They waited like this for three whole days and
nights.
On this island, day and night alternated at a
strange pace --- in the daytime the sun blazed like midsummer, yet at midnight
one could see snow filling the sky.
The soldiers took turns keeping watch outside
the courtyard fence. They watched the morning glories bloom and wither again
and again, watched the basket of wild fruit inside the yard empty and fill up
once more, yet never again did the child appear, nor did the so-called immortal
show himself.
Whispers began to spread --- some said this was
nothing but an empty island, and the child was merely a spirit guarding it;
some secretly threw stones into the bamboo grove, only for them to rebound off
an invisible barrier and smash into their own heads, leaving them bloodied.
Li Juntang never said a word. Each morning, he
would tidy his battle robe, bow respectfully toward the tightly closed bamboo
gate, then sit on a rock with eyes closed, as if firmly convinced someone
inside would eventually appear.
On the third evening, as the last ray of
sunlight filtered through the bamboo branches, casting mottled shadows across
the ground, faint footsteps suddenly came from deep within the grove.
Everyone instantly tensed, gripping their
weapons tight.
An old man in a simple gray Daoist robe slowly
emerged, leaning on a bamboo staff carved with plain cloud patterns at the
head.
His hair and beard were snow-white, yet his
face was rosy like that of a child. His eyes were narrowed into slits, a faint
smile playing at his lips, and though he walked along the path covered with
fallen bamboo leaves, not the slightest sound came from his steps.
Most peculiar of all was the aura about him ---
though he stood right before their eyes, he felt as distant and unreal as mist,
as if he might dissolve into the air at any moment.
“Oh? Rare to see new faces on this island. I
wonder, for what purpose have you come?” The old man spoke, his voice like a
mountain spring, clear and flowing, carrying a warmth that penetrated the
heart.
Li Juntang’s eyes lit up. He leapt to his feet,
straightened his wrinkled robe, and quickly stepped forward to bow deeply, his
posture even more reverent than when facing the child:
“This junior, Li Juntang, has led his men to
Penglai Island, humbly begging the Immortal Elder to grant us a celestial pill
to save my ailing elder at home.”
He deliberately emphasized the words celestial
pill, his gaze fixed on the old man, afraid to miss even the slightest
change in his expression.
At those words, the old man suddenly chuckled,
the wrinkles at his eyes deepening into folds. “A celestial pill?”
He gave his staff a light tap against the
ground. Several withered bamboo leaves instantly transformed into tender green
shoots.
“People say Penglai has immortals, and
immortals have pills. Yet few realize that what is called a fairyland is, in
truth, but a place of life and death’s eternal cycle.”
Li Juntang’s heart sank. “Elder, what do you
mean? I have seen ancient records stating Penglai truly holds an elixir of
immortality.”
“Ancient records also contain falsehoods.” The
old man raised his hand to interrupt, a flash of brilliance in his narrow eyes.
“There have never been immortals on this island, and no celestial pills either.
I fear you are destined for disappointment.”
“Impossible!” Li Juntang blurted out, then at
once realized his offense. Bowing again, he said hurriedly, “This junior spoke
rudely. It is only that my dearest kin is gravely ill, and only such a pill can
save them. I beg the Elder to show us the way.”
As he spoke, he dropped heavily to his knees.
His voice trembled with sincerity:
“So long as I can find a cure, even should it
cost me my life nine times over, I will not hesitate!”
Behind him, the soldiers also knelt as one,
pleading loudly.
The old man gazed at the kneeling men in
silence for a while, then sighed softly. “Though there is no so-called
celestial pill, there does exist a certain Medicine Valley on this island.
Within it grow spirit herbs that may prolong life --- perhaps they can aid
you.”
“Excellent!”
Li Juntang’s eyes shone. “May I ask, Elder,
where is this Medicine Valley? Would you point the way for us?”
“The valley lies at the very center of the
island.”
The old man gestured with his staff toward the
distance. “But be warned --- within dwell man-eating vines and beasts that
guard the herbs. Since ancient times, none who entered have ever come back
alive. You would do well to think carefully.”
“Many thanks for your guidance, Elder. No
matter the dangers ahead, we will not give up!” Li Juntang declared solemnly.
After such hardship, finally reaching Penglai
Island --- how could they possibly abandon their quest so easily?
The old man shook his head, his staff pointing
toward the mist-shrouded peaks at the island’s heart.
“If you truly wish to go, follow the stream
that runs inward. But heed this: do not be greedy. To leave alive at all will
already be a blessing.”
With that, the old man turned and walked back
into the bamboo grove. His figure soon disappeared behind the gray-blue houses,
as though he had never been there.
Li Juntang did not linger. Having gained a clear direction, he immediately led his remaining soldiers straight toward the island’s center. - Ton
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