The Arrogant Great Song

The rain kept pouring, from yesterday afternoon until the Chen hour today, without a single pause. I crouched behind a massive boulder on the northern slope of Wuliang Mountain, listening to the rain pound the rock with a “thump, thump,” like someone hammering at it. Mud had dried into a hard crust on my trouser legs, and flakes crumbled off whenever I moved. My boots were full of water, squelching with every step, like I was walking around with a pair of frogs from a muddy pond stuffed inside them.

Rain in Dali always had a ferocious streak, especially on Wuliang Mountain. With moisture from Jian Lake in the air, it could turn into an endless barrage. Yesterday, when I stopped at a teahouse at the foot of the mountain, the owner shook his head around the stem of his pipe and said, “Young master, the Dragon King’s in a rage. The rain will last five days at least, seven at most. If you’re going to Jian Lake, you’d best wait until the skies clear.” I had half a bag of roasted peanuts tucked away, and my head was full of a storyteller’s tale: “Jian Lake reflects a jade wall, and divine weapons lie beneath.” I thought he was just afraid I’d leave without paying, so I rolled my eyes and charged up the mountain. Now that I thought about it, the old man hadn’t said a single word that wasn’t true.

The mud on the mountain path had turned to thin porridge, and I stumbled along, nearly tumbling into the ravine several times. There wasn’t a single birdcall around, only the “rustle, rustle” of rain hitting bamboo leaves and the distant roar of the waves churning in Jian Lake. The lake, once a clear blue-green, now looked as if it had been dyed with ink. Its yellow-brown waves crashed against the rocks along the shore, spraying water that soaked my robes. I felt the Book of Songs inside my robe. It had been soaked through and gone limp, its writing blurred. An inexplicable anger flared inside me. I, Duan Yu, was at least the heir of Dali’s Prince of Zhennan. Even if I had no love for practicing the “One Yang Finger,” I shouldn’t have been left this miserable by a lousy rainstorm!