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“You monks must be joking. I am just a penniless Daoist, wandering the world with nothing to my name. I don’t even have much money, let alone a collection of rare treasures. What treasure could I possibly have?”
Song You spoke with a smile, patting his worn-out Daoist robe.
It had been over ten years since he first put it on, and its age was obvious at a glance.
However, the monks were not convinced. Speaking in their strange accents, they continued to persuade him.
“Come on, friend, don't be so modest! We’ve already shown you our treasure—why don’t you show us yours?”
“You passed through that demon-infested mountain, clearly capable of taking riches, yet you only took a single gold coin. That means you must not care for those mundane treasures. There’s no need to hide!”
“Why deceive us, Daoist Master? If nothing else, even that bamboo staff of yours is quite a fine treasure! Surely, you must have something even more powerful—bring it out and let us admire it!”
“That’s right! Daoist Master, you come from Changjing of Great Yan. How could you not have at least one or two treasures? Besides, traveling through mountains and rivers, encountering countless demons along the way—surely you must have some magical artifact to protect yourself?”
***
Song You lowered his gaze and exchanged a glance with his cat.
Then he sighed, a look of helplessness appearing on his face.
These monks were rather perceptive.
They had provided him shelter from the rain, treated him with food and drink, and even generously demonstrated their own magical treasure. It would be rude to keep everything hidden from them.
“If you ask about treasures, I’m not sure if it qualifies as one, but as a magical artifact, it certainly counts,” Song You said, lifting his bamboo staff....
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