Descending to Earth (Part 3)
He Shu swallowed the pastry in his mouth without answering.
Of course, he would not admit that he was deeply impressed by the tempting description of the peach cake in the book, which made him crave it for a long time.
"By the way, girl, how did you know this?"
"Of course it's because... I've seen it."
"Hey, it turns out the girl really is..."
"It seems that the young master didn't notice."
The woman interrupted He Shu and pointed at the teahouse sign carved on a wooden board not far away, and continued:
"This teahouse uses the phrase 'sweet but not cloying, crispy but not mushy' to promote their pastries."
"Almost everyone in Chaisang City has heard this. I think the author should know it too. He might even really like the crispy abalone and snails from this teahouse, so he wrote it in his book."
He Shu looked in the direction she pointed and saw the sign with these words engraved on it. After being stunned for a moment, he suddenly stood up.
"So... the author should be from Chaisang City?"
Then he wouldn't have to travel all over the world to find that fraudulent bookseller, and could just go directly to meet the author of "Qi Xiang Zhi".
He Shu, who had already prepared to sneak into the homes of nobles to steal books, suddenly felt that the road ahead was bright, but the woman's next words made him feel discouraged again.
"Yes, sir, my family... once had some contact with a certain author, but..."
The woman sighed softly, her fingertips stroking the edge of the teacup, her tone regretful but revealing a hint of detachment, as if she was out of the matter.
"The author is in poor health and has stopped writing. Only four volumes of this book, 'Qi Xiang Zhi', have been published, so..."
"What!"
He Shu suppressed a low exclamation and walked to the woman. He was about to say something but suddenly became speechless. He opened his mouth and finally walked back to his seat in silence.
"Is that so..."
This was simply the most devastating piece of news that had distressed him today!
It would be useless even if we found an author.
No matter how hard you try, it's futile to search for an ending that wasn't written at all.
He Shu lowered his head silently, and the veil of his hat also dropped, covering up his lonely look. The noisy voices in the teahouse gradually faded away, and the surrounding noise seemed to be isolated by an invisible barrier, leaving only a heavy silence that made him breathless.
The woman saw his sadness and seemed reluctant. She lowered her head and thought for a while before she slowly said:
"Young Master."
"The author stopped writing a year or two ago. I'm not sure what the situation is now. Maybe he's started writing again, but we don't know yet."
The woman whispered,
"If you really like the book 'Knowing Each Other', you might try your luck at Luzhu Mountain outside the city. The author currently resides there."
"I think... he would be very happy if he knew that there was someone who appreciated his work so much."
"Thank you for telling me, young lady."
He Shu still had his head down, immersed in sorrow and unable to come back to his senses, but he still heard the comfort in the woman's words.
He thought pessimistically that even if he met an author, it would not change anything.
You can't force a patient to continue writing books. That would be too inhumane. If the Heavenly Court knew about it, he would be punished by being struck by lightning for abusing mortals.
When he ascended to immortality, he had an opportunity and did not experience the three disasters and six difficulties that he had to endure during the transition period. Therefore, he did not know what it felt like to be struck by heavenly thunder, but he was still afraid from the bottom of his heart and could not help but feel terrified at the thought of it.
"Is the author's illness serious?"
He Shu forced himself not to think about the terrible thunder punishment and asked casually.
"I don't know. I just heard the doctors say they couldn't figure out what disease he had, and they couldn't prescribe the right medicine. They could only use expensive tonics to keep him alive."
"this……"
"If you've decided to go find him, you'd better go as soon as possible. After all, the doctors have all declared his illness incurable... Don't expect him to come back empty-handed."
The woman's tone was flat, as if she was talking about an ordinary little thing, and there was no trace of heaviness in her voice. However, this made He Shu feel even more sympathetic. He frowned and secretly decided to meet this author.
Although I am not a professional doctor, I still know some healing techniques, so it should not be difficult for me to cure mortal diseases.
Thinking this, he stood up.
Just think of it as a reward to the author for writing such a story that suits his taste. Besides, he can continue to write books after he recovers from his illness. This will help him accumulate merit and he can also see the ending of the story. It is really a good thing to kill two birds with one stone.
"Miss, you're right. I have to leave first. This snack is a thank you gift. I hope you don't mind it."
He Shu left the purse behind and was about to leave, but the woman stopped him:
"It's getting late now. If you want to visit an author, it would be more appropriate to go tomorrow at noon."
The woman also stood up, picked up the purse, and handed it back to He Shu.
"Meeting is destiny, so why would I covet your money?"
She whispered, and with her free hand she slowly lowered the veil that was still hanging over the brim of the hat of the person opposite her.
"Then...then this..."
Looking at the purse that was returned to him, He Shu hesitated, not knowing what to do, but the woman did not take her hand back, so he had to take the purse embarrassedly and put it back in his arms.
"Girl, please keep this feather pendant as a token of your appreciation."
While collecting his purse, He Shu conjured up the feathers on his arm, and reluctantly plucked a few of them. A faint light flickered at his fingertips hidden in his sleeves, and silver threads and silk ropes appeared out of thin air, wrapping around the feathers as if they had life, and in an instant formed into an exquisite pendant, faintly flowing with magical power to dispel evil.
This woman has helped him a lot. They, as immortals, attach great importance to cause and effect and fate, and cannot owe others anything casually.
Fortunately, she did not refuse this time, took the pendant and sat back.
"Then I would like to thank you, sir."
The two of them chatted politely for a while, and then He Shu left on the pretext of having something to do.
He listened to the woman's advice, and the next morning he told Heqi where he was going and went to Luzhu Mountain alone.
Because he had so little information, he first searched around the foot of the mountain and found that most of the people living in these villages were rough hunters and farmers, who didn't seem like people who could write books.
After running for nearly a whole morning, although he did not find the person he was looking for, he did not return empty-handed. An enthusiastic mountain villager told him that there was a house on a flat open space on the mountainside. The eldest son of the Li family, a wealthy businessman in the city, lived in the house. He was a scholar and had passed the imperial examination a few years ago. Unfortunately, his health was not good and he could not continue his studies.
The mountain folks also chattered about some strange stories in the mountains, ferocious beasts and strange birds, but He Shu responded absentmindedly.
With an accurate destination in mind, he concentrated on sensing the spiritual energy in the mountains in a deserted place and soon locked onto a small house on the mountainside.
The breath of life there was particularly strong, especially a peach tree, which had already blossomed like a cloud of brocade when the flower buds were still incipient at the foot of the mountain.
He went there quietly in stealth. The cottage lay quietly on the hillside. The peach tree in the yard was in full bloom, and the whole tree was covered with bright pink clouds, like a dream.
He Shu was amazed and secretly memorized this strange phenomenon. Then he jumped lightly onto the branch and hid among the flowers and leaves.
The warm spring sunshine warmed his whole body. When the breeze blew, the branches of flowers swayed gently, and the tiny petals fluttered up. A pink rain fell silently in the courtyard.
Two or three petals were whirling in the wind, stained with the golden edge of the sun, passing through the window frame with green wood grain, and quietly jumped into the study of the cottage.
He Shu's gaze drifted inside the room. Spread across the desk was a half-finished scroll, its wet ink outlining the vibrant outlines of peach branches, clusters of rouge-colored blossoms waiting to be smudged.
A young man in a plain white shirt lowered his eyes to gaze at his pen, his profile gaunt. The line of his nose appeared remarkably straight in the light, while his lips were so pale they were practically colorless.
He Shu held his breath and guessed secretly:
"This must be the author."
He stared at the wolf-hair brush in the young man's hand, which was about to fall, and saw a petal swaying slowly and landing right in the center of the scroll.
The young man stretched out his bony fingers and gently pinched the petal.
Then he raised his eyes and looked at the swaying branches outside the window.
The gaze moved around, seemingly nonchalantly, yet with some kind of insight. Just as it swept across the branch where He Shu was hiding, he seemed to feel that the slightly raised corners of the eyes and the smile on the lips seemed to penetrate the cover and cast a knowing glance at his hiding place.
He Shu's heart suddenly skipped a beat, and a sense of panic that his whereabouts had been discovered instantly gripped him. Subconsciously, he huddled his body tightly against the thick branches, and even his breathing became lighter.
After a long time, when he felt that the gaze that pierced his back had disappeared, He Shu slowly came to his senses and laughed secretly at his own suspicion. How could a mere mortal see through the immortal's invisibility technique?
As he thought about this, he quietly looked out a little.
The wind suddenly blew, and more petals flew in through the window. Some fell into the brush washer, some stained the edge of the inkstone, and a few playfully stuck to the young man's drooping sleeves. He seemed unaware and was only focused on the painting.
As the pen moved, I don't know what kind of scene was described. The faint smile returned to the corner of his mouth, and the very shallow dimples added a touch of vitality to his frail and pale skin, as if even the petals spread out at the tip of the pen were stained with this warmth.
Only then did He Shu's frayed nerves finally relax. He stared at the young man intently painting, his thoughts returning to his initial dilemma. While it was highly likely that the young man was an author, he still wanted to confirm it.
Should he sneak into the study to look for the manuscript while the other person is away? Or should he just show up and meet him?
Then what identity should I use?
A poor scholar who got lost or a wandering doctor?
He Shu frowned in distress. The human relationships in the mortal world were more troublesome than the laws of heaven. He was lost in thought when a clear voice suddenly rang out in his mind.
"Crane Book!"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
