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 ins...