Summer Leisure

There will be a month later.

In the height of summer, the mud pits in the mountains dried in the sun and were filled back up by the rain, and wild grasses grew one after another along the roadside, while the cries of monkeys echoed from both mountains.

A figure in gray slowly walked up the hillside.

Shen Gui hasn't encountered anything major in the past two weeks.

During his journey, he passed through a small mountain village.

That night, Shen Gui found a tree canopy to lean against and doze off, only to hear a young couple arguing inside a thatched hut under the tree.

The man said that there was a sect in Beiyang Prefecture that was recruiting disciples, and he wanted to try his luck. He said he had wanted to cultivate since he was a child but had never had the opportunity.

The woman naturally refused, saying that the family's fields hadn't been harvested yet, and he, a thirty-year-old farmer, was competing with a teenager for some kind of divine opportunity.

The man was stubborn, saying that the sect did not limit the age of its disciples, but only looked at their aptitude. He also said that when he was a child, a wandering Taoist priest had his bones touched, which indicated that he was a "late bloomer".

The woman sneered and asked him if he was still going to claim that he was the reincarnation of Yan Zu.

The man got anxious and said he dared not turn to Yan Zu, but he would be willing to turn to the horse handler next to Yan Zu.

The two argued fiercely until the child woke up, crying and saying, "Dad, stop practicing martial arts and fix the roof first." The man immediately fell silent.

The trivialities of life easily shattered his dreams.

After listening to the conversation from the corner of the temple, Shen Gui tried to understand the couple's emotions. He even pretended to be a wandering master and "accidentally" taught the man a simple boxing stance.

The man was very grateful. The woman said she was not doing proper work, but every night when she was driving piles, she would get up to make some food, worried that her husband would overwork himself.

The man watched, but after practicing for a few days, he couldn't figure it out and gave up, saying that he felt more accomplished planting rice to support his family.

Shen Gui was present throughout and intervened, but Shi Zhui did not react at all.

Mules meet mules, and laymen meet laymen. He often travels at night and has even encountered mountain spirits taking wives.

The other party was an uncivilized wild beast, and for some reason the mountain spirit fell in love. The mountain spirit, imitating the humans, took a copper gong from who-knows-where and banged it all night.

It may sound unpleasant, but it's genuinely joyful. At least it's more festive than when some human brides are married and the bride's family is sullen because the dowry isn't enough.

Shen Gui was the only witness. He gave Shen Gui a cultivation mantra, and when he left, the mountain spirit forced him to eat a lot of ginseng, saying that it could prolong life, which left Shen Gui feeling helpless.

In short, Shen Gui began to actively get involved, sitting, watching, and listening.

I tried to do what I did when I met Ah Yue before, but the three cracks on the stone pendant remained unchanged.

When he left Guhuai Village, he knew where he was going.

But while it's easy to say "empathize," it's difficult to do it.

Especially someone like him, who has lived for over a thousand years, whose heart hasn't truly turned to stone, but has been steeped in the passage of time for so long that many things falling upon it can't even cause a ripple.

Shen Gui was not in a hurry.

There's no use in rushing.

One afternoon, the cicadas were chirping merrily in the trees.

Shen Gui arrived at the Shili Pavilion outside Beiyang Prefecture.

Next to the pavilion, there was a tea stall that was doing brisk business. Mules and horses were tied up outside the stall, and the stall was full of people. There weren't enough benches, so later arrivals squatted under the tree roots to eat dry food.

Shen Gui ordered a bowl of tea and sat in the corner.

It's very noisy around here.

A farmer was with his son, who was eleven or twelve years old and had a tanned face.

The farmer stuffed some bread into his mouth: "Eat up, you'll have the energy to climb the mountain. When you get to the mountain gate, don't say anything out of line. Just answer whatever they ask you, understand?"

The child nodded, his mouth full: "Dad, if I become a disciple, will our family not have to pay the autumn grain tax?"

The farmer quickly covered his mouth: "Young master, how can you say such things? Sects are sects, and the imperial court is the imperial court. Grain still needs to be paid."

A young man carrying a sword next to him sneered.

His clothes were new, his sword sheath was new, and he raised his chin slightly when he spoke.

"A peasant is just a peasant, he doesn't know anything. If a disciple of the Zhaoye Sect is included in the list of those who receive official titles from the imperial court, his family will naturally receive a reduction in their income."

The farmer smiled apologetically, "Young man, you've seen a lot."

The sword-wielding youth was even more smug: "My uncle works in the ceremonial office of the government. The records of how many people and demons Zhaoye Sect recruits each year have to be reviewed by the government."

"You even capture demons?" someone interjected.

The shed became quieter for a moment.

In the corner, a short figure wearing a hood shrank back.

The sword-wielding youth glanced over, his voice turning cold: "Some things, just by putting on a coat, dare to come and ask to be apprentices. What bad luck."

A slightly hoarse voice came from under the hood: "Once I become an apprentice, I'll have a certificate of good demonhood. If you criticize me then, I'll scold you."

"So what if you have a certificate?" the sword-wielding youth sneered. "A certificate? Can a certificate wash away the stench emanating from you?"

The farmer tugged at his child, who, curious, kept looking toward the hood.

The old tea drinker, who was always meddling, tapped his pipe and said, "Alright, alright, say less. They're just sitting here drinking tea and haven't bothered you."

"Old man, are you speaking up for the demon?" The sword-wielding youth frowned.

"I'm just stating the facts. Where do demons come from? Wild animals in the mountains have gained sentience, fish and shrimp in the river have gained sentience. Can you guess which ones can gain sentience? If you can't guess, you can't kill them all. If you really drive them all into the wild forest, what will happen if they cause a demonic disaster in a few years? Will you be the one to deal with it?"

The boy carrying the sword choked.

The old tea drinker took another puff of his cigarette and said:

"The imperial court established the Good Demon Certificate, which is to register the demon race. Once they have an identity, they can be traced when entering the city, trading, or becoming disciples. They can also be caught if they commit crimes. The sects use the imperial court's official title to manage them on behalf of the court and to vouch for their demon disciples."

"This matter was decided by the most important figures in the world sitting down together. Didn't your uncle tell you in the ceremony room?"

Someone was laughing inside the tea stall.

The young man carrying the sword couldn't save face, and he placed his hand on the hilt of the sword.

The old tea drinker put his pipe on the table: "What, you want to draw your sword? The yamen patrolmen come every half hour, you try it."

The sword-wielding youth ultimately did not draw his sword.

He snorted coldly and turned his face away.

The hooded little demon lowered its head, holding the teacup in both hands. Its fingers were short and thick, with a faint blue color between them, as if it had been soaking in water for many years.

It drinks tea very carefully, blowing on it, taking a sip, and then smacking its lips.

Shen Gui glanced at it.

The little demon seemed to sense the gaze and immediately shrank the bowl into its arms.

After a while, it secretly pushed out a little more, as if afraid people would say it was guarding its food.

At this moment, the sound of bells came from the north side of the official road.

A group of young disciples dressed in dark blue robes rode up on horseback, with lantern-shaped wooden plaques hanging on their backs, bearing the words "[Zhaoye]".

The tea stall suddenly became lively.

"The people from Teruno-museum have arrived!"

"Wasn't it said that registration would be done at the mountain gate?"

"Did they change the rules this year?"

The leading disciple dismounted, took out a scroll of yellow notice, and pasted it on a pillar of the Ten Mile Pavilion.

"By order of Beiyang Prefecture and in accordance with the order of Yezong Mountain Gate, those who wish to become disciples this year must first go to the city gate to have their records verified. They shall enter the mountain at dawn tomorrow. Those who are late will not be waited for."

The crowd immediately pushed through.

The farmer picked up his son, the sword-wielding boy pushed the two aside, and the hooded little demon also jumped off the stool. As a result, a crisp "crack" came from under his trouser leg, and a tree branch broke off and fell to the ground.

It fell to the ground and was pushed backward by the crowd, rolling right to Shen Gui's feet.