Zhou Chun and his disciple Yan'er entered the Golden Flavor Restaurant to eat, when something hanging behind the counter caught their eyes. Taking a closer look, they realized it was exactly the red lacquered gourd the Drunken Taoist had used to hold wine at the foot of Mount Emei. They glanced around, but there was no sign of the Taoist.
At first, they thought it was a coincidence—there were many identical things in the world—so they sat down, ordered wine and food, and ate casually. But the more Zhou Chun thought about it, the stranger it felt. He called the waiter over and asked, “That red gourd at your counter is perfect for holding wine. Where did you buy it?”
The waiter replied, wiping a table, “If you're asking about this gourd, it's not ours. Five days ago, a poor Taoist priest came here, dressed in tattered clothes, carrying this gourd on his back. Even though he looked so poor, he had an enormous capacity for wine. Every day he came to our restaurant and drank at least ten jin (approx. 5 kg) of wine—he wouldn't stop until he was drunk, and when he sobered up, he'd drink again. At first, seeing how poor he was, we suspected he was trying to drink for free, planning to fight if we asked for money. But later, we saw that he never owed a single coin after eating and drinking. Before leaving, he'd take a big gourd full of wine with him. Every day, he bought at least fifty to sixty jin (approx. 25–30 kg) of our best Daqu wine—he became one of our best customers.”
“When he got drunk, he'd sleep. He rarely spoke except to ask for more wine, and he was very polite when drinking. That's why we respected him. This morning, he finished his wine here, then took another big gourd full as usual. He left, but came back two or three hours later, holding a layman's cotton robe. He drank for nearly another hour. When he was leaving this time, he said he'd forgotten to bring money and wanted to leave this gourd as collateral. He also said someone would come to pay his bill within two hours. We didn't dare to refuse him—he'd already bought two to three hundred jin (approx. 100–150 kg) of wine from us in these five days, more than we usually sell in a month. We offered to let him put it on credit instead of taking his gourd, but he insisted. He said he'd never accepted anything for free in his life. He'd forgotten his money temporarily, and when someone brought it later, the gourd would be a sign. We couldn't argue with him, so we had to take it for now. Even if you like this gourd, sir, we can't sell it for him, and we don't know where to buy one like it.”
As Zhou Chun listened, he thought to himself. He said to the waiter, “How much does the Taoist priest owe you? I'll pay his bill along with ours later, okay?” The waiter suspected Zhou Chun wanted the gourd and was using the bill as an excuse. He said, “That Taoist is a regular customer—he won't owe us money. You don't need to trouble yourself, sir.” Yan'er was about to speak, but Zhou Chun quickly winked at him to stop. Understanding the waiter's misunderstanding, Zhou Chun said, “Don't be suspicious. That Taoist is actually our friend—I should pay his bill for him. Keep the gourd here, and don't give it to anyone unless you see him in person.”
Only then did the waiter realize he'd misjudged. He'd been worried the poor Taoist might not pay, but he'd been too embarrassed to refuse credit since the Taoist had bought so much wine. He'd also been afraid someone might take the gourd and the Taoist would accuse them of stealing. So when Zhou Chun offered to pay, he was happy to agree. He added their bill to the Taoist's—total two taels and fifteen cents of silver.
Zhou Chun paid the bill, gave the waiter a tip, then headed to Yan'er's house. Yan'er was about to ask about the Drunken Taoist's background, but Zhou Chun told him not to talk too much and urged him to walk faster. Soon, they reached Yan'er's doorstep. Yan'er's mother, Old Mrs. Zhao, was standing at the door, staring in the direction they'd come from. When Yan'er saw his mother, he left Zhou Chun and threw himself into her arms. Zhou Chun watched, nodding secretly in approval.
Old Mrs. Zhao held Yan'er, then greeted Zhou Chun to come inside. Their house was three adobe rooms, but it was clean and tidy. There was a weaving loom in the main hall, with an unfinished bolt of cloth on it. On the side, there was a lake crepe cotton robe and a large package that looked like it contained silver. Yan'er said, “Master, look! Isn't that the cotton robe you gave to that poor Taoist? How did it end up at my house?”
Old Mrs. Zhao replied, “A Taoist priest came here just now. He said Warrior Zhou and Yan'er were delayed on the road and found it cumbersome to carry so much silver, so he offered to bring it here first. I know Warrior Zhou is a master of martial arts, and even Yan'er has some strength—how could they find such a small thing cumbersome? I refused to take it. Then the Taoist showed me this cotton robe as proof. I made this robe with my own hands—I can still recognize the stitches. I reluctantly took it, but I was still suspicious. The Taoist said you'd be here soon, so I waited at the door. Sure enough, you came not long after.”
After hearing Old Mrs. Zhao's words, Zhou Chun opened the silver package—it contained about three hundred taels. There was also a note inside, with eight characters written in a bold, vigorous hand: “A gift from the Drunken Taoist to the virtuous mother and filial son.” Zhou Chun said to Yan'er, “You see? I told you there are many extraordinary people in the world. Our speed is not slow, but this Taoist traveled over two hundred li (approx. 100 km) back and forth in such a short time, as if it were child's play. His martial arts are more than ten times better than ours. We're lucky we treated him well at the foot of Mount Emei.”
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Old Mrs. Zhao hurried to ask what had happened. Zhou Chun told her everything—from meeting the Drunken Taoist at the foot of Mount Emei to paying his wine bill at the restaurant. He also explained his plan to take Yan'er with him. He urged Old Mrs. Zhao to keep the silver; there would be no trouble. Old Mrs. Zhao said, “Yan'er is my only child, but if it weren't for you, my son and I would have starved to death long ago. Besides, even though he's a bit clever, he'd be wasted without a good master. You're talented in both literary and martial arts—taking him out to gain experience is the best thing you could do for him.” Zhou Chun thanked Old Mrs. Zhao.
That evening, Zhou Chun went to see Ma Xiang again and instructed him on many things. The next morning, they set off for Chengdu. Zhou Chun made a point of going to the restaurant first to find the Drunken Taoist, hoping to make friends with this extraordinary hermit. But neither the Taoist nor the gourd was there. He found the waiter from the previous day and asked about the Drunken Taoist's whereabouts. The waiter replied, “When the Taoist came back yesterday, he seemed to be in a hurry. He walked in, grabbed his precious gourd, and left. We told him you'd paid his bill, and he said he already knew. He told us to tell you: 'We'll meet in Chengdu.' Then he left. By the time I ran out after him, he was already gone.”
Zhou Chun knew the Drunken Taoist had left and there was no way to find him. He felt disappointed, but had no choice but to set off for Chengdu with Yan'er. They traveled for several days until they reached a place called Three Forks. Going southwest led to the main road to Chengdu. There was also a small path to the west that led to Chengdu, two hundred li (approx. 100 km) shorter, but it passed through many mountains and was not easy to travel.
Zhou Chun had heard there were many strange scenes in those mountains. He was eager to reach Chengdu, and also wanted to enjoy the mountain scenery, so he and Yan'er took the small path. After walking for half a day, they entered the mountain trails. The mountain was called Yunling Mountain, with towering ancient trees, jagged rocks, and many stunning views. The master and disciple felt a bit thirsty and wanted to find some spring water to drink. Fortunately, there was a small stream by the road, its water clear enough to see the fish swimming in it. They went down to the stream, took out the wooden ladle they'd brought, and drank some water casually.
The sun was setting by then, and the master and disciple were worried about missing a place to stay for the night. They quickened their pace and continued forward. As they walked, they suddenly heard the cry of a crane. Zhou Chun said, “A few days ago, at the foot of Mount Emei, I heard the crane cry twice. This is the third time today.” He looked up at the sky—it was clear with no clouds, and there was no sign of the crane.
Yan'er suddenly shouted, “Master, it's here!” Zhou Chun looked quickly and saw a huge crane standing on a large rock by the road. Its head was bright red, its body pure white with no mixed feathers, its golden eyes and iron beak sharp, and its two claws like bronze hooks. It was eight or nine chi (approx. 2.6–3.0 meters) tall, preening its feathers. Zhou Chun said, “I've rarely seen such a large crane.”
As he spoke, a green snake suddenly darted out from beside the rock—it was seven or eight chi (approx. 2.3–2.6 meters) long. When the crane saw the snake, it quickly pecked at it. But the snake was extremely fast; by the time the crane's beak reached it, it had already slipped into a stone cave and disappeared. Where the iron beak struck, pieces of rock splashed and sparks flew. The crane suddenly grew angry, using both its feet and beak—scratching and pecking until it shattered a rock six or seven chi (approx. 2.0–2.3 meters) in diameter.
The snake, finding its hiding place no longer safe, was about to flee. Just as it stuck its head out, the crane caught it with one peck. The snake coiled its seven or eight chi body tightly around the crane's feet. The crane remained calm, first pecking off the snake's head, then using its long beak to gently untangle the snake's body from its feet, tearing it into seventy or eighty pieces. In a few pecks, it had eaten the entire snake. It shook its feathers, let out a long cry, and flew into the sky—disappearing into the clouds in the blink of an eye.
By then, dusk had fallen, and mist filled the air. Zhou Chun urged Yan'er to hurry. They walked more than three li (approx. 1.5 km), and the sky grew dark. Fortunately, there was a house by the road. They went up to knock on the door, hoping to stay for the night. After knocking for a long time, someone inside finally replied, “Where are you from?” Zhou Chun explained their purpose.
The man said, “I'm dying. This place is extremely dangerous. If you want to stay for the night, go five li (approx. 2.5 km) southwest. There's a thatched nunnery there, where Master White Cloud lives. You can ask her to let you stay for the night. If she agrees, you might escape danger.” With that, his voice fell silent. They knocked again, but there was no answer.
Zhou Chun was curious by nature. He told Yan'er, “Wait outside. Don't move until I come out.” He leaped over the wall and entered the courtyard. The bright moon had risen, illuminating the courtyard clearly. Zhou Chun looked carefully and saw a man lying on a rattan bed in the courtyard. When the man saw Zhou Chun, he said, “Why aren't you listening? Leave quickly—don't come near me. It will be very bad for you.”
Zhou Chun said, “All people under heaven are friends. What troubles you? What danger is here? Why not tell me? Maybe I can help you. Why wait for death?” The man said, “Leave quickly! I've been poisoned by a demon. If you get within three chi (approx. 1 meter) of me, you'll be infected. I've been struggling here for three days, and now I'm hungry. If you have any dry food, please give me some. The demon will come soon—if it finds me, I'll die, and you will too. If you hurry to Master White Cloud, maybe she can help me. When you see her, just tell her this.”
By this time, the man was weak and on the verge of death. Zhou Chun noticed seven bright red moles on his arm. He thought this was not a safe place, so he threw some dry food to the man, then leaped over the wall and went out. He called for Yan'er—but there was no sign of him.
