“But, Celestial Immortal…”

The old Mountain God opened his mouth, seeming to have some difficulty speaking.

Chen Changsheng smiled warmly. “Hold true to the way of a righteous god, and offerings will never cease.”

The old Mountain God let out a long sigh and said respectfully, “Thank you, Celestial Immortal, for your guidance.”

“Go on.”

Chen Changsheng waved his hand. The old Mountain God bid him farewell and then, not lingering, faded into a wisp of white smoke right where he stood.

Chen Changsheng swept his gaze over the mountain’s elegant shape. Seeing its top rise like a rooster’s comb, he couldn’t help but murmur, “So it really is Chicken Comb Mountain.”

He gave a small smile, withdrew his gaze, and turned to go back to the temple.

To his surprise, someone had already been watching from the temple entrance for quite some time.

Headman Cao couldn’t see the Mountain God, but he caught every word Mr. Chen spoke.

“Who were you talking to just now, sir?” Headman Cao asked.

Chen Changsheng looked at him and said, “Don’t listen to the sounds of rain piercing the woods and beating the leaves…”

The words seemed almost playful as they left his lips.

Headman Cao paused inwardly. He had a good guess about who the master was conversing with.

But being sensible, he didn’t bring it up again.

Headman Cao felt inside his robe, pulled out a baked pancake, and handed it to the master. “Please allow me to offer you this baked pancake.”

“Then I shall treat you to wine,” Chen Changsheng said, uncorking his wine gourd.

The aroma of wine drifted out.

Headman Cao took a sniff, and a smile appeared on his face.

The two exchanged smiles and left the matter unspoken.

Headman Cao kept it in his heart. He vaguely understood that this master probably did not wish for formality to create distance from their group. Though their meeting was fleeting, wasn’t it still a kind of fate?

This master was not only remarkable, but also wonderfully interesting.

When the sky lightened fully, Headman Cao rode alone to a nearby district-town.

In about one hour, he returned with incense and candles.

After distributing them, everyone sincerely offered three sticks of burning incense each in the Mountain God Temple.

After many neglected years, wispy blue smoke once again rose from this shabby temple nestled in the mountain stream.

Chen Changsheng watched the unceasing tendrils of incense above the burner and remarked, “As long as offerings burn, the way of the divine shall flourish.”

Er Niu sidled up to the caravan leader and whispered, “Chief, shouldn’t that master offer incense too?”

Headman Cao thought for a moment then answered, “If Mr. Chen offered incense, the Mountain God Lord probably wouldn’t dare accept it.”

Er Niu blinked, confused. But by then, the caravan leader had already walked out of the temple.

“What did that mean?”

He scratched his head, befuddled. He never was one to ponder such things deeply. With a shake of his head, he simply stopped thinking about it.

The caravan set off once more.

Along the journey, Chen Changsheng chatted casually with the caravan leader, much like the day before.

Headman Cao naturally responded openly, but his words lacked their former ease.

He didn’t dare utter anything foolish; crude remarks completely vanished. This caution likely stemmed from sensing Mr. Chen’s extraordinary nature.

Facing him now just didn’t feel as casual as before.

When drinking wine, he no longer caught it in his cupped hands. Instead, he fetched a wineskin and waited for the master to pour it before drinking.

Chen Changsheng noticed the stiffness in his manner. “Why be troubled, Caravan Leader? We are both travellers on the road, eating the same baked pancakes. I am no different from you all.”

Headman Cao was inwardly struck by the words. After a moment’s thought he said, “Please forgive my inadequacies, Master.”

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng sighed softly but said nothing more.

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He had expected this.

When this simple caravan leader suddenly became overly proper, Chen Changsheng felt the man before him was less genuine than he’d been the day before.

It was rather a pity.

For the remainder of the journey, Headman Cao did not see the master speak again.

The master simply walked alongside them, occasionally pulling out his gourd to sip wine.

He walked amidst many people, yet seemed profoundly alone.

Headman Cao regretted this distance, yet truly couldn’t help it. Now, conversing with Mr. Chen, he instinctively lowered his posture – a respect rooted deep within.

Yet this master seemed not to want such reverence.

The merchant caravan pressed onward. After leaving Chicken Comb Mountain, they passed through several districts, stopping briefly for water before continuing.

They should have arrived by noon, but exhaustion from the previous night’s lack of proper rest caused further delays. Not until dusk did they finally reach Yan County.

Lotus Root Lane in Yan County was famed for its expansive lotus ponds. A renowned poet once composed a famous piece about it, later praised by a former emperor, thus making Lotus Root Lane famous throughout the land.

Even before entering the lane, Chen Changsheng saw vast stretches of lotus ponds clustering outside.

It was early summer, and many lotus blossoms in the ponds had opened, vying in beauty. A light sniff carried their refreshing fragrance, relaxing and soothing the heart.

Far on the horizon, fiery layers of clouds bathed the lotus ponds in glorious light – a breathtaking view.

Chen Changsheng took a sip of Autumn Moon Brew and murmured softly,

“The setting sun slants, casting shadows to the east;

One sky aflame, half the pond dyed red.”

Headman Cao wasn’t well-read, but even he felt the poem sounded quite fine, certainly better than those composed by many students in nearby districts.

“The master wields words well,” Headman Cao remarked.

Chen Changsheng smiled pleasantly. “I was just idly murmuring. Can’t compare to true scholars.”

“I don’t understand poetry,” Headman Cao admitted. “At the end of the day, I can only say it’s a good poem.”

Chen Changsheng chuckled. “Poetry is made for people to enjoy. One doesn’t need vast knowledge. In the word of common folk, good is good, bad is bad.”

Headman Cao nodded. He couldn’t help but feel admiration; the truths this master spoke always felt so… comfortable.

Headman Cao said, “We were delayed half a day on the road. By this hour, there might be no boatmen by the river. Maybe you should rest here in the lane for the night?”

Chen Changsheng pondered briefly, then agreed. “Alright.”

Once inside the lane, Headman Cao settled Chen Changsheng at an inn.

Chen Changsheng didn’t refuse, as he indeed carried little silver on him.

“Master, stay here first. I shall see to my tasks and return to find you.”

“Go handle your duties first.”

After Headman Cao left, he headed for the trading firm.

Chen Changsheng stepped to the window and lifted his eyes to look outside.

The sky deepened into crimson dusk.

Gazing out from this window, he could still see the beautiful lotus ponds glowing beyond the lane.

“This place feels rather soothing.”

Chen Changsheng exhaled deeply. Seizing the last light, he went downstairs for a stroll through the lane.

The people here seemed to live unhurried lives.

Even now, he saw many leisurely sauntering along the streets.

People flowed to and fro, talking and laughing.

Passersby wore smiles, simply enjoying the calm of twilight.

Chen Changsheng strolled and strolled, only to find himself back at the lane entrance. “How did I walk the wrong way…”

He laughed, resigned, and let it be. Well, he might as well enjoy the sight of the lotus ponds at dusk one more time.