Two months later, in the spirited autumn air.

In the hours of the yellow dusk.

In the village at the foot of the mountain, wisps of cooking smoke wafted leisurely into the air, three little children ran and played about in the village, farmers cut their rice stalks in the fields, a big golden-haired dog laid lazily outside a house, smelling the fragrant cooking from the house behind him in the setting sun.

From afar, the sound of hooves neared, shattering the quiet peacefulness of the little village. The golden-haired dog sat up alarmed, hunching over and watching the dust cloud in distance vigilantly. 

A white horse and a black horse galloped over, halting at the village entrance, raising their heads to watch the distant mountain. 

The evening light was reflected in the mountain, shrouded by mists and clouds, painted crimson red all throughout, tall and rugged rocks loomed over the horizon, evoking the image of a celestial realm shrouded in red mist. 

At the foot of the mountain, a cowherd mounted on an ox wandered by, leisurely playing a flute, making this rural landscape seem all the more peaceful and harmonic.

"It is as they say, this place does look to possess traces of immortal intent." Astride the white horse was a fourteen- to fifteen-year-old youth, with red lips and white teeth, black hair rigorously tied with a silver ribbon in the manner of a warrior's bun, the ends draped like black satin, looking unbridled and dashing. His bright eyes watched the distant mountain, eyes filled with hope.

Atop the black horse was a youth dressed in silver lined robes, appearing to be older by four or five years. The two youths looked greatly similar, and it is easy to think that they are brothers. The only difference was that this young man's facial features were sharper and more angular, looked much colder and more serious.

Both horses were hung with large oilcloth bags, that each had a spear sticking out, gleaming with a deadly intent.

Hearing the younger youth's words, the older one gave no reply, only quietly staring at the distant cowherd, saying nothing for a long while.

"What's the matter?" The younger youth turned his head and asked.

"It is nothing." The older youth returned to his senses and smiled briefly. "I just feel that the tune is something I have never heard before, it is fresh and curious, and made me feel relaxed and content."

The younger man nodded in agreement, if this landscape was only five or six degrees of immortal intent, coupled with the cowherd's gentle and pleasant tune, it would be increased to seven or eight degrees.

He didn't think much about it and said with a smile, "There are so many good songs in the world, we can't possibly know about of them all. Could it be that my brother is suddenly in love with the sound of reed flutes?"

The older youth laughed, shaking his head, and the two of them slowly rode into the village.

There were rice fields on the roadside, and farmers sweating profusely while cutting rice stalks. As the older youth passed by, his eyes were fixed on the rice fields and his expression became more and more serious.

The younger youth looked left and looked right for a while. Some of the rice fields have already been cut, and some were still growing. At a first glance, they looked messy and unassuming. Seeing his brother's serious look, he couldn't help but wonder, "What are you looking at now..."

"Look closer."

The younger youth looked carefully, casting his gaze wide, surveying the rice field. It seemed to him that the parts of the rice fields were cut short, forming the shape of a Tai Chi yin and yang fish. Although it was not entirely accurate, the shape was really a Tai Chi!

Was he mistaken?

The younger youth suppressed his surprise and reined in his horse, raising his hand to call out, "That mister there..."

The farmer raised his head, seeing the obvious nobility and wealth of the two youths, smiling brilliantly. "Are you two going to the mountains to seek immortals? It's getting late, how about lodging at my house for one night? It's very cheap..."

"..." The image in their head of him as a great master was instantly shattered. The older youth's eye twitched, but he still introduced himself politely. "My name is Li Qinglin and this is my younger brother Qingjun. May I ask, mister, this rice field being cut in such a shape, what purpose does this serve?"

"Purpose?" The farmer scratched his head in confusion, mud getting stuck on his hair. "These are the numbers six and nine that little Qin taught me. What does he say they are called when they are put together? I don't understand either. While memorizing how to write these numbers, I ended up cutting them like this..."

So that's the case? The two brothers looked at each other and sighed in amusement. Although they have never heard of this six-nine number writing method, it was much easier to accept than the Tai Chi Yin Yang fish being created by some farmers in rice fields.

The farmer added, "My house is very comfortable, hot stove and hot milk, only for three wen..."

"No need." The two smiled and rode away.

"Hey, hey, hey..." The old farmer called out from behind.

"Don't go into the mountains so late. There is poisonous miasma in the mountains lately, and strange tigers as well. It's very dangerous!"

The younger youth Li Qingjun patted the spear in his bag, turned around and said with a smile. "Only when you face difficulties head on can you show your resolve. How about we help you get rid of this tiger?" 

The farmer looked at their spears, hesitated for a moment, and simply said, "Be careful then." Nearing the end of the village and reaching the foot of the mountain, the mist became denser, and the courtyards at the end of the village could no longer be seen clearly. A woodcutter walked by leisurely, carrying a load, as if he was walked out of the mist itself, casually singing a song.

"All men long to be immortals, yet to riches and rank each aspires. The great ones of old, where are they now? Their graves are a mass of briars."

"All men long to be immortals, yet silver and gold they prize. They grub for money all their lives, till death seals up their eyes."

The two brothers listened in a daze. The hooves of their horses slowed and finally stopped completely.

When they came to this place, they felt that everything here was different from anywhere else. Even the songs sung by a simple woodcutter were of such a high standard. No wonder many say there are immortals here in this mountain, it made sense.

"May I ask, mister..." Li Qinglin stopped the woodcutter. "Who composed this song?"

The woodcutter smiled and said, "This song by the Qin boy sure is interesting, right?"

A little interesting? This place was the Mountain of Immortals, where an endless stream of people came and went throughout the ages to look for immortals. Hearing such a song in a place like this is deeply meaningful.

"May I ask where Mister Qin lives?"

The woodcutter simply pointed to somewhere in the depths of the mists. "The courtyard at the end of the village is where herbs are being dried. You'll know it once you see it."

The courtyard was indeed easy to recognize. The small courtyard is densely covered with racks, with several layers of dustpans and covered with various medicinal herbs. The soothing scent of herbs lingered lightly in the air.

A young man sat in the middle of the yard, holding a large cudgel and pounding herbs with a stone mortar. He seemed relaxed and entirely unaware of the guests approaching.

The two of them looked from atop their horse for a while, their mood of meeting this mysterious master evaporating. Because this person was too young, only around sixteen or seventeen years old. He was no older than Li Qingjun, so he really couldn't be a master or hermit of any kind. Not only that, by their judgement of martial prowess, this young man was just a simple martial arts practitioner, and his cultivation was not even as good as their own.

However, the young man appeared interesting. He wore coarse clothes and straw shoes. He was a little thin, looked delicate and quiet, and appeared more to be like a scholar than a rural villager. While pounding medicine, he casually hummed a strange tune. The "thump thump" sound of pounding medicine drifted in the quiet tranquil dusk, bringing a satisfying rhythm, evoking feelings of relaxing in the countryside.

Judging by his appearance, his songs and his numbers are probably from reading some random books or from homeschooling? If he was homeschooled, the farmers and the woodcutter only referred to him as "little Qin" and "the Qin boy", so it was likely his family was no longer alive.

What's more interesting was that his medicine pestle was a mace, which looked even thicker than his thigh. Its ferocious spikes shone in the sunset, contrasting enormously with his delicate appearance.

Is this his martial arts weapon?

"Hey!" Li Qingjun stared at it for a long while and couldn't help but laugh. "Can a mace be used to pound medicine? Isn't the head too sharp?"

The young man stopped and turned to look at them, focusing on the spears in their bags, and answered the question. "It's very inconvenient to enter the mountain at night, so you two should be careful. There is a strange tiger at the top of the mountain. Don't get close. If you accidentally provoke it, run away immediately, it won't chase you."

Li Qinglin asked, "This little brother's surname is Qin?"

The young man answered offhandedly, "Qin Yi."

Li Qinglin once again introduced himself and continued, "Us brother came to this mountain to seek immortals. We listened to the woodcutter's singing and found it very meaningful. It was said to be composed by Brother Qin?"

"Oh, I listened to a wandering Daoist priest sing it when I was younger. It has nothing to do with me."

"..." Li Qingjun had long thought that this young man who was about the same age as himself could not possibly be some great scholar. Hearing this, he quietly said, "Excuse us." and turned to enter the mountain.

Li Qinglin suddenly said, "Brother Qin looks to be a pharmacist? So, you have all kinds of antidotes? Let us buy a few."

Li Qingjun looked at his brother strangely. They were fully prepared in all aspects. What medicine could they buy right now?

"There are no 'all kinds of antidotes'. One pill solves the problem." Qin Yi tossed them a bag, "There are two pills and ten taels of silver in it."

Li Qingjun took the bag, looked at the two red date-like pills inside, and sneered. "There is no pill that can cure all poisons. What kind of pills are you talking about?"

His voice was clear and crisp, and when he laughed like this, his heroic aura was much diluted, and he seemed just a little more charming and innocent.

Qin Yi stared at him for a while, then suddenly grinned. "This is called the Eating Dates Pill."

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Note:

Eating Dates Pill, is a chinese wordplay joke.

"Eating Dates", is said like 'chi zhao' which sounds similar to "sooner or later" which is also said like 'chi zhao'.

"Pill(s)", is said like 'yao wan' which sounds like "going to end" which is also 'yao wan'.

So "eating dates pill" (chi zhao yao wan) means "die sooner or later" (chi zhao yao wan).