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“Why haven’t those grains been harvested?”
“Lady Calico, you may not know,” the Daoist explained to the cat as they walked, “the villagers left them there on purpose.”
“On purpose? Left for whom?”
“For the Daoist temple in the mountain, of course.”
“The Daoist temple in the mountain?”
The cat immediately looked up. When it saw the temple half-revealed in the mist atop the distant hill, its expression froze.
“That’s your temple!”
“Indeed.”
“They left it for you?”
“Exactly.”
“Why would they do that?”
“It’s an old and simple tradition,” Song You said, pausing briefly. “Daoists with true cultivation protect the peace of the land, as it should be. The villagers are poor and have little money, but simple, honest people who receive protection naturally seek ways to repay the kindness. Otherwise, their hearts would feel uneasy.
“So, after each harvest, they leave a small cluster of rice behind to be taken by those cultivating in the mountains. It counts as an offering. If a Daoist accepts the villagers’ offering, then he is bound to ensure peace in the region, just like a deity who, upon receiving incense, must fulfill his divine duties.”
“Do you actually come down to harvest it?”
“Of course.” A trace of nostalgia colored Song You’s...
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