Chapter 594: In the Third Year of Da’an, an Autumn Journey to Yunzhou
In the height of summer, as dusk settled in, the sky was filled with the flurry of wings. Swallows or bats were flitting to and fro, and there were buzzing insects all around. The air was full of life, and it was lively and vibrant.
At the horizon, the sun was setting, painting the clouds in a fiery red. Beneath the sunset lay a peaceful, picturesque mountain village.
At the gates of the Daoist temple atop Yin-Yang Mountain, the Daoist had brought out a reclining chair and sat quietly in it, enjoying the mountain breeze, the coolness of evening, and the abundance of life. He gazed at the distant scenery, letting time slip gently by.
By his side sat a cat, prim and proper, tail swaying lazily from side to side.
Faint sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking drifted up from the village below, echoing once through the mountains before reaching the temple. These were gentle echoes that calmed the heart.
The Daoist wasn’t thinking of anything just then. He wasn’t thinking of the road he had taken, nor of the path ahead, nor of the old Daoists buried behind the temple. He only let his eyes take in the view, quietly lost in thought.
The mountain breeze was perfectly soothing; the ancient pines rustled softly in the wind. The Daoist was, at that moment, completely at peace.
Back when he still lived at the temple, during summer evenings like this with good weather and brilliant sunsets, he and the old Daoist would sit here together. Sometimes they’d exchange idle, wandering chatter; other times, they’d say nothing at all, simply enjoying the ultimate freedom that came from letting time pass unhurried.
The temple’s crested myna would often perch on the pine at the gate, or fly through the sky, or sometimes rest right on the old Daoist’s chair arm.
After he left, it had only been the old Daoist and the crested myna, hadn’t it?
For a moment, Song You thought he really did hear the flap of wings. He looked up and saw a bird soar across the sky, silhouetted against the dusk. Its shape was just a black blur in the dim light, but upon closer look, it wasn’t the myna. It was a swallow.
Night slowly fell.