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Chapter 8: Borrowing a Touch of Sunset Glow
In a low, thatched house with earthen walls in the village below the mountain, an elderly woman was crafting her homemade incense sticks.
Similar to the incense table in Song You's temple, she had a wooden incense table about the size of a single-person desk. On top was a roughly one-foot-wide flat wooden board, and on the board, a bundle of red paper, approximately three fingers wide and over a foot long, was affixed with a cone, used for rolling incense. Below, there was an incense trough filled with aromatic substances. Upon closer inspection, familiar ingredients could be vaguely discerned, crushed into corn-sized granules, displaying a greenish-yellow hue.
The elderly woman deftly scooped up the aromatic substances with a bamboo strip of roughly the same length as the red paper and poured them onto the paper in a neat line. Then she took out a bamboo stick, folded the top of the red paper a few times to seal it, and expertly rolled up the entire stick of incense with a quick twist of her hand.
After securely closing the bottom of the incense, one stick of incense was completed.
Rolling one stick of incense took only about ten seconds, and the elderly woman's movements were smooth and precise, making the process a true delight to watch.
Song You stood silently beside her without uttering a word.
The elderly woman, with a head of grey hair, was completely focused on her task.
The room was filled with the soothing fragrance of herbs, with light streaming in diagonally through the window; subtle traces of aromatic substances floated in the air, giving both sides a distinct presence.
Even the heart of the calico cat was serene.
Thirty sticks of incense were quickly completed.
The elderly woman carefully counted them, bundled them with straw, and handed them to Song You. "Here it is, Young Master."
"Thank you, elder." Song You respectfully accepted them.
This type of incense stick was as thick as a finger, significantly bulkier than the finer incense stick found in the city. Holding a bunch in one hand posed quite a challenge. However, its price was much cheaper, with thirty sticks only costing six copper coins, and the most expensive component was the coarse, inferior red paper.
Song You paid a little extra as a reward for the elderly woman for informing him about the ingredients for the coarse incense stick earlier. He then expressed his gratitude and left.
Although this type of incense was inexpensive and not highly valued, many Daoists in the temples Song You had visited liked to use this homemade incense. Most of them even preferred to prepare and roll their incense sticks by themselves.
Only by pouring in effort and dedication, was the medium able to establish communication with the mystical.
Leaving the village, Song You walked onto the main road and returned to the village temple. He kept only three sticks of incense for himself and placed the rest in front of the statue of Wang Shangong.
Debts must be repaid, favors must be returned.
Feeling content, Song You continued on his journey.
The once solitary journey now featured a feline companion, turning the journey into a shared adventure.
At first, the calico cat was quite well-behaved, perhaps due to unfamiliarity with Song You. She followed him quietly, maintaining a moderate distance. Soon, her true nature emerged. She would occasionally run a few steps ahead, then turn back to look at Song You. Sometimes, she would stand still, sniffing at the roadside grass. She was often attracted by butterflies or birds in the air, pausing to observe them before quickly catching up when Song You moved farther away.
With such a playful companion, the journey was not as dull.
Not long after, they encountered a checkpoint, and Song You presented his travel permit to successfully pass through.
As mentioned before, travelers and martial artists each had their own methods. People like Song You also had their special passes.
In this world, religious practices were also under imperial court's control, and each dynasty had its own regulations. In the current Dayan, the control over religions was stricter than in the previous dynasty. One notable difference was the reduction of privileges for ordinary temples and monasteries.
For example, exemptions from various taxes were no longer granted.
However, in a world inhabited by Yaoguai and deities, respect was still needed for those practitioners with real abilities.
Therefore, Dayan had two levels of travel permits.
The regular permit was a simple paper with symbols and information about the issuing organization, temples, and personal details. It bore official seals and had to be placed inside a box to avoid damage. Any legitimate monk or Daoist could obtain such a permit.
The other type was a folded document.
Having this document proved that the bearer had some degree of skill, or at least their masters or elders did. It came with a certain amount of tax exemption. Considering the frequent appearance of supernatural entities and the fact that some practitioners needed to travel extensively to engage in debates and discussions, this document also served as a guide and allowed the bearer to bring along five disciples or attendants.
It was a special privilege for skilled practitioners.
However, over the years, these documents had become quite common and were not as meaningful as they once were.
After passing the checkpoint, the scenery along the road underwent a significant change. The mountain on the left was no longer gentle; it became steep and towering. On the right, the road continued to wind through the mountains alongside a stream. Every time the calico cat wanted to see the mountaintop, she had to tilt her head to the maximum.
"So high!" The calico cat exclaimed.
"Have you ever seen a mountain this high, Lady Calico?" Song You, sitting on a rock and eating a steamed bun, asked.
"No." The calico cat turned her head to look at him and said.
In a sudden realization, Song You tore a small piece from the steamed bun he held, swiftly bending down to offer it to the cat.
However, the cat just stared at him without moving.
Just then, a buzzing insect darted by. With nonchalant grace, the calico cat lifted her front paw, effortlessly seizing the flying creature. Swiftly, she raised her paw to her mouth. By the time Song You could see it clearly, only the translucent wings of the insect remained, visible at the corner of her mouth.
The calico cat chew on the insect while glancing at Song You.
"..."
I must have misunderstood something.
Song You silently retracted the hand holding the steamed bun.
"Do you want to eat?" the calico cat asked him, “Lady Calico can catch a couple more for you."
"No need, I don't eat insects."
"They're delicious."
"Thank you for the offer, but I have to decline."
"What about mice?"
"No need, thanks."
"Hmm..."
"Lady Calico, have you heard of a place ahead called Hand-Climbing Cliff(手爬岩)? It's extremely steep, but the scenery is excellent." Song You asked again while eating his bun.
"What is Hand-Climbing Cliff?"
"It's a narrow path that requires climbing to get through, carved into the cliffside."
"How do you know about it?"
"I heard about it from the travellers in the temple a few days ago."
"I rarely listen to them talk."
"It's quite interesting."
"Are we going there?"
"I want to check it out."
"Hmm..." The calico cat leaped suddenly, accurately catching a flying insect. This time, Song You saw clearly that it was a locust. She looked at Song You and remarked, "Since Lady Calico needs to follow you, then we'll go."
Song You nodded.
The sun was setting.
When Song You asked the third local resident for directions, he learned that he had finally arrived at the base of Hand-Climbing Cliff.
An old man, weaving lanterns, wearing a bamboo hat, stood at his doorstep and pointed to the mountain cliff on the left, saying to Song You, "That is Hand-Climbing Cliff."
Both Song You and the cat looked up.
A thousand-foot sheer cliff seemed to press right before them, too close for comfort. For a moment, all that met their eyes was the towering mountain precipice, obscuring everything else.
"Hand-Climbing Cliff is indeed a shortcut, but not many people have taken it recently. The path is very dangerous and slippery. There are often disturbances from supernatural entities in the mountains, with eerie cries and howls echoing every night. Occasionally, people would go up during the day to admire the view, but they would always come back before dark; no one dares to stay up there overnight." The kind old man warned the young Daoist, "It's too late now. If you want to enjoy the scenery, it's better to go up tomorrow. If you choose to go up now, you must come back before dark."
"May I ask how long it usually takes to climb up?" Song You inquired.
"It takes two hours to climb up and another two hours to come back. If you go down the other way, it will still take two hours to reach the bottom."
"Two hours..." Song You calculated and found there was still enough time.
However, the old man frowned disapprovingly, "Are you planning to go up tonight? You'll have to walk in the dark. There are really evil spirits on this mountain."
"It's alright."
Dead people would become ghosts, and ghosts were inherently weaker than the living.
"Even if you're not afraid of evil spirits, walking in the dark is still very dangerous," the old man continued, "For centuries, countless people have fallen to their deaths on this mountain."
"Elder, can you sell me a lantern?"
"I only have lanterns, no candles."
"That's fine."
"Why are you so stubborn, young Daoist."
Song You just smiled and paid sixteen copper coins to buy a simple lantern from the old man – a common design with a delicate bamboo frame and a layer of off-white paper, slightly yellowed and without any other decorations.
With the lantern in hand, Song You and the calico cat followed the narrow path up the mountain.
"Dark night, ghostly cries..." Song You murmured, a smile appearing on his lips.
This was the description people gave to Hand-Climbing Cliff.
Climbing through the mountain woods, along the two-foot-wide path carved into the vertical cliff, reaching the top would lead to the famous Hand-Climbing Cliff.
This section of the cliff was perpendicular to the ground, and the path was entirely based on natural cracks and man-made excavations, forming a path barely enough for a person to traverse. It might be three or four feet wide at its widest point, and narrow enough at some places for a person to hug the cliffside tightly. The entire route required bending over and, in some cases, crawling using hands and feet.
The calico cat found it easy, unaffected by the narrowness, while Song You struggled.
Not only did he have to bend over, but he also had to worry about slipping and falling.
Those who did not fear high mountains and distant roads would be rewarded with the most spectacular views from the peaks.
From his current perspective, the valley below was covered in green like a dark blanket. Occasionally, unknown trees grew on the cliffs, clinging tenaciously to the rock face. The years of mountain winds had caused them to lean in one direction, as if welcoming brave climbers.
Surprisingly, in such a perilous place, predecessors had not only carved this path but also inscribed countless cliffside carvings on the top and sides of the cliffs.
There were sutras for rescuing lost souls, images of evil-spirits-suppressing deities, and many others, some of which were beginning to blur with the passage of time. Over the centuries, they had witnessed waves of people passing through, and it was uncertain whether they would continue to do so for another millennium.
Song You moved slowly, not only being cautious but also appreciating the steep scenery below and occasionally making eye contact with the deities carved on the cliffs.
These cliffside carvings spanned a wide range of eras, displaying different artistic styles. Some deities had eerie features, some were soft, while others deliberately highlighted their strong physique. These were the fantasies of the people at the time, reflecting the social trends and popular preferences of different periods. From these carvings, one could probably infer the dynasties they originated from.
The oldest carvings might be over a thousand years old.
As Song You looked closely, he not only observed the artistic styles and craftsmanship but also examined the expressions of the deities. It seemed as if he could glimpse a corner of the bygone era in their eyes.
Perhaps in a certain era, when this path was not yet abandoned and people frequently traversed it, there were indeed numerous evil spirits and Yaoguai blocking the way, and the deities on these carvings, blessed by the people's faith, truly deterred the monsters in the mountains.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him: perhaps the reason for the difficulty in traversing this path on hands and feet and bending over was not only due to the challenging excavation but also to make those who walked this path bow respectfully before these deity carvings, instilling a sense of reverence.
The sky was getting darker.
Song You stopped at the highest point, sitting on the edge of the cliff with his legs dangling naturally. Enjoying the mountain breeze, he made up his mind to spend the night right on the mountain top.
There was no rain today; instead, the evening sun painted the sky in hues of blood, with crimson clouds filling the horizon.
In this era, there were many people who loved traveling, including scholars and writers who were passionate about natural landscapes. According to the old man in the village below, many were attracted by the breathtaking scenery of Hand-Climbing Cliff. However, very few dared to stay overnight.
In Song You's eyes, they had missed out on quite a lot.
But the most beautiful thing was not the sunset. It was the time after the fading glow of the sunset, when the sky presented a dreamlike and surreal color.
Like blue but not blue, like purple yet red, like pink and white, gradually transforming into the gentle glow of the evening.
The darker the sky, the more beautiful it became.
Song You stared at it, entranced.
In this world, only the pure beauty of nature and supernatural arts could captivate him. Because only these few things, in his heart, were not as dull and boring as in the other world.
"Daoist, are we not going down?" the calico cat asked.
"Not going down."
"It's dark."
"Yes."
The mountain wind grew colder.
Song You remained sitting on the cliff, enjoying the colors in the sky and the silhouette of the mountain range below. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he reached out to lift the lantern he had just bought, raising it towards the distant horizon. With his other hand, he pinched the air in the direction of the horizon, grabbing a pinch of emptiness and throwing it into the lantern.
In an instant, the lantern lit up with a dreamlike glow, reminiscent of the colors in the sky.
Stealing hues from twilight's embrace,
To thaw the chill in the arms of night's grace.
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