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The cat had already flipped over and stood up, the cloth ball held in its mouth. It looked up at Song You, waiting until he had finished dealing with the mountain spirits and demons. Only then did it open its mouth, dropped the cloth ball, and said to him, “Winter’s almost over!”
“Oh?”
“It’s the coldest time of the year now.”
“...” Song You thought for a moment. “Why didn’t you say anything about the cold?”
“...”
The cat was momentarily stunned, baffled by how this person’s focus could be so strange, almost like a cat’s. After a pause, it answered, “It’s written in books that it’s winter! And people say so too!”
“I see.”
“Why did you sit there for so long again this time?”
“I had serious matters to attend to.”
“It was such a long time...”
“But to it, it was just a flick of a finger.”
“It?”
“Heaven. The Dao. The world. You and me.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Then never mind.”
“I brought you persimmon cakes.”
“Thank you...”
Song You had already noticed the persimmon cakes in front of him. He was now wearing a much thicker robe than he had in autumn, with snow resting on his shoulders. Yunding Mountain had taken on its winter appearance—withered yellow hues everywhere, covered in snow amid the desolation, possessing a different kind of charm.
He picked up a persimmon cake and slowly began to eat.
The fire-crystal, molten-hearted persimmon cake had a taste that reminded him of those he’d had back in Hezhou.
Faint sounds drifted in from the distance. Through the shifting clouds and mist, one could see a crowd gathered...
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