Years passed swiftly, six in the blink of an eye.

The lazy summer sun bathed the lush land, dewdrops sparkling on leaves and grass. The morning mist cleared, revealing a fresh, natural scene. By a small lake surrounded by mountains, an old man cast his line, enjoying a peaceful day. The clear lake water sparkled like an emerald in the sun. The gentle breeze rippled the surface, and birds chirped, insects buzzed, flowers bloomed, and butterflies danced.

Over a steaming cup of tea, the old man repeatedly lifted his fishing rod, never empty-handed. Nearby, a young boy, six or seven years old, lay hidden in the bushes, watching intently. His innocent eyes seemed filled with desire. He found beauty in the old man's graceful figure, white beard, and silver fishing line against the backdrop of the lake.

As the sun rose, warmth spread. The old man finished fishing, his rod shortened from yards to feet. The boy, amazed, watched him walk away. He ran to the fishing spot, searching everywhere for a stray fish. A delicious fish soup awaited him for lunch, but he found nothing. Odd, he hadn't seen the old man with a fish basket. The boy stood, puzzled, until someone called him, bringing him back to reality.

"Liang, Liang! What're you spacing out for? Your mom's calling you for dinner!" A kid around his age shouted as he ran along the small path beside the lake.

"Oh, yeah, got it," Liang replied.

"Well, hurry up! You'll get scolded if you're late."

"Coming, coming!"

It was nearly noon. After climbing over two hills and taking a few turns, a small village appeared in front of them. Dozens of households were scattered gracefully halfway up the mountain. The cooking smoke was rising, and the unique aroma of rice could be smelled from far away. The two kids ran happily back to their homes.

"Liang! Stop right there!" Liang was caught red-handed as he sneaked into the house.

"What? Oh, Mom, I'll help you carry the firewood, heh heh~!"

"Trying to sneak away?" Liang felt a tight grip on his neck as he was dragged into the kitchen like a bag.

"Now, tell me, what did you learn in the morning?" Liang's mother asked kindly.

"Oh, I learned about Laozi's Tao!"

"What?!"

Liang could sense the anger brewing in his mother's voice. Shielding his head, he quickly said, "It's what the teacher said! Tao Te is about the Way above and Virtue below. Now we're learning the upper part of the 'Tao Te'. Isn't it about the Way?"

Two loud smacks resounded, and Liang felt stars dancing before his eyes. Then, he was jolted awake by a thunderous roar that seemed to come from the heavens: "You little brat! I sent you to study with the teacher, and not only did you not study properly, but you also ran away often! Tell me, what did you do in the morning? And learning about your Laozi's Tao, I'll give you my own Tao!"

The woman still seemed angry, and with a kick, she sent Liang flying into the house. "After eating, chop the firewood in the backyard! You won't get dinner until it's done!"

"Phew~~" Liang exhaled a sigh of relief, narrowly escaping the wrath. But when he finished eating and saw the pile of firewood in the backyard, looking like a small mountain, he felt like he could see stars twinkling at him again.

After a satisfying meal, Liang walked to the backyard. His home sat on the edge of the village, surrounded by a wall of stones that followed the contours of the hill. The yard wasn't large, but it held a natural well in the northwest corner. The water was clear and slightly sweet. Strangely, the well had been dry until Liang's birth, when it suddenly filled with water. Over time, it grew deeper and its water remained pure. So, when villagers had guests, they often came here to fetch water for tea.

In the southwest corner, neatly stacked logs awaited. Freshly cut trees lay nearby, their trunks sliced into manageable lengths and piled high. Liang drew a small axe from the pile and, with practiced hands, chopped the logs into short, even pieces. Left hand on the wood, right hand swinging the axe, he moved with the skill of a veteran, not a child of six or seven. The crisp sounds of splitting wood filled the air, creating a rhythmic pattern. Soon, a pile of firewood stood behind him.

The moon rose, casting a silver glow over the yard. Only the wind and insects made noise, along with the cracking of wood. A thin layer of sweat formed on Liang's forehead. Glancing at his mother's silhouette sewing by candlelight, he sighed—tired, but knowing that soon he'd be done. A year ago, it took him half the night to chop this much wood. Now, he finished in three hours with precision. Even his mother was satisfied.

As usual, Liang sat on the well's edge to sharpen his axe. He cherished this tool, feeling a deep connection to it. Each time he sat there, a warmth spread through him, bringing comfort.

The summer night breeze carried the scent of flowers and grass. A faint song seemed to float on the air. Liang sat, gradually feeling sleepy.

Suddenly, the singing became clearer. It was like a cloud drifting from the heavens. The sound grew louder, seeming to approach. It was ethereal, feminine. And it came from the well behind him!

Liang jerked upright, panic-stricken. He leaned over the well to peer inside... and suddenly, his neck was seized.

"You little rascal! What are you still doing here? Fall in and even your mother won't be able to save you!"

With a thud, Liang was thrown into the house. A bellow followed: "Sleep!"

Instantly, the world fell silent. The moon cast its watery light, and the deep blue sky was punctuated by wisps of cloud. Fireflies danced above the grass, their tireless performance a nightly ritual. The rustling of leaves, the chirping of insects, the singing of birds and croaking of frogs—all these sounds created a noisy yet harmonious symphony of summer night.

Slowly, the surroundings quieted. Shortly after Liang entered the house, the area around the well fell silent as well. And if anyone could see now, they would discern a faint, pale blue face slowly emerging from the well's depths.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

The sun rose, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, signaling the start of a new day.

As usual, Liang sneaked into his usual spot and spied the fisherman's silver line dancing with a red minnow. The fisherman smiled calmly, his beard twitching, while the fish seemed to leap with renewed energy. Suddenly, the minnow flipped and wriggled free, shaking off the hook, and vanished back into the depths.

Liang watched, fascinated, but a gust of wind sent a clump of grass into his eyes. Before he could brush it away, he felt himself lifted into the air.

"Oh, goodness!" Liang cried, panic rising. He flailed his arms and legs, but there was nothing to grasp in the empty sky. The wind whipped around him, and he shut his eyes tight, afraid to look down. It felt like he was floating on a cloud, spinning and twisting, the sound of the wind roaring in his ears.

Gradually, the spinning slowed, and Liang cautiously opened his eyes a slit. But the brightness blinded him, and he quickly shut them again. Curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked through his eyelids. The fisherman was swinging his rod, and at the end of the line was not a fish but Liang himself!

"Hey, old man! Put me down!" Liang shouted angrily.

The fisherman chuckled. "A feisty one, indeed." With a sweep of his rod, he sent Liang spinning again, making him dizzy and nauseous. But Liang was stubborn. "Stinky old man, put me down! My mother will get you!" he shouted.

The fisherman smiled again. "Alright, alright. Steady yourself now." Without warning, Liang felt himself falling, and he cried out as he plunged into the lake. His mouth open in a shout, he ended up swallowing a mouthful of lake water.

In the water, Liang struggled, not knowing how to swim. His stomach bloated, and his mind spun. Was he going to die? The thought filled his head.

Just then, a powerful force yanked him backward. The force and the resistance of the water sent a jolt through his body, and with a bang, everything went black. Liang lost consciousness as he was pulled to safety.

Amidst the hazy blur, Liang found himself in a darkened chamber, familiar yet strange. Faces emerged from the shadows—his father, mother, wife… Wait! How could he know them? How could he have a wife as a child? Oh, it must be a dream! Such a strange dream! He couldn't tell his mother; she'd scold him.

But dreams aside, Liang had to escape. Suddenly, he couldn't move, his limbs bound by invisible shackles. Silence surrounded him, panic gripping his heart. Had he encountered a ghost? His mother had warned him of such things in dreams! What now?

A young woman gracefully approached, her voice tender. "My husband is always so careless, leaving things behind." Liang, startled, stammered, "You're… talking to me?" She smiled, "Of course, my love. Our paths may diverge, but I hope we meet again. Take care." Her words were heartfelt. Liang felt like a man, responding sincerely, "We will meet again." She smiled, disappeared into the darkness. The others followed, silent.

Liang sat stunned. Those words—not his own, but spoken freely! Bizarre! Suddenly, he could move. Excited, he touched a smooth, cold object—an axe, shimmering with white light and flowing patterns. Overjoyed, he reached out. The axe blazed, blinding him. He cried out, covering his eyes, and fainted again.

In the hazy moment, Liang heard the whispers of wind, the rustling of grass, and the cheery chirps of birds. The pain in his eyes slowly ebbed away. He cautiously lifted his hands and opened his eyes to the blinding sun, finding the old fisherman smiling at him with a sickening grin. His eyes, they were just… odd.

The old fisherman gave Liang a meaningful look and beckoned with a wave. Liang knew what he wanted—to stand up and walk over. But how could he? The old man had tormented him, and the score wasn't settled! With a huff, Liang leaped to his feet and pointed at the old man. "You tricky old man! Don't think you can mess with me and get away with it. Fight me fair and square if you dare!"

"Fight? Heh, fighting is not for old bones like me. I might even get bullied by a little one like you," the old man replied slyly.

Liang's face flushed. What now? Suddenly, the old fisherman spoke, "You seem unhappy. Here's a deal: if you win this game, I'll teach you my fishing secrets, and you can fish me up into the sky! Deal?" His sickening smile returned.

Liang felt a pull, but the offer was too tempting. He nodded eagerly. The old man beamed, his white beard twitching.

With a sweep of his long pole, the old fisherman drew a small circle around himself. "Stand here, motionless. If you step into this circle, you win. Simple, isn't it?"

"An old game? Fine, I'll indulge you," Liang said, trying to sound mature.

The circle was small, but the pole was long. Liang leaped left, then smoothly shifted to the right. The old man watched, nodding. As Liang neared the circle, the old man swung his pole. The silver line wrapped around Liang, and he fell to the grass.

Instantly, Liang rose, moving faster. He whipped off his clothes and threw them at the old man, distracting him. Then, he spun and lunged for the circle. The old man smiled, blew on the clothes, and flicked his wrist. The line tightened around Liang again.

Liang's anger and frustration boiled over as he struggled mightily, his hands straining against the invisible bonds that held him. He tugged and pulled, determined to snap the offending threads, but to his surprise, the harder he struggled, the tighter the lines seemed to wrap around him. Soon, his efforts were no longer aimed at breaking free; they were merely to ease the suffocating constriction and the aching pain in his arms, as if the threads had sliced into his flesh.

Suddenly, a jolt of energy exploded in Liang's mind, and a strange heat erupted from his right elbow, racing up to his fingertips. Unable to resist, he thrust his hand forward.

Liang was unaware of what had happened, but the old fisherman had seen it all. As Liang's forearm glowed with a brilliant green light, his hand transformed into a sleek, green axe that sliced cleanly towards the fishing line. A subtle tremor preceded contact, and the old man quickly released the tension in the line. With a swing of his arm, Liang was launched skyward again, his attack unleashed only to impact the ground.

With a thunderous crash, Liang's fist punched a small crater into the earth. Shocked, he rolled over and gaped at his hand. The old fisherman regarded him with a knowing gaze, silent as both pondered the turn of events.

Remarkably, Liang remained calm, sitting with his chin propped on his hand. After a moment of deep thought, he spoke, "This isn't fair! You've obviously planned this all out. You've probably been playing this game since you were a kid and I can't possibly win. But games are meant to be fun, and I'll decide what we play next. How's that?" While angry, Liang was not foolish. After being caught three times, he realized there was more at play than met the eye. His agility had reached its limit, and it was time to change the rules if he hoped to prevail.

The old man chuckled, amused by Liang's determination. "Alright, little one, let's hear your idea." He was genuinely curious to see what tricks Liang had up his sleeve.

"We'll play a different game," Liang proposed, "and you won't be allowed to move. Only I will."

"And what kind of game is that?" The old man raised an eyebrow.

"I want to fish with you," Liang said. "In the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, I believe I can catch ten small fish. If I don't, I'll concede. What do you think?" In truth, Liang had been coveting the old man's fishing rod, eager to experience the thrill of reeling in a catch. He had never fished before but had watched others do it often enough to believe he had a grasp of the basics. If the old man could catch over twenty fish in the time it took for a stick of incense to burn, then surely Liang could catch half that and still win. The question was, would the old man let him have such an easy advantage?

The old fisherman's face hardened. "That's not fair," he said. "This lake is rich in fish. Even a novice would catch ten fish with their eyes closed. Your game is hardly a challenge." Liang nodded, acknowledging the point, and ventured, "Twenty fish, then?" "No," came the reply. "Forty!" Liang persisted. "Thirty?" The old man sighed. "Fine, I'll indulge you this once." He added with a twinkle in his eye, "Are you sure you want to use my rod? Are you really certain?"

Liang, who had been harboring a slim hope of victory, found himself plunged into despair as he grasped the old man's fishing rod. For there was no hook attached to the line!