clouds might feel like, which is obviously a sign of great intelligence. And in your spare time, you bite on cattails for fun. Clearly, you lead a rich and fulfilling life.”

As he walked, Song You waved a hand and retrieved the water-element spiritual resonance from his bag, holding it in his hand while gazing up at the distant mountains and deep sea of clouds. At the same time, he said, “Lady Calico, do you know what this is?”

“Wh-What

meow

?”

“It’s the path you walked.”

“The path... I walked?” The cat stopped, turned, and looked back at the little path behind them.

“Lady Calico, you came from all of those places, which is why you’re here now. It’s because of all of that, every detail and every step, that you are who you are today.”

“...” The cat looked up at him, her eyes flickering.

After a long pause, she lowered her head and gave it a quick shake; she shook it so fast that her face blurred. Then, she continued walking as if skipping over that entire subject. She changed the topic naturally, “I’ve decided! Starting today, I’m going to release the big bird from the flag, tame it, and then I can ride it into the clouds and play.”

“The white crane.”

“The white crane!”

“I’ll wish you success in advance, then.”

“That white crane is fierce. It never listens to me.”

“Just give it a few beatings. It’ll fall in line.”

“I probably can’t beat it... Even the golden Mountain God couldn’t beat it. Its beak could pierce right through him!”

“Sounds like it’d be a very satisfying victory.”

“

Meow

...” The cat turned to glance at him again before asking, “What are you looking around for?”

“The last spiritual resonance.”

“It’s probably down below.”

“Lady Calico, you’re right.” The Daoist glanced at the nearly circular cloud basin below, then quickly looked away again. “Let’s walk around the edge first. There might be a true dragon living beneath, and dropping in uninvited would be rude. Also, this side is a sheer cliff. If we circle the rim, we might find a gentler slope, a safer place to descend.”

“Yeah...” The cat seemed thoughtful as she continued walking.

Before long, they reached the end of the terraced fields. Ahead, there was clearly no path, yet the Daoist barely paused.

The grass grew thick, the forest blocked the path, and the terrain was rugged, often marked by ravines and scattered rocks. Some sections were so narrow that a single misstep could send one falling into the void. Others were steep enough that even ordinary horses couldn’t descend. Some paths clung tightly to the cliff edge, so perilous that a single gust of wind could be fatal.

The swallow flew overhead, diligently scouting out any passable “roads” to help them avoid danger or wasting time on dead ends.

At times, they climbed to the top of a mountain, one of those peaks they had seen earlier from Bashu shrouded in white clouds. At other times, they had to descend into the depths of the mist, finding their way through the fog.

The world was utterly quiet; even the sound of the wind and the rustling grass became incredibly distinct.

Song You could feel the distant gaze of those recluses and mountain folk at Bashu behind him watching their small group disappear naturally into the clouded depths of the mountains. Of course they’d be curious. Anyone would glance a few more times at such a sight. But as for what they thought? There was no need to dwell on that.

There were also gazes nearby; some far, some close.

Some came from the wild birds and beasts of the mountains. Others came from the mountain spirits and monsters, intrigued by the rare sight of people venturing into such deep places.

The Daoist ignored them all, as all of them were merely passing guests.

They then went farther and farther. When he looked back again, Bashu was now across the sea of mist, just like the distant peaks that once appeared from its vantage point.

They had traveled for three full days.

Several times, Song You found slopes with gentler gradients, like those terraces above the cliff at Bashu. These sloped diagonally into the mist, with no roads but many trees, making it seem like one could slowly descend with caution. Two such slopes were even longer than the terrace path by Bashu. But, without exception, each one ended the same way: a near-vertical cliff at the bottom. Even monkeys would struggle to cross, let alone people.

There were also times when the way ahead became completely impassable.

Sometimes, the slope was too steep in either direction for anyone to proceed, much less the horse. Other times, a deep gully or bottomless cliff lay between them and the next ridge, impossible to cross. Or there were mountain paths so narrow between two peaks that even the cat struggled to pass, and there was certainly no room for a horse.

Fortunately, Lady Calico was quite capable. She was not only skilled in earth-element magic but also able to summon powerful demons to help clear the way for the Daoist.

When that wasn’t enough, the Daoist had no choice but to summon stone to build bridges.

Still, the wood-element spiritual resonance remained unfound.

In fact, after this entire circuit, no matter where he went, there had been almost no fluctuation from any of the other four elemental spiritual resonances. It was as if, after circling around, he was no closer to or farther from them than before. Even the water-element spiritual resonance, which he had the deepest comprehension of, gave no particular new response.

Each morning, the Daoist would sit atop some mountain by the edge of a cliff, facing the clouds and pond. There he would absorb the spiritual qi of heaven and earth and meditate on the nature of the spiritual resonance of that direction, but he still had not caught even a glimpse of the true dragon.

Three days later, the group returned to Bashu. This time, they came back from the opposite side.

“Sir, did you circle around from the mountain ahead and come back this way?” a mountain recluse asked.

“That’s right.”

“Sir, you’re truly a man of great ability. Three days ago, we saw you and your party enter the mountain clouds, calm and composed. You were already shrouded in an immortal’s aura then. Still, we worried that there’d be no path ahead, that the way would be rough and treacherous, with wild beasts and monsters. We thought you might run into trouble or danger and would have to turn back soon. We kept discussing when you’d return. I never expected that when we saw you again, you’d already come back from the other side.”

“...”

Song You answered everything truthfully.

If someone asked whether the road ahead was really passable, he would simply reply that

people

could make it through, but

horses

could not. If someone asked whether there were wild beasts or demons ahead, the Daoist would tell them the truth, that there were. Better to be honest than have someone blindly follow in his footsteps and end up falling off a cliff or becoming food for some beast or spirit.

He then returned to his original spot to continue his cultivation and waiting.

Occasionally, recluses from the mountains would come to visit, most likely having heard that he had taken a journey among the white clouds and had come specifically to ask about it. It was also possible that they had simply wanted to talk with him, and this matter merely provided them with a reason and a topic. These recluses had always acted with a carefree spontaneity; when it came to making acquaintances, they often didn’t need much of a reason at all.

Mr. Liu also came by to visit as promised. He still wore a long sword at his waist, and with his slightly bloated figure, somehow managed to appear rather distinguished.

Song You waited with him.

Just like that, the third year of Da'an passed quietly in the white cloud mountains.

Mr. Liu was deeply devoted to the Immortal Dao and cultivation. There were many recluses in these mountains; some practiced cultivation, some possessed Daoist powers, others had unique abilities. He was acquainted with most of them.

So during the day, he often went to visit these reclusive sages and scholars, to chat and deepen their bonds. He invited Song You along twice, but when Song declined both times, he didn’t press the matter.

Still, he never neglected this Daoist who seemed fated to cross paths with him, and who also clearly had considerable cultivation. In fact, he visited every morning without fail, waiting with him for the true dragon to appear before heading off in the late morning.

It wasn’t long before the Beginning of Spring arrived, but the mountain air remained desolate and cold.

The long-time recluses in the mountain seemed to have figured out the legendary dragon’s patterns. Once the spring season began, sighs could be heard among the hills. Some recited poetry aloud to express their regret. Others lit bonfires and drank with friends, singing late into the night. By day, they took their leave. Being recluses, who knew when they’d meet again? One by one, they began to vanish from the mountain.

Mr. Liu also seemed ready to leave.

“Looks like we won’t be seeing it this year after all,” he said, somewhat disappointed, but more so on Song You’s behalf. He felt sorry that the awe-inspiring sight he’d once described hadn’t revealed itself. “Still, it’s to be expected. I’ve come every year for the past twenty years, and even with good luck, I’ve only seen it three times. It might be time for you to descend the mountain as well.”

“I’ll wait a few more days.”

“You’re still going to wait?” Mr. Liu raised a brow.

“If you have urgent matters, Mr. Liu, please go ahead and descend first. After I return and reach Luchuan County, I will certainly visit your home in person.”

“It’s perfectly reasonable that someone who came all this way would be reluctant to leave.” Mr. Liu nodded, expressing his understanding. “In that case, I’ll stay and wait a few more days with you.”

“You’re not busy?”

“Busy with what? The respected elders in the village and the wealthy silk farmers are all old acquaintances of mine. Saying I’m here to accompany you is just an excuse to linger a few more days. In reality, I just come here every morning before sunrise to find you, watch the sunrise together, chat a bit, and then head down to the village for free meals and drinks. It’s a very leisurely life.” Mr. Liu looked up and laughed heartily. “After a few more days, I’ll go down the mountain with you. That way, I’ll feel more at ease too. A good deal all around!”

“Many thanks, Mr. Liu.”

“Do you have enough provisions, sir? Still have rice and flour? If not, I’ll bring you some tomorrow. You don’t have to be so polite with me.”

“A couple of days ago, some little demon caused trouble in the village and came looking for trouble. Lady Calico has always been kind-hearted, so she helped them out. The villagers gave us some red rice and cured fish in return, and we haven’t even finished it yet.”

“Then I can rest assured.”

And so, they waited two more days. They watched and admired the sunset, facing the sea of clouds from dawn till dusk. It was both a vigil and a kind of cultivation.

There were fewer and fewer recluses left on the mountain. Soon, barely any remained.

The few who did were likely staying only because Song You was still waiting here, and in a rather visible spot too. Knowing that others were also waiting gave them some comfort. If Song You were to leave, the rest would likely be gone by the next day.

On the fifth day after the start of spring, the nights were still bitterly cold. Mr. Liu was beginning to lose patience, and Song You also felt that the true dragon probably wouldn’t appear anymore.

But not seeing the true dragon didn’t matter; it was simply a matter of fate not having arrived yet.

What he truly couldn’t allow was failing to find the last elemental spiritual resonance. Left with no other choice, the Daoist would have to go down and find it himself.

1. Indeed, they look like sausages lol.

☜

2. “香蒲” in Chinese refers to cattail, a reed-like plant. ☜