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“Greetings.”
“Well now! A Daoist priest!” The woodcutter immediately stopped his singing and looked at Song You with curiosity. “Where are you headed? Are you here to enjoy the scenery of Qiong Mountain? And why are you traveling with a cat?”
“More or less.” Song You returned the greeting and replied, “My surname is Song, given name You. I hail from Yizhou and am traveling the world. I heard that Qiong Mountain offers some of the finest views in Yangzhou, and I also heard of a rather unique deity, the Xiangle God, who was once worshiped at the foot of the mountain. So I came to visit. But it seems the god’s temple has long since fallen into ruin.”
“It’s been ruined for a while! Since last year!” The woodcutter sighed, setting down the large bundle of firewood he carried on his shoulder. He then gave Song You a once-over, scrutinizing him. “You don’t sound much like a Daoist, though.”
“Force of habit,” Song You smiled slightly. “And the lyrics you were singing don’t sound much like something a woodcutter would know, either.”
“I’m just a humble firewood cutter,” the man waved a hand and wiped the sweat from his brow. “But years ago, a Daoist priest from the county’s main temple came to live in the mountain shrine alone. He had no one to talk to, so every time I passed by, I would chat with him. Over time, I picked up a few verses here and there.”
“Oh? That priest...
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