The Little Daoist Ascends to Immortality

In a mountain ravine, a fisherman had just cast his net into the river when he spotted a Taoist standing on a distant hillside.

It was dusk. Afraid the man might be about to take his own life, the fisherman hurriedly called out, "Taoist priest, what are you doing? Come down!"

His voice was deep and plain, clearly well practiced from singing work songs. The Taoist turned his head and smiled with narrowed eyes.

His flushed face showed his drunkenness, and the gourd at his waist hung open.

His Taoist robe fluttered in the breeze, giving him an air of utter freedom. Had he finally given in?

Bathed in the rosy glow of sunset, he cried, "This humble Taoist is ascending!"

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.