A lonely shed stood forlorn beside the road leading to Datong County.
The road, long neglected, was pitted and gullied, the deep tracks left by the passing of cartwheels crisscrossed its surface.
In the midst of the day, no travelers were to be seen on the road, and Old Zhang, standing in front of the shed, looked around with an expression of disappointment creasing his weathered face.
It looked like there would be no business today.
He gently patted the head of his grandson, who was dozing off beside him, and sighed softly.
At that moment, a gust of wind blew into the shed.
The wind carried with it the clear sound of bells.
Old Zhang's spirits immediately lifted, and he eagerly peered in the direction of the sound.
He saw in the distance a large green donkey approaching, with a young Daoist sitting on its back.
The donkey's hooves clip-clopped rhythmically, and it swiftly arrived in front of the shed.
