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The Daoist circled the palace, examining it closely.
Mount Tiazhu was a single column of stone, but about halfway up, a fissure split the peak into two halves. The palace too had a left and right hall, connected by a stone bridge. Overall, the layout was the same as when he had last visited.
Only now, the palace had been slightly repaired. Some statues had been replaced, everything had been swept clean, and there were fresh signs of the Daoists’ daily life here.
A small room served as a sleeping chamber.
Cooking was done in one corner of the room, where they had set up a tiny stove, so cramped and compact that it was plain the Daoists’ life on this mountain was still rather austere.
But the place was kept spotlessly clean.
Carrying a lantern, the Daoist strolled along. When he stepped onto the central stone bridge, it was as though he were walking in the heavens.
The calico cat followed at his heels, tail hanging low, paws moving in light, quick steps like a little wolf. When they reached the mountaintop platform and stepped onto the bridge, she went where he went, stopped where he stopped. All the while, she looked up at him and said, “You said you wanted to borrow the palace, and they didn’t even take any money, they just lent it to you.”
“Yes…”
“How come they know you too?”
“Don’t they also know you, Lady Calico?”
“How come they know me?” The cat stared blankly...
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