“Sir, the stone steps are quite cold. Why don’t you come over and sit with us?”
“Thank you, but I’ll leave once I’ve finished my pancakes.”
“We have wine and meat here. Isn’t it more pleasant to enjoy a drink and chat rather than just eating a few pancakes?”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Then at least try a chicken leg!”
“Thank you very much…”
The meal consisted of pancakes made the previous night and mountain spring water—simple fare, but comfortable nonetheless.
A kind-hearted scholar sitting at a distance, who was drinking wine, wanted to form a friendly connection with the Daoist. He tore off a chicken leg from his roast chicken and handed it to him. This time, the Daoist accepted it with gratitude, though he only took a single bite and then tore the rest into pieces to feed the cat.
The calico cat took a couple of bites but then looked up at him, whispering so softly that only the Daoist could hear, “What are you eating?”
“Last night’s pancakes.”“Let me try.”
“…” Song You tore off a piece of pancake and gave it to her.
The calico cat chewed loudly. As the calico cat had said, cats didn’t usually eat fruit, and they naturally didn’t eat pancakes either. Yet, after traveling together, she had eaten fruit and pancakes.
When did she start to take the initiative to eat human food?
The first time seemed to have been during their stay in Jingzhou.
Not far from the Fuyun Temple, Song You had stopped by the roadside and taken out the lotus seeds prepared by the Northern Mountain Daoist and steamed buns bought from the road. The calico cat had come over, looking up at him and asking for a taste. Since then, whenever Song You ate congee or buns, the cat would eat some too if it wasn’t just finishing a rat or planning to catch one.
“Is it good?”
“Hmm, I don’t know…”
"After we finish eating, we’ll head down the mountain. We’ve enjoyed the flowers enough by now. There’s no need for you to accompany me down the mountain," Song You said. "Please rest in the bag. If you feel well in the evening, you can go to Minister Zhou’s house to catch the mice. If not, it’s fine to skip it. After all, we’ve taken several days off, so it's no problem if we go a few days later."
“Okay.”
Soon, the Daoist and the cat rose to leave. The cat nestled into the bag, and the Daoist cupped his hands in thanks and farewells to the scholars nearby before heading down the mountain. ȒÅꞐοꞖĚS
As he walked, he had a sudden sense of something and turned back…
Behind him, in a pavilion, several people stood. Some were painting, others were watching the painting, and some were observing the painter, with a few even looking in his direction.
The Daoist looked away and continued down the steps.
The painter, having just finished the last stroke of the apricot blossoms, noticed a few scholars gathered around to admire the use of color and the artistic mood of the painting. The discussion was lively, but when the painter looked up to see if there was anything more to add, the Daoist and the cat were no longer in sight.
The mountain remained the same, the stone steps unchanged, and the apricot blossoms still hung down beautifully. Yet, without the Daoist and the cat, the scene seemed to lose its highlight.
The painter stared blankly for a moment, then immediately looked up to see where they might have gone.
Not knowing how far the pair had gone, the painter found it hard to absorb the praise around her. What was on her mind was to give the painting to the Daoist, thinking that such an encounter would be truly wonderful.
***
In the afternoon, they returned to the east gate. The east gate, naturally, also had announcements and nottices posted.
The Daoist walked over to take a look. There were new policy updates and explanatory notices, wanted notices, and calls for experts to exorcize demons and ghosts.
The Daoist read through them carefully.
However, there were many local experts in Changjing who dealt with demons and ghosts. Many of them made a living from this skill, and those with a bold nature or who were driven to desperation might take on such jobs. Sometimes, even temple and palace personnel would take on such work.
Since Song You would only stay in Changjing until next year, he didn't need to take on all these tasks. He would only choose the difficult ones to help the people and earn some money for living in Changjing. The rest could be left to those who lived in Changjing permanently and relied on exorcizing demons and catching ghosts for their livelihood.
Just like the City God in the city, they could ensure the safety of Changjing both inside and out even better than Song You.
The Daoist also avoided trouble and did not wish to deal with the authorities, so he only glanced at the notices and did not post any. He was just waiting for the heroine to handle it.
Speaking of which, the house he rented was still not legal.
Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly heard the sound of horses' hooves. The hoofbeats were rapid and thunderous.
Everyone at the city gate and the Daoist turned to look.
Outside the city gate on the yellow earth road, a cavalry unit was galloping in, stirring up a cloud of dust like a dragon. It was not until they neared the city gate that they gradually slowed down, and the sound of the hooves became softer.
At the head of the group was a tall horse with a black-and-white coat. This coloration might make one think the horse was gentle, but a closer look revealed its majestic and imposing nature.
The rider on the horse was also tall and mighty, around thirty years old, with somewhat weathered skin and a resolute face. He wore a loose, red robe resistant to wind and sand that concealed a heavy dark armor underneath, making him appear particularly imposing. His horse was equipped with a long spear, stained with a deep, sanguine hue. It was unclear how much blood it had absorbed.
Behind him were dozens of light cavalry, all around thirty years old, dressed in full gear and bearing faces weathered by the elements. The cavalry halted at the city gate, and someone immediately stepped forward with documents to negotiate.
Countless people at the gate stopped to watch them. The Daoist stood among the crowd, observing from a distance. While waiting, the leading general turned his head and scanned the crowd with his gaze.
In the crowd, a person dressed in Daoist robes was somewhat conspicuous. The general couldn't help but look a bit longer. Their eyes briefly met before the general's gaze shifted away.
It was difficult to discern much from a glance alone; only accumulated prestige and understanding through prolonged interaction could reveal more from a single look. At first glance, the Daoist saw nothing but the person's resolute and calm gaze. However, there was still an inexplicable feeling—like he was encountering someone he had heard about for a long time.
“Let’s go!” The cavalry moved into the city.
Someone hurriedly approached the city guards to ask about the identity of the group. At this time, with the apricot blossoms in full bloom outside Changjing, there were many distinguished guests coming out to enjoy the flowers. The city guards, not daring to be negligent, replied that the leading general was Chen Ziyi, who had been recalled from the northern borders. The crowd then erupted in excitement.
The surrounding voices suddenly became chaotic. Some praised the general’s might. Some discussed the emperor’s intentions.
Some speculated that the demons and ghosts in Changjing would soon have to retreat, and perhaps the curfew would be lifted soon…
In these times, while some might not know who the current prime minister was, it was impossible not to have heard of the State Preceptor and General Chen Ziyi in Changjing. That was because the storytellers in the teahouses talked about them every day.
Even Song You felt a bit disoriented.
Chen Ziyi was a person he had often heard of since descending the mountain, someone whose stories had been told for half a year in Changjing—a figure who originally existed only in stories and the words of others. Though he had never thought of meeting this general, when he suddenly appeared before him like this one day, it was still quite remarkable.
It always felt like he was a legendary figure.
“Indeed, he's quite young,” Song You remarked as he entered the city.
He could still faintly see the cavalry’s retreating figures.
Chen Xin, with style name Ziyi, was a scion of the Chen family from Angzhou. Though he came from a distinguished family, it was in the military that he first made his mark, initially gaining recognition as a dueling general.
What was a dueling general?
Contrary to the tales and oral accounts in novels, it’s not possible for the personal strength of a general to decisively determine the outcome of a battle or significantly impact its result. However, historically, this land had a tradition of dueling generals. They were not the primary commanders but specialized generals kept within the army, not usually in command but possessing extraordinary martial prowess.
Their role was to challenge enemy generals or to be sent out when the enemy general issued a challenge. In battles, the dueling general would fight first; the victor would naturally boost their own side’s morale, while the loser would affect their side’s morale.
In the current dynasty, this practice had waned. Tales of dueling generals had become rare, mostly found in the north.
The people of the northern borderlands esteemed martial prowess and liked to provoke others. If someone came to the battlefield and taunted but shrank away or was shot dead, it would affect the morale of their side and make the Great Yan seem lacking in formidable talent.
At just sixteen, Chen Ziyi fought for the first time, and stories say that he defeated the renowned Great General Yinma of the northern border in less than ten exchanges with his red-tasseled spear.
Since then, his reputation soared. Under his long spear, countless brave generals perished. It was said that even after he became a main general, he still often challenged the northern border generals, but no longer just the dueling generals—now he faced the enemy’s main commanders.
The people of the northern borderlands, being skilled in martial arts and not daring to refuse, often felt deeply embarrassed. Even the foot soldiers felt humiliated.
Whether true or not, though this general was famous as a dueling general, he was indeed from a powerful family and well-versed in military strategy from a young age.
Besides being able to challenge enemy generals and daringly charge into battles, he was also courageous and strategic, known for leading elite troops straight to the enemy’s headquarters and often capturing it before the main battle even began. For over ten years on the battlefield, he had never suffered a defeat.
He was not just a figure from stories but someone destined to be recorded in history. Not only was he renowned in his time, but even a thousand years later, he would be remembered as a shining jewel in the annals of history.
Such an encounter was truly marvelous. It felt as if history had appeared before him.
“Hmm…”
A cat's head emerged from the bag, looking around at the many people with a puzzled meow. At the nearby houses, it then produced another curious sound, which was somewhere between a “hmm” and a “mew.”
“We’ll be there soon.” Song You patted her on the head and gently pressed her back into the bag.
Gradually, they walked back to Willow Street.
At the entrance, they spotted the figure of the heroine.
She was still sitting on the same wide bench under the eaves, holding a bowl in one hand and using chopsticks to scrape at something in the bowl with the other. From time to time, she glanced up at the passersby in the street, seemingly observing something, or perhaps nothing at all. It seemed even someone with great martial skills could be absent-minded while eating.
Song You glanced over and saw that the bowl contained a thick, indistinguishable paste with two pieces of pickled ginger, one of which had already been bitten into and had strings of ginger hanging from it.
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