29: Mountain gate welcomes new guests

On the fifteenth of the twelfth lunar month, the atmosphere of the New Year was growing thicker.

On the cement road of Zhaojiaao Village, the sound of suitcase wheels rolling over the frozen earth rose and fell. Young and middle-aged workers returning from their jobs and students coming back from their studies returned home like birds to their nests. Kitchen smoke rose half an hour earlier than usual, and from every household came the rhythmic sound of grinding tofu, the sweet steam of steaming New Year cakes, and the noisy laughter of long-awaited reunions.

Zhao Desheng's granddaughter, Zhao Xiaowen, had arrived home on the thirteenth of the twelfth lunar month.

A junior journalism student at a key university in the Provincial Capital, she had chestnut-colored shoulder-length hair, a plaid shirt under her down jacket, jeans paired with hiking boots, and a bulging camera bag always slung over her shoulder. She carried the brisk rhythm characteristic of the city, which felt out of place with the slow winter days of the mountain village.

On her third day home, she noticed something unusual.

At the dinner table, her grandmother mentioned "Daoist Master Li on the mountain" for the umpteenth time—healing illnesses with well water, withered trees blooming in spring, winter as warm as spring, Laba congee warming the body... her words were full of piety.

"Grandma, you've been brainwashed, haven't you?" Zhao Xiaowen put down her chopsticks, her tone carrying the seriousness of a journalism student. "What era is this? You still believe in this supernatural stuff? He's probably just a Jianghu charlatan who knows a bit about herbs and the weather."

"Nonsense!" Her grandmother's face hardened. "The Abbot is a living immortal! That time with Uncle Tie Zhu's son, Xiaoshan, the hospital said there was no hope, but the Abbot saved him with a bowl of water! And your Second Aunt's child..."

"Maybe it was just a coincidental recovery? It's true the well water tastes good; I've even tested the water quality." Zhao Xiaowen interrupted, pulling a silver water quality testing pen from her bag. "Our groundwater here is naturally good."

Her aunt chimed in from the side, "But it's ten degrees warmer in the temple than outside! The snow melts as soon as it falls, and the vegetable garden is lush and green; we've all seen it!"

"It's just a microclimate caused by the specific terrain," Zhao Xiaowen said dismissively. "There are places in Yunnan where it's like spring all year round."

But the certain looks in her family's eyes made her increasingly curious—or rather, her professional sensitivity as a journalist was piqued.

"An ancient temple deep in the mountains, a mysterious young Taoist, all sorts of anomalies..." Several viral short video titles flashed through her mind. "If it's fake, I have to expose him; if it's real... that's big news!"

The next morning, ignoring her family's reminders to "be respectful," she changed into a windbreaker and checked her gear: a professional DSLR, an action camera, a drone, a recording pen, a water quality testing pen, and she even brought a portable thermal imager. She set her phone to recording mode and tucked it into her chest pocket, with a miniature microphone hidden under her collar.

Fully armed, she looked like a reporter about to head to a battlefield.

The mountain path was difficult to traverse. The frozen ground was slippery, and the remaining snow had not yet melted. She walked until she was panting, her boots quickly becoming covered in mud. But as she climbed higher, the air indeed stopped being bone-chilling, and a faint warmth seemed to drift down from the mountain peak. When she turned the last bend, she was stunned.

On the mountain ridge, the Taoist temple lay quietly like an ancient beast.

The blue tiles were mottled, the walls bore deep stains from rainwater, and a collapsed corner of a side hall revealed rotting wood. There was no grandeur, no swirling incense smoke, and not even a proper mountain gate—only two old pines flanking a set of bluestone steps, where the moss was still green.

This dilapidated sight actually made her doubt her skepticism a little: shouldn't a fraud make their facade look more impressive?

She steadied herself and stepped up the stairs.

The moment she stepped through the courtyard gate, the temperature change was like crossing seasons.

Inside the courtyard, it was as warm as late spring, and the air was moist and fresh. The ancient cypress tree directly ahead was lush and emerald green, eerily striking amidst the surrounding withered yellow forest. In the vegetable patch beneath the tree, the cabbage and radishes were green and upright, with no trace of frost on their leaves. The bluestone of the well was warm, and steam curled from the mouth of the well.

Zhao Xiaowen froze in place for three seconds before instinctively raising her DSLR.

The sound of the shutter was exceptionally clear in the silent courtyard. She took several photos in succession and then quickly pulled out the thermal imager—the screen showed that the temperature of the entire courtyard was 8-12°C higher than the surrounding area, and the distribution was uniform, unlike there being a hidden heat source.

"An underground hot spring? Special terrain?" she muttered to herself, her gaze shifting toward the Main Hall.

The hall doors were wide open, and the interior was dimly lit. A clay deity statue was dimly visible, with an empty meditation cushion in front of it. A grey figure had his back to the door, unhurriedly wiping the offering table with a soft cloth.

Was that Daoist Master Li? He was incredibly young.

Zhao Xiaowen took a deep breath, adjusted her expression, pointed the action camera lens toward the hall, and stepped forward slowly.

"Excuse me... are you Daoist Master Li?" she asked softly.

The wiping hand stopped.

The grey figure turned around.

Their eyes met.

Zhao Xiaowen's breath hitched.

He was too young—judging by his face, he was only in his early twenties. His features were handsome and clear, and his skin had the healthy fairness typical of mountain dwellers. Most captivating were his eyes: clear as melted snow from a mountain peak, deep as an ancient well containing stars. When he looked at her, he was as calm as still water, as if she were merely a leaf blown by the mountain wind.

She had never seen this kind of otherworldly serenity in anyone before.

"taoist greeting," the young Taoist nodded slightly. "It is indeed this poor Taoist. What advice does the Lay Practitioner have?"

His voice was peaceful, without joy or anger, as if stating a fact.

"I... I am Zhao Xiaowen from Zhaojiaao Village, a university student in the Provincial Capital." She hurried to return the greeting, her mind racing for an explanation. "I heard from my family that the temple is... very special, so I came up to take a look."

As she spoke, she scanned the interior of the hall with her peripheral vision.

The furnishings were simple but exceptionally clean; the bluestone floor was polished enough to reflect shadows. That clay deity statue... when Zhao Xiaowen's gaze met the statue's face, her heart inexplicably grew still.

The statue was simple and unadorned, the clay unpainted and the features blurred, yet it possessed an indescribable aura. Especially at the "eyes"—even though there were no pupils, she felt she was being watched gently. Her days of anxiety, her prying curiosity, and even that bit of pride in "exposing a scam" all melted away like snow meeting the sun.

The sharp questions she had prepared could not be asked.

"The Taoist temple is simple, with only peace and quiet to offer," Li Muchen's voice rang out. "Lay Practitioner, feel free to look around, but please do not make noise in the hall or touch the statue and ritual items."

His tone was flat, yet it held its own authority.

Zhao Xiaowen nodded blankly and backed out of the hall.

She wandered around the courtyard, testing the PH and TDS values of the well water; it was indeed high-quality weak alkaline water, but not "divine water." She took detailed photos of the ancient cypress tree; the veins of the leaves were clear, and it was vibrantly alive in a way that defied the season.

Finally, she launched her drone.

The small silver machine hummed as it rose, the lens providing a bird's-eye view of the entire temple—mottled roofs, a square courtyard, the ancient cypress tree like an umbrella, and the vegetable patch like a chessboard. Everything was normally abnormal.

She controlled the drone to go higher, wanting to check the surrounding terrain. When it reached twenty meters, the video transmission suddenly flickered with static.

"Signal interference?" She frowned, trying to pull it back.

But the drone was like a kite with a broken string, wobbling as it crashed toward a giant pine tree nearby!

"Oh no!" Zhao Xiaowen cried out, frantically pressing the remote control, but there was no response.

Just as the drone was about to be destroyed—

A slender hand reached out from the side and made a grasping motion in the air.

The drone's downward momentum stopped abruptly, as if held by an invisible hand, and it slowly landed in that palm.

Zhao Xiaowen's eyes widened as she looked at Li Muchen, who had appeared beside her at some unknown time. He held the drone, his expression as usual.

"The mountain currents are complex and the magnetic field is unstable; electronic equipment is easily disturbed." He handed the drone back. "Be careful next time."

The explanation was perfectly reasonable.

But Zhao Xiaowen had seen it clearly: that moment just now could never be explained by air currents or magnetic fields! Was that... telekinesis? Supernatural power?

She took the drone, her hands trembling slightly. When she looked at Li Muchen again, her gaze had completely changed—shock, confusion, disbelief, and a trace of awe that she hadn't even noticed herself.

"Th... thank you, Abbot." Her voice was dry.

Li Muchen nodded slightly and turned to walk slowly back into the hall.

Zhao Xiaowen stood in place for a long time without moving.

The drone in her hand was undamaged, and that magical scene played over and over in her mind. The warmth in the courtyard enveloped her, the ancient cypress tree was blindingly green, and the sensation of being "watched" by the statue in the hall still lingered in her heart... All her doubts, all her "scientific explanations," collapsed at this moment.

She packed away all her equipment and, facing the Main Hall, followed her grandmother's example and bowed respectfully.

When she turned to go down the mountain, her steps were unsteady.

In her camera bag, the material she had prepared to post online for "verification" now felt as heavy as a thousand catties. She suddenly understood that some things were not meant to be captured by a lens.

The mountain wind brushed past the Taoist temple, and the copper bells on the eaves chimed softly.

Inside the hall, Li Muchen sat back down on the cold jade meditation cushion and closed his eyes to enter meditation.

Within his Spiritual Sense, the girl's flustered silhouette as she left was as clear as if he were seeing it. He knew that another pebble had been thrown into the lake of the mortal world, and where the ripples would spread was yet unknown.

But now that the mountain gate was open, the coming and going of guests was all a matter of fate.

He only needed to sit quietly in the temple and watch the clouds roll and unfurl.