Chapter 22: Paradise Beyond the World

During the Spring and Autumn period, the state of Chu occupied the mid and lower reaches of the Yangtze River. Thus, all the mountains along the river and near the sea were collectively known as the Chu Mountains. Yet the Chu Mountains mentioned by Du Ximing referred only to the several imposing peaks ahead, not the entire range.

“Are we supposed to search summit by summit?” Zhang Chi complained, unable to hide his frustration.

“That won’t be necessary,” Du Ximing replied. “There are many villages scattered throughout this region. We can inquire at one, and perhaps learn of any bandit activity.”

Zhang Chi found the suggestion reasonable, nodded, and ordered the troops to advance deeper into the Chu Mountains. The rugged mountain paths slowed their progress.

From afar, the mountains’ beauty remained hidden; only upon entering their midst did Zhang Chi see the grand, continuous ridges rising majestically. He couldn’t help but reflect—nature in ancient times far surpassed anything he had known before his journey. It was spring, and the mountains were lush and verdant.

Such scenes were rare. The breathtaking scenery filled Zhang Chi with delight as he rode his white horse, smiling into the breeze, savoring the tranquil pleasure.

“Brother Zhang, why are you smiling?” Dao Xuan, long accustomed to mountain landscapes, felt nothing special.

“This place is so beautiful. Perhaps one day I’ll retire here, living in the company of these green hills—a fine life indeed,” Zhang Chi replied.

“If you retreat to seclusion, wouldn’t that waste your talents?” Du Ximing, influenced by Miss Wang’s words, had grown to admire Zhang Chi. “The times are turbulent—now is when you can truly make a difference. Why speak of retreat?”

Zhang Chi had spoken carelessly and now, faced with Du Ximing’s question, didn’t know how to respond. Truthfully, aside from drinking, he wondered what skills he possessed. He shook his head in silence. Dao Xuan laughed, “Whether it’s living in seclusion or fighting wars, my master told me to follow you, Brother Zhang. Wherever you go, I go. Isn’t that right, Santong?”

“Seclusion is fine, but farming in the mountains means no meat to eat,” Santong interjected.

Dao Xuan nearly raised his whip at Santong, “You only ever think of food.”

Santong scratched his head and grinned, saying nothing. Dao Xuan had been training Santong in martial arts for some time, often scolding him for his slow learning. Santong was now used to the admonishments.

Their march lacked a precise aim; they wandered the mountain roads seeking villages. Oddly, they didn’t encounter a single settlement along the way. Laughing and talking, they journeyed thirty to forty li through the mountains.

Over those miles, the terrain changed dramatically. Here, the mountains were sheer, with jagged cliffs rising abruptly—quite unlike the rolling ridges they had seen before.

“How has the landscape changed so much after just half a day’s march?” Zhang Chi, unfamiliar with the terrain, asked Du Ximing.

Du Ximing scanned the surroundings, then said, “It seems we’ve walked into the heart of a valley. All around are steep cliffs; the path we took may be the only route into the valley.”

Just then, soldiers reported from the front: a sheer cliff blocked the way ahead; there was no path forward.

As they were still in the investigative stage and hadn’t encountered any bandits, Zhang Chi wasn’t concerned. He said to Du Ximing, “The troops are tired from marching most of the day. Since these cliffs shield us from the wind, let’s set up camp here. Send out small squads on horseback to search for villages and inquire about the bandits.”

Du Ximing agreed, spurred his horse, and rode ahead to arrange the encampment.

Watching Du Ximing’s efficient command, Zhang Chi thought how useful it was to have someone versed in military matters. If he were in sole command, even with only five thousand men, chaos would have ensued.

“Being a staff officer is easier than I thought,” Zhang Chi quipped, then said to the others, “With nothing pressing, why don’t we ride about and enjoy the scenery?”

Dao Xuan and Santong cheered, but Ding Yizhi said, “Since you’re in a poetic mood, go explore with Dao Xuan and Santong. I’ll stay and learn from General Du about military logistics. Just don’t wander too far.”

Clearly, his cousin was unusually diligent. Zhang Chi acknowledged, gently patted Snow’s neck, and rode with Dao Xuan and Santong deeper into the valley.

Santong marveled at Snow’s intelligence—how the horse responded to a mere pat without prompting. “Brother Zhang, your horse is truly remarkable. I’ve loved horses all my life, but never seen one like this. I wonder if it’s fast.”

Zhang Chi laughed, “A fine horse must be swift.”

“Not necessarily. Let’s race to find out.”

“How do we race?” Zhang Chi asked.

Santong pointed ahead to a towering cliff, its face sharp as if sliced by a blade. “Let’s see who gets to the base of that cliff first.”

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Dao Xuan, always eager for excitement, insisted on joining the race. Zhang Chi, having received Snow as a gift from Emei, had never let the horse run freely and was curious about its speed. He slyly patted Snow first, and the horse shot forward like an arrow. “All right, let’s race,” he called.

In that brief moment, Snow was already ten strides ahead.

Santong, seeing Zhang Chi’s trick, whipped his horse furiously, chasing after him toward the cliff.

They raced together, but Dao Xuan lagged behind. Though skilled in martial arts, Dao Xuan was not adept at riding, nor did he have a fine steed like Zhang Chi. Soon, the gap widened.

The cliff seemed close, but running toward it took considerable time. As the saying goes, “A mountain viewed from afar kills the horse approaching it.”

Zhang Chi reached the base of the cliff after some time. Snow, majestic, stood beneath the cliff, and as Zhang Chi turned, Santong was half a li behind.

Standing beneath the cliff, Zhang Chi felt an imposing pressure that hadn’t struck him when viewing it from a distance.

When Santong and Dao Xuan arrived, Santong, a horse lover, praised Snow, “Indeed a thousand-li steed—magnificent!”

Zhang Chi smiled, gently stroking Snow’s mane, his thoughts drifting to the ethereal Emei.

“Brother Zhang, look!” Dao Xuan suddenly exclaimed.

Zhang Chi followed Dao Xuan’s gaze, puzzled at first, but upon closer inspection, noticed a narrow crevice at the base of the cliff. Though not wide, it could accommodate two horses side by side. Dense foliage concealed the entrance, making it hard to spot.

Intrigued, Zhang Chi studied the crevice, then said to Santong and Dao Xuan, “This looks like a path—perhaps it leads to the other side of the cliff.”

“Look, there are footprints here,” Dao Xuan pointed out, his keen eyes noticing marks in the soil. “Someone must pass through occasionally.”

Zhang Chi dismounted to inspect, indeed finding one or two footprints near the entrance.

“Such small prints—must be a woman’s,” Zhang Chi observed.

Santong leaned in, “No one lives here. If it’s a woman, she must be a wild woman.”

All three laughed.

“Let’s go see,” Santong, bold as ever, said. “So hidden—this could be a bandit hideout.”

He mounted and led the way, clearing brush as he went.

“Watch for traps,” Dao Xuan cautioned, following close behind.

The path was flanked by steep cliffs, forming a natural crevice reminiscent of the famous “Thread of Heaven.” Zhang Chi, riding, looked up—the sky above was narrow, though not as thin as a thread.

The treacherous terrain made them slow their pace, winding through the gorge for over half a li before it widened. After another stretch, they emerged from the slender canyon, likely having crossed through the mountain to the cliff’s far side.

Zhang Chi looked up—the view opened dramatically.

Ahead lay a sizable village, surrounded by mountains, its scenery idyllic, fields interlaced, the sounds of chickens and dogs carried in the air. It was spring, and many villagers worked in the fields.

A true earthly paradise.

Could this be the original “Peach Blossom Spring” that Tao Yuanming described? Zhang Chi wondered, astonished.

Santong and Dao Xuan were equally dumbfounded. “This place is truly another world,” Santong exclaimed.

“Why would people build a village in such a hidden spot?” Dao Xuan asked, perplexed.

“Isn’t it obvious? This must be a bandit stronghold—hidden to avoid detection,” Santong replied simply. “Brother Zhang, since we found this place together, remember me when it comes to military rewards.”

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“How could this be a bandit stronghold?” Dao Xuan scoffed. “Use your head. These are clearly honest folk, not bandits.”

“Let’s go ask and find out.” Ahead lay fields, crisscrossed with paths. Zhang Chi, wary of trampling crops, dismounted as he spoke.

“Stop!”

No sooner had he taken a few steps than a sharp voice rang out, followed by the twang of a bowstring. Dao Xuan, quick as lightning, stepped beside Zhang Chi, intercepting the arrow. Zhang Chi, startled, saw Dao Xuan holding the shaft in his hand.

Without Dao Xuan, the arrow would surely have struck him. The thought made Zhang Chi shudder.

Looking back, Zhang Chi saw a young woman in the distance. Her hair was simply braided, a large bamboo basket strapped to her back, her clothes coarse and stained with dust and leaves. She stood with bow drawn, aiming at the three men.

“You have some skill, but that arrow was only a third of my strength. I wonder if you could catch one at full draw!” The girl, seeing Dao Xuan catch her arrow so effortlessly, was clearly displeased.

“We did nothing to provoke you—why shoot at us?” Dao Xuan demanded.

“My arrows are meant for beasts of the mountain—and for beasts worse than bandits like you!” she retorted, unafraid, her bow bent in a fierce posture.

“How are we worse than beasts?” Zhang Chi was baffled.

The girl countered, “Are those bandits in the valley your companions?”

“They’re soldiers,” Zhang Chi explained patiently. “Not bandits.”

“Soldiers are just bandits in uniform!”

Dao Xuan, frustrated by her obstinacy, glanced at Santong. “Santong, this time you were right—it is a wild woman.”

Zhang Chi expected the girl to explode in rage, but she remained unmoved, aiming steadily at them. Dao Xuan wasn’t worried, but feared that if he tackled her, she’d let loose the arrow—and Zhang Chi couldn’t dodge it. So, the three stood in a tense stalemate.

Their commotion had drawn the villagers from the fields, all armed with farming tools. An elder approached and asked, “Binger, who are these men?”

The girl, seeing the crowd gather, lowered her bow but didn’t return the arrow to her basket—still wary of Dao Xuan’s skill. She addressed the villagers, “I returned from gathering herbs and found many soldiers in the valley. They must be targeting our village. These three sneaked in—they must be scouts.”

Hearing of thousands of soldiers nearby, the villagers grew agitated. Zhang Chi couldn’t understand it—these seemed like ordinary folk, so why react so strongly to “soldiers”?

“Are there really thousands?” the elder asked anxiously.

“Not one more, not one less—exactly five thousand,” Zhang Chi replied calmly. Du Ximing had counted the troops himself.

“These three must be scouts sent by those bandits,” the girl insisted, now rallying the villagers. “Let’s kill them first. If we hold the gorge entrance, no matter how many bandits come, they can’t break through.”

The villagers, swayed by her words, voiced their approval. Only the elder remained silent, deep in thought.

Zhang Chi, unwilling to fight common folk, stepped forward. “Elder, we are indeed soldiers, not bandits. I am the commanding officer—we’re here to hunt bandits.”

“Nonsense! How can hunting bandits lead you to our village?” the girl retorted. “Soldiers and bandits are all the same—oppressing the people together. Don’t think I don’t know!”

Dao Xuan was incensed, glancing at Zhang Chi to ask if they should act first. With Dao Xuan’s skills, subduing the archer and the rest would be easy.

Zhang Chi signaled Dao Xuan to restrain himself. These were ordinary villagers—how could he bear to harm them? He patiently explained, “We truly came to hunt bandits. But in these mountains, we don’t know where they hide, so we’re seeking villagers to ask for information. We arrived here by chance.”

The elder scrutinized the three, then said, “I think this matter is best handled by the village chief.”

The girl, hearing Zhang Chi claim to be the commanding officer, thought that with him as a hostage, the soldiers would hesitate. “Fine, let’s go find Grandpa Shennong and let him decide.”