"Sir, I've heard rumors that the fog ghost on this road is not easy to deal with!" Mr. Li, one of the merchants, said with lingering fear. "It has been causing trouble here for more than a few months. Previously, the county yamen invited experts from the temple, but they couldn't resolve the matter. Now, with the mountain fog after the heavy rain, it has made it even easier for the fog ghost..."

"Yes, and the road is slippery in the dark..."

"Why don't you wait until tomorrow morning when it's clear before going after it?"

"If sir insists on going, then Chen is willing to accompany."

The crowd expressed their opinions one after another, with most of them trying to persuade Song You not to go.

Among them, there was concern, but perhaps also a desire to keep Song You from leaving too easily. Even if it was the latter, it was human nature. However, there were too many words, and Song You couldn't decide how to respond for a moment. He stared at the fire for a few seconds, then decided not to reply to each one individually. He only said to the escort named Chen:

"The leader should stay here."

This also indicated his attitude.

Chen, the escort, was a meticulous person with both reputation and courage. Such a person, regardless of his skills, deserved some respect.

However, after this statement, Song You didn't want to say anything more.

Not long after, the drizzle stopped.

Song You stood up directly, picked up a piece of firewood from the fire, and walked alone into the thick fog, under the watchful eyes of the merchants and escorts.

Now that it was night, the air was lonely and cold. The fog seemed impenetrable, and even the wild grass seemed to be on alert. The only figure moving forward without fear was Song You.

The crowd was both admiring and worried, but there was nothing else they could do but huddle by the fire, anxiously watching the thick fog, unsure whether they hoped for the return of the young Daoist or feared the appearance of another fog ghost.

Before long, a burst of firelight erupted from the fog.

Immediately after, there were cries of ghosts, sounding mournful and fierce, making people's scalps tingle.

"Hiss!"

Goosebumps rose on the arms of the merchants, and sweat beaded on their skin. Their concern for the young Daoist increased.

But no one dared to investigate.

Even Chen, the escort, who was brave enough to have such courage, didn't dare to venture into the fog.

Soon, the sound abruptly stopped.

After some time passed, there was movement nearby.

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Everyone stretched their necks, staring intently at the fog, their hearts pounding.

They saw the thick fog, like the morning mist in the mountains on a winter day, suddenly stirred by a gust of wind. The fog swirled and flowed, illuminated by the firelight, making it seem like tiny particles were visible in the hazy scene. In this dreamlike setting, a figure emerged from the fog, walking steadily.

The person was young and handsome, dressed in simple Daoist robes, with a calm expression as if nothing had happened.

He walked into the pavilion and sat back down by the fire, then said, "The night is still long. Rest early, everyone."

The crowd exchanged glances, led by Mr. Li, they all stood up and bowed respectfully.

The flames crackled, and the young Daoist closed his eyes.

The merchants couldn't sleep for a while, looking at each other, recalling the scene from earlier— the young Daoist returning from the fog, his figure gradually becoming clear, as if carrying hope. Perhaps some of them would never forget this scene for the rest of their lives.

...

The night seemed neither long nor short.

The mountain wind carried the fog, chilling to the bone. They woke up several times throughout the night, unable to sleep well. When dawn broke, Song You was already awake, and most of the other merchants had also spent a restless night.

The morning dew was heavy, and the air was damp, smelling of earth and vegetation, just like dusk, perfect for cultivation.

Although Song You was awake, he continued to meditate with his eyes closed.

He could hear the sounds around him.

The dew bent the wild grass, and droplets slid down along the curve, dripping onto the flagstones and shattering. Squirrels were active on the ancient cypresses, and birds were chirping in the woods.

A quiet conversation between Chen, the escort, and Mr. Li, the merchant, caught his attention. Chen was quietly explaining that his junior brother was a skilled escort, brave and skilled in combat. It was just his first encounter with ghosts, which made him nervous and affected his performance. He hoped Mr. Li wouldn't mind.

Then he overheard Mr. Li whispering to the other merchants, discussing how much money they should pool together to thank Song You, but they were also hesitant about the amount, wanting to be generous but also calculating.

In this world, everything was cultivation, including human nature.

When Song You opened his eyes again, the merchants had rekindled the fire and boiled water in a small pot, respectfully bringing him a bowl.

Song You accepted without refusal.

He had understood long ago, during his time at the Daoist temple, that accepting others' goodwill was a manifestation of magnanimity, not to mention gratitude.

"Phew..."

The morning air was cold, and a breath blown into the bowl created a layer of white mist along the rim. The dry bread needed to be soaked in water, and having a bowl of hot water after spending the night in the mountains was comforting.

Taking a sip, warmth spread from his throat to his chest.

Merchants were talkative, and during breakfast, they exchanged a few words. Song You learned more about them. He already knew they were tea merchants from Yizhou, an important node in the tea-horse trade. Now, he learned from them that in recent years, although the guidance price for tea leaves set by the court hadn't changed, the actual prices in different regions had been decreasing year by year. Many tea merchants were forced to either transport their tea to Yidu to sell to the Tea-Horse Office or take risks by selling to traders specialized in collecting tea for Western countries.

As for what kind of merchants they were, they didn't say, and Song You didn't ask.

The merchants also wanted to invite Song You to travel with them to Yidu, probably to repay him for saving their lives. But Song You had always traveled according to his own wishes. If he were to travel with them, it would not only be a burden to them but also to himself. So he directly refused and advised them to be careful on their journey and not to spend another night in the wilderness.

After drinking the water and eating the dry bread, it was time to part.

Interestingly, after breakfast, Chen, the escort, went into the woods with his junior brother and gathered some less damp firewood, chopping it into pieces and placing it in a corner of the pavilion. This replenished the wood that had been burned the previous night and would dry out in a couple of days.

Song You watched from the side, lost in thought.

Then Mr. Li took out a small money pouch and respectfully handed it to Song

You as a token of gratitude.

It was more about propriety than respect.

In this world, encountering demons and ghosts was not uncommon, and there were many people who hunted and exorcised them. Some temples also offered such services, so paying for them was quite normal.

Accepting minor details with equanimity.

When Song You accepted the money pouch and put it away, Mr. Li and the others breathed a sigh of relief.

"We Wu Mountain Tea Merchants have a shop in Yidu, in the West City. Just ask around for the Wu Mountain Tea Shop. When sir arrives in Yidu, if there's anything you need, whether it's finding a guide or doing something else, please feel free to come to us."

"Take care."

"Goodbye."

The merchants packed up their goods and hurried away.

They had traveled less yesterday, so they needed to make up for it today.

Once again, only Song You remained in the pavilion.

By this time, the sun had come out, casting a blue hue across the sky. The light pierced through the clouds, seemingly tangible, at first without warmth on the face, but soon became warm and comforting.

It seemed like another good day.

"Yidu..."

Song You looked up at the sky, murmuring softly, and then shouldered his bag, continuing on his journey.

With no worries about the thousand-mile journey, there was a breeze of arrival.

The ancient cypresses along the road were washed by the rain, with drops hanging from their branches, crystal clear and translucent. The morning mist still lingered, sometimes gathering in the valleys, obscuring the ancient road from view. Yet, under the morning light, it gradually dissipated.

This stretch of road would no longer be troubled by fog ghosts.