A Carefree Quest for the Dao

On the north bank of the Huai River, mist billowed like water boiling in a pot, and dampness crept up through the cracks between the bluestone slabs. The Li woman crouched by the river, holding a wooden pestle as she pounded millet, one stroke at a time. Suddenly, a golden plum drifted lazily downstream. Parched and hungry, the Li woman reached out, grabbed it, and swallowed it whole. The fruit melted as soon as it entered her mouth. Then a strange noise suddenly came from her dantian, like a frog croaking inside her, so loud that her ribs trembled. "What's going on?" she muttered, pressing a hand to her stomach. Just then, a voice as resonant as a great bell rang inside her head: "I am a remnant spirit of primordial chaos. I have borrowed Peng Zu's lineage to take the form of qi. After eighty-one years, I shall awaken and enlighten the world." The Li woman's hand shook, and her wooden pestle went plop into the middle of the river. In the spray, a partly unrolled jade slip appeared from nowhere. Its tadpole-like script was crooked, but the words "The Way that can be spoken is not the eternal Way" could still be made out. At that moment, her stomach churned, the reeds on the bank turned frosty one instant and bloomed with pink lotuses the next, and a black bird flapped in terror and crashed into the mist.

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