Chapter Eighty-One: The Tale of the Peach Blossom Spring

Letting out a deep sigh, Yu Daoyi shifted his gaze once more to the seemingly tipsy youth perched among the blossoms of the peach tree and asked, “Who are you?”

“Who am I? I should be asking who you are! Wait, don’t tell me you really are from outside the village?” The peach blossom youth’s face was tinged with a hint of suspicion.

“Village? Outside the village? What village is this?” Yu Daoyi was utterly baffled. It was clearly just a mountain cave—how had it turned into a matter of inside and outside a village?

“Peach Blossom Village, of course! If you don’t even know that, you really must be from outside!” The slightly inebriated youth now seemed rather excited, leaping straight down from the tree.

“Peach Blossom Village?” A strange sense of familiarity washed over Yu Daoyi, but after pondering it for a moment with no result, he dismissed it as the effect of such a common name.

“Hey, outsider, what’s your name?” The youth dusted peach petals from his clothes and questioned him.

“Song Cheng!” Out in the world, it was best to use an alias. When it came to picking a name, Song Cheng was always his go-to.

“Song Cheng? What an awful name,” the youth said bluntly.

“Mm, I think so too,” Yu Daoyi agreed wholeheartedly.

“You’re something else. I insult your name and you take it so well,” the youth remarked, tilting his head.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. By the way, I must have accidentally wandered into your village, right? Do you know how I might leave?” Yu Daoyi nodded shamelessly and pressed on.

Everything about this—the disappearance of Song Qiuling and the others, that blinding light—was far too strange and unsettling. He had to find out what was going on.

“Leave? Why would you want to leave?” The youth looked at him, bewildered.

“What do you mean?” Yu Daoyi frowned.

“What do I mean? This place is wonderful. We have everything we need. The villagers are all kind, generous, and welcoming. We live carefree lives here. But you—why do you even have the idea of leaving?” Talking about the village, the youth grew even more animated, words tumbling out in a torrent.

“I don’t belong here. I have friends I need to find. Do you understand?” Yu Daoyi, setting his doubts aside for now, tried to reason with the youth patiently.

“Well, you’re a strange one,” the youth said, frowning in disappointment but helpless all the same. “No one in our village ever wants to leave. Everyone lives peacefully here, so I have no idea how to get out. If you insist, I can only take you to see Grandpa Village Chief.”

“The village chief? He knows how to leave?”

“How should I know? But Grandpa Village Chief knows more than anyone else here. If he doesn’t know, I wouldn’t know who to ask.” The youth shrugged.

Yu Daoyi followed the youth along a crystal-clear stream. As they passed other villagers, the youth greeted each person with warmth, and everyone responded with smiles. Even Yu Daoyi received the same friendly welcome; the village was steeped in a spirit of simplicity and harmony.

Yet the farther they walked, the more unsettled Yu Daoyi became. Since his mind had cleared earlier, his strange spiritual sense—or consciousness—felt even purer. He had no words to describe it.

Amid this scene of tranquil joy, a peculiar sense of familiarity stirred within him. Remembering the narrowing passage and the faint glimmer of light he’d followed, Yu Daoyi suddenly muttered in surprise, “Follow the river to its end and you’ll find a mountain. In the mountain is a small opening, through which a faint light shines.”

He looked off into the distance. With a cultivator’s keen eyesight, it was easy to spot neat rows of houses, fertile fields, lovely ponds, mulberry trees, and bamboo groves. Paths crisscrossed the fields, chickens and dogs wandered freely. Villagers worked the land, men and women all clad in the same peach-colored garb as the youth beside him. The elders and children looked content and carefree, at peace and at home.

“After walking a few dozen paces, the world suddenly opened up before me: broad, flat land, orderly houses, fine fields, beautiful ponds, mulberry and bamboo. Paths winding everywhere, sounds of chickens and dogs. People coming and going about their work, men and women dressed as outsiders do. The old and the young, all joyful and at ease.”

Yu Daoyi gave a wry smile—what a coincidence! If this truly was a secluded paradise, then he must be the fisherman who stumbled into it. But was this village truly cut off from the world? And did the village chief know the way out?

He recalled studying “The Peach Blossom Spring” in his previous life, once fantasizing about finding such an earthly paradise. But then he’d read an article online, one that claimed to expose the truth behind the story.

The gist was: how could a fisherman, so familiar with the routes, have gotten lost so easily? And why, after leaving, was he never able to find his way back?

The article argued that the Peach Blossom Spring was a fabrication from the start. The word “qian” in the ancient text could mean a path to a tomb. And the flourishing of mulberry, bamboo, and peach trees at the same time was unnatural—their growing seasons don’t coincide.

Even when the fisherman tried to mark his path, he never found the place again, and he died soon after—a point of much debate.

Out of such controversies, another theory emerged: the fisherman had stumbled into a land of the dead, which explained the use of “qian” as a path to the grave, and why the three plants could thrive together.

Ancient tombs were often built by water and against mountains, shaded by mulberry and bamboo, with peach trees believed to ward off evil—details lending credibility to this version. The villagers, perhaps, had died long ago, buried in the tomb, their souls continuing their habitual labors, unaware they were dead.

Even Liu Ziji’s later death was explained—he had found the Peach Blossom Spring and stayed there forever among the departed.

Yu Daoyi couldn’t remember all the details, but the village before him did bear some resemblance to that legendary peach blossom land. Thankfully, the text had described the entrance as narrow in front and wide at the back, just like ancient tomb designs meant to thwart grave robbers.

Yet when he entered, the passage had been wide in front and narrow at the back—a key difference. At least, he hadn’t come through a tomb.

With that thought, Yu Daoyi felt somewhat relieved. Since he was here, he might as well make the best of it. No matter what, this village existed within Baili Mo’s secret realm—there must be something extraordinary about it.

“By the way, what’s your name?” Yu Daoyi suddenly asked. He was nearly at his destination and still didn’t know.

“Oh? Did I forget to say? My name’s Xiao Qian. The villagers gave it to me,” the youth replied proudly.

Qian, or was it Qian with a different character? Yu Daoyi frowned, his suspicions deepening.

Within the village, under a great peach tree, several elders sat on a bench, fanning themselves and chatting in the shade.

“Hey, Grandpa Village Chief!” Xiao Qian called to a white-haired, youthful-looking elder, running over and flinging himself into the old man’s arms.

“Xiao Qian, aren’t you a bit old to be clinging to the village chief?” the elders teased.

“Pssh, who’s clinging? I have important business with Grandpa Village Chief this time!” Xiao Qian stuck out his tongue.

“Heh, Xiao Qian, you’re always running about, never helping your sister, always pestering this old man for wine. What business could you possibly have?” the village chief chuckled.

“Forgive me for the trouble, elders,” Yu Daoyi said, bowing respectfully. Whether or not he could leave the village depended on this kindly, wrinkled old man.

“You’re a stranger to these parts, aren’t you?” the village chief said with a smile.

“Grandpa Village Chief, this is the important business—I think he’s from outside the village,” Xiao Qian interjected, pointing at Yu Daoyi.

“From outside?” The other elders looked at Yu Daoyi with astonishment, as if he were some rare creature.

“Elders, I entered this village by accident due to unusual circumstances. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Please, if you know the way out, tell me,” Yu Daoyi said humbly.

Sometimes you had to bow your head under someone else’s roof—if he weren’t in a hurry, he’d have made a scene until they begged him to leave!