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As they left Mozhu County, there was still snow on the ground.
However, it no longer carried the heavy, endless whiteness of midwinter. Patches of earth and remnants of last year’s wild grass began to emerge, while snow lingered only in the shaded, low-lying parts of the official roads.
The Daoist traveled for half a day, covering dozens of li.
Finding a suitable spot, he sat down to rest.
The old hen gifted by the innkeeper had already been slaughtered and cleaned, and the honey fungi soaked and prepared. After fussing over it for half the afternoon, everything had come together in a pot of stewed chicken, now bubbling away with a rich aroma rising into the air.
Lady Calico had transformed into her human form, crouching into a small bundle while holding a stick of firewood. She carefully tended the flames, occasionally leaning forward to peer into the pot, sniffing the aroma, and pondering whether the main ingredient for this dish could be swapped out for something else.
The Daoist sat cross-legged nearby, holding a copy of Yudi Jisheng, contemplating the next leg of their journey.
Zhaozhou was vast, its expanse evident even on the map.
If it were merely a cartographic error, one might dismiss it as the mapmaker’s oversight. However, the text in the chapter on Zhaozhou made it clear: although the number of counties and commanderies in Zhaozhou was comparable to other prefectures, historical...
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