Zhenzhen felt her cheeks burning hot, and immediately realized that to refute this peasant woman, she could only clarify the facts. So she told her everything she had seen from when she fainted yesterday until she woke up in the evening, including detailed descriptions of the furniture and utensils in the room, as well as the chicken soup noodles and wintersweet flower tea.

After listening, the peasant woman seemed somewhat convinced, yet she said: “There are no houses or young masters as you described in this vicinity. However, spirits often cause mischief in the mountains. Birds, beasts, and even rocks and earth can absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and transform into human form. Last year, my neighbor’s Fourth Miss bought a clay Moheluo at the foot of the mountain on the seventh day of the seventh month. It was a male doll wearing a gold bracelet, looking plump and adorable. Fourth Miss liked it very much and placed this Moheluo by her bedside when she slept at night. That night, a young master came knocking on her door, saying he had admired her for a long time and wanted to meet her. Fourth Miss peeked through the window and saw that the young master was very handsome, so she opened the door…”

Zhenzhen listened with rapt attention. Seeing the peasant woman pause here, she immediately asked: “And then?”

The peasant woman rolled her eyes: “Then? Just assume they chatted under the covers all night.”

Only then did Zhenzhen realize there were aspects here inconvenient to describe in detail. She covered her slightly red cheeks with both hands and laughed silently.

“The young master left before dawn, and before leaving, he gave Fourth Miss a gold bracelet. The next day, when Fourth Miss took out the gold bracelet to look at it, guess what happened?” The peasant woman told the story vividly, not forgetting to ask questions to guide Zhenzhen’s thoughts, just like a storyteller.

Zhenzhen laughed: “She must have discovered the gold bracelet was made of clay.”

Seeing her guess quickly, the peasant woman was somewhat disappointed. She lowered her eyelids that had been held high and continued: “Yes, she hurriedly looked at the Moheluo by her bedside and found the bracelet on the doll’s hand was gone. Only then did she understand that the young master had transformed from this Moheluo.”

“And then?” Zhenzhen asked again.

The peasant woman said: “Fourth Miss smashed the Moheluo to pieces, and that young master never appeared again.”

“Ah?” Zhenzhen was very surprised. “She just smashed it like that?”

“Of course,” the peasant woman frowned at her, thinking this girl was extremely shameless. “If she didn’t smash it, were you expecting him to come find you every night?”

Zhenzhen found it amusing and was somewhat embarrassed. She pushed aside the dry grass and sat with her knees drawn up, burying her face in her sleeves to hide her uncontrollable smile. This action made her clearly smell the wisteria fragrance that clung to her sleeves. She remembered the incense tripod on the green lacquered small lotus leaf, and recalled the crane’s eyes looking at her before she fainted. Feeling somewhat dazed, she thought: Could what I saw last night have been an illusion created by a crane spirit? That person last night wore white clothes with black trim, which really did resemble a crane’s colors. But if it was an illusion, this wisteria fragrance should have dissipated too. Why does it still cling to my clothes?

The peasant woman seemed to look down on Zhenzhen greatly. When Zhenzhen asked her name, she wouldn’t answer. When asked how to get to Wen Qiao Inn, she said she didn’t know. After sitting for a moment, she dug out two roasted taro roots from the fire ashes and tossed them to Zhenzhen, warning that it was cold in the mountains with wild beasts roaming about from time to time, making it quite dangerous. It would be best to go down the mountain quickly. Then she left directly.

Zhenzhen stood up and looked around, discovering this cave was indeed the one she had seen before fainting. After resting briefly, she took her luggage and the two taro roots and continued onward, walking up the mountain.

It was early morning, and the sky had just cleared after the snow. Between the peaks, clouds steamed and rosy light gathered. Ten thousand zhang of morning glow scattered over the sea of clouds, creating a scene like a fairyland. Zhenzhen had no mind to look closely and continued climbing upward. After walking for a while, she felt hungry and took out one of the taro roots the peasant woman had given her. She peeled it and tasted it. Seeing the mountain valley was exceptionally quiet, she remembered the peasant woman’s words and secretly worried that a fierce beast might suddenly leap out from some thicket. She didn’t dare stop walking, eating as she walked.

After rounding a cliff, she suddenly heard the sound of a qin coming from ahead. She didn’t know what tune was being played, but felt the music was long and distant, merging with the pine wind in the ten thousand valleys like heavenly sounds and Buddhist chants that calmed the mind and spirit.

Sensing the presence of people, Zhenzhen held a mouthful of taro in her mouth. She couldn’t be bothered to swallow it now and quickened her pace, running toward the sound of the qin.

Ahead, facing the mountain valley, there was a small pavilion standing on rocks jutting out from the mountain cliff. In the pavilion were a qin table and incense altar. Misty smoke rose from a small bronze Boshan incense burner. A scholar wearing a cloak trimmed with snow-white sable fur faced the sea of clouds in the valley, playing the qin. Behind him stood a book boy of about ten years old in silent attendance.

Zhenzhen quietly approached the pavilion and turned to the scholar’s side, wanting to see his face. During a pause in his qin playing, the scholar slightly turned his head. At that moment, golden-red morning light caressed his snow-white figure. He half-closed his eyes, his hand covering the icy strings. Just his profile alone showed clear and cold elegance, luminous as a deity.

Recognizing this person as the “crane spirit” she had seen last night, Zhenzhen was about to cry out in surprise. She had just opened her mouth when she realized there was still taro in it, so she forced herself to swallow it. Being too hasty, the qi and blood in her chest became blocked for a moment. An inexplicable qi rushed about between her chest and throat, finally escaping her control and surging out from her throat…

The result was that she burped loudly.

The qin music stopped abruptly. She covered her mouth, her other hand still holding half a taro root, feeling utterly ashamed under the calm gaze of that handsome crane spirit as he looked back.

She and the “crane spirit” locked eyes, still in a daze, when she suddenly heard someone behind her shout angrily: “How are you here? Don’t tell me you followed me to find my young master?”

Zhenzhen turned around and discovered the person who had appeared behind her was indeed the peasant woman she had seen before. She now carried a piece of rabbit meat and was staring at her with a face full of anger.

Considering her words, Zhenzhen guessed this woman must be a servant in the “crane spirit’s” household. She immediately realized this servant must be displeased that she had stayed in her young master’s room last night, so she harbored malice toward her and used the story of spirit transformation to confuse the facts, wanting to make her stop seeking this young master.

Zhenzhen then calmed down and sneered: “Don’t judge others by yourself, thinking everyone values your young master as much as you do. You think he’s precious as pearls and jade, but in my eyes, he’s not necessarily more important than this taro root.” She deliberately raised the taro root in her hand and said to the servant: “Still having no mood to wipe away cold snot, how can I have the time to accompany vulgar people.”

This was a Chan saying Uncle Pu had mentioned when they sat around the fire roasting taro roots on winter nights in her childhood. He said there was a famous working monk at Hengyue Temple in the Tang Dynasty who was very lazy and loved to eat the leftover food from other monks, so others called him “Lazy Can” (Lazy Remnant). But this Lazy Can monk was actually a master who understood Buddhist law and was learned in ancient and modern times. Lord Ye Li Bi heard his Buddhist chanting echoing through the mountains and determined he must be no ordinary person, so he went to pay respects to him. The monk dug out a taro root from a pile of cow dung fire, ate half himself, and handed the other half to Li Bi. Li Bi took it and ate it all. Lazy Can monk instructed: “Be careful not to speak too much, and you shall receive ten years as prime minister.” Later, when another lord came to request he come down from the mountain, he said while eating taro: “Still having no mood to wipe away cold snot, how can I have the time to accompany vulgar people.” This meant the taro was so delicious that he didn’t even have time to wipe his runny nose, so how could he have time to accompany this vulgar person.

The servant didn’t understand this Chan saying and looked at her in astonishment, not knowing how to respond for a moment. But the “crane spirit” understood very well. He stood up and said gently to Zhenzhen: “Miss also knows Master Lazy Can.”

Zhenzhen smiled slightly: “I have at least read books for a few years. But I’m always just a mortal, so I probably don’t qualify to enter your crane spirit’s fairyland. That’s why you threw me out in the middle of the night.”

“Hey, you can’t blame my young master for that.” The servant hurriedly explained. “You were sleeping on the floor in the young master’s room like a crab. I really couldn’t stand it, so I carried you to the cave.”

Like a crab? Carried? Zhenzhen was about to get angry and scold her when she heard the young master speak first: “Sanniang, say no more for now.” Then he turned to Zhenzhen: “Not waiting for you to wake up before asking you to leave was not proper host behavior. We were wrong, and I hope you can forgive us. My humble dwelling is in the mountain valley. If you don’t mind, why not stay a moment and have lunch at my humble home before continuing your journey.”

Zhenzhen was still somewhat angry and had wanted to refuse outright, but glancing at Sanniang, she changed her mind: If I accept her young master’s invitation and let her watch with her own eyes as he entertains me, wouldn’t she be even more annoyed?

So her mood immediately brightened, and she showed an elegant and gracious smile to the “crane spirit,” indicating she didn’t mind going.

Zhenzhen followed the “crane spirit” and his party down the mountain from the other side of the cliff, coming to his garden residence located in the mountain valley. During this time, Zhenzhen asked his name. He said his surname was Lin and his given name was Hong, the “hong” from “hong cheng xu tan, hao rong hang ya.” Seeing Zhenzhen looked quite confused, he changed his explanation: “The ‘hong’ from ‘one pool of autumn water, one round moon.'” Although Zhenzhen hadn’t heard this poem before, she could still understand “one pool of autumn water,” so she nodded and praised: “What a clear and pure name.”

Lin Hong’s garden residence was located by the water in the mountains. The garden was surrounded by thorny plants, interspersed with bamboo reaching over a zhang high. Outside the fence grew taro, chestnuts, and fruit trees, while inside several layers of plum blossoms were planted. Entering the garden, Zhenzhen saw a pond in front of the house, so clear you could see the bottom. On one side of the pond, rocks were piled to form a hill, with spring water flowing down from the rock pile, accompanied by the tinkling sound of jade ornaments as it fell into the pond.

In the pond was a small island with a bamboo crane house built on it. Two red-crowned cranes were playing in the water by the shore. Seeing Lin Hong arrive, both spread their wings and danced. With flowers and bamboo reflecting each other in this garden, bird songs and crane calls, it was even more like a mountain forest.

The residence had two courtyards. The front yard had four or five rooms for Lin Hong’s living, book storage, and incense blending. The back yard housed the kitchen, wine cellar, and quarters for the servant woman, book boy, and gardener.

Lin Hong invited Zhenzhen to sit in the main hall of the front yard and rest briefly, then left immediately. After a while, Sanniang came in with a cold face and set up a table. She placed a large tin tray on the table surface, filled the tray with water to serve as insulation, then put a red clay three-legged small wind stove for boiling water in the tray. On the stove she placed a copper kettle, removed the lid, and inside was half a pot of hot water boiling.

Then Sanniang brought several dishes of seasonings—soy sauce, vinegar, orange preserves, scallions, and the like. After waiting a moment, she presented a large plate of thinly sliced meat, thin as fish sashimi, with several pieces arranged in flower shapes on the plate, red and white looking quite beautiful.

Zhenzhen asked what kind of meat this was. Sanniang said: “Wild rabbit meat. My son got it hunting today. I originally wanted to give it to the young master to eat, but he said he’s not eating meat these days, so you’re getting the benefit.”

Zhenzhen asked why the young master wasn’t to be seen. Sanniang said: “He never eats with others. He always dines alone in his own room.”

Sanniang placed the bowls and dishes in front of Zhenzhen. Seeing the water in the kettle was already boiling, she handed her chopsticks, indicating she should take the seasonings herself and pick up meat to blanch. Zhenzhen had never seen this way of eating before and asked Sanniang how long the meat should be blanched. Sanniang said: “You pick it up and swish it in the water a few times. When you see the meat change color, you can eat it.”

Zhenzhen did as instructed. The boiling water in the kettle churned like white waves on a river. The meat slices were bright red, and when picked up and swished in the water, they resembled evening glow and flowing clouds. Gradually the color faded in a most wondrous way.

Zhenzhen first tasted the meat without dipping it in seasonings. The texture was salty and fragrant. She asked Sanniang if the meat had been marinated beforehand with wine, sauce, and peppercorns. Sanniang acknowledged this and said: “You little miss have quite a discerning palate to taste all these flavors.”

Zhenzhen smiled and earnestly invited Sanniang to eat together. Sanniang declined for a while, but when Zhenzhen invited her repeatedly, she took the opportunity to sit down. Both took seasonings and blanched the rabbit meat slices, eating heartily.

Eating happily, Sanniang proactively told Zhenzhen that the young master had given this blanched meat dish a beautiful name, calling it “Stirring the Rosy Clouds.” Upon Zhenzhen’s detailed inquiry, she learned that Lin Hong was skilled in culinary arts, cooking his own meals daily and often innovating. She praised: “Your young master’s residence is elegant and refined everywhere. I didn’t expect he would also excel at kitchen work. His future wife won’t know how much worry she’ll be saved.”

Sanniang said: “Exactly. My young master comes from a prestigious family, has handsome looks, vast learning, and can cook. I don’t know how many girls want to marry him. Every few days, there are always women running around near him. When the young master ignores them, they’ll even fabricate life stories trying to trick him into taking them in.”

Zhenzhen asked how they fabricated stories. Sanniang told her: “Nothing more than family fortunes declining, being separated from parents, having nowhere to go, being penniless, wanting to follow the master to learn skills, and such.”

Zhenzhen immediately understood this was the reason Sanniang disliked her—she was worried Zhenzhen was also here to trick Lin Hong into taking her in. She thought to herself that someone like her, whose family had genuinely been broken up and scattered, wouldn’t be distracted by romantic feelings and forget her original purpose. No matter how wonderful Lin Hong was, he couldn’t detain her heart from seeking Master Wen Qiao… Calling Master Wen Qiao “teacher” was Uncle Pu’s suggestion. He said people commonly called virtuous and respected old Chan masters “teacher.” This Master Wen Qiao lived in the mountains and was obviously an old Chan master. Calling him “master” wasn’t enough to show special respect—when Zhenzhen met him, she should call him “teacher.”

To clear herself with Sanniang, Zhenzhen agreed with her in expressing contempt for those women who fabricated life stories, saying: “These women, in pursuit of the young master, don’t even care about their dignity. To fabricate stories like this, how can they face their parents’ teachings? They truly disgrace us young ladies!”

Sanniang was very pleased to hear this. She went to fetch fruits, vegetables, pastries, and rice wine sweet as honey, and drank and chatted happily with Zhenzhen in great harmony. She even said her surname was Xin, and Zhenzhen could call her Xin Sanniang or Sister Xin San.

This lunch lasted for an hour and a half. Zhenzhen saw it was getting late and stood up to take her leave. Xin Sanniang asked her to wait a moment, washed the cups and bowls she had used, and together with the utensils she had used for chicken soup and flower tea last night, stuffed them all into her hands for her to take away.

Zhenzhen saw these cups and bowls were of superior quality, definitely not ordinary items, so she declined: “How can I feel comfortable with this, eating and taking things…”

Xin Sanniang waved her hand grandly: “It’s fine, take them all. The young master won’t want them anyway since you’ve used them.”

Xin Sanniang escorted Zhenzhen to outside the garden gate. Zhenzhen said goodbye to her and was about to leave when she suddenly noticed a small wooden sign hanging on one side of the garden gate with three characters written on it: Wen Qiao Inn.

This wooden sign was quite small, and when she entered the garden, she had been focused on exploring the scenery inside, so she hadn’t noticed it. Now seeing it, she was startled and hurriedly asked Xin Sanniang: “Your young master’s garden is called Wen Qiao Inn?”

Xin Sanniang confirmed it was. Zhenzhen’s smile had already frozen in the wind: “So Master Lin is Master Wen Qiao?”

“That’s right,” Xin Sanniang said. “This place is called Wen Qiao Inn, so people in the mountains all call him Master Wen Qiao.”

Zhenzhen asked sheepishly, lowering her voice: “May I go back to see Master Wen Qiao again?”

Going back to see Lin Hong, Zhenzhen lowered her head and presented him with Zhao Huaiyu’s letter. Lin Hong took out the letter and read it, then silently studied her for a while.

Zhenzhen asked guiltily: “What did Young Master Zhao’s letter say?”

Lin Hong slowly brought the unfolded letter before her eyes: “He said you lost your father as a child, and now you’ve been separated from your mother. Your family has suffered misfortune, you have nowhere to go, and you don’t have much money. He hopes I can take you in and allow you to learn skills here… Is this correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Zhenzhen forced herself to remain calm, matter-of-factly ignoring the burning fury in Xin Sanniang’s eyes, and tried to show Lin Hong her smile that was embarrassed yet innocent, “Teacher Lin.”