The tea is still warm; as if the people there had never left the room.
Leonid: Phew. Home safe. No one's brain is permanently wrecked. Thank goodness.
Leonid: But I'd never regret taking this journey with you, sir.
Leonid: Earlier, you said your name was Yànpíng ... But you call yourself Gětiān, after your people, so what do I call you?
Getian: If you don't mind, simply call me "Gětiān."
He pauses for a moment, and solemnly speaks the young man's name.
Getian: Leonid.
Leonid: Yes? I'm listening.
Getian: Is that your true name?
Leonid: Oh. Like I said in the beginning, names aren't important. We use them only for the sake of communication ... Hope mine is not too tough to remember.
Leonid: If you wish to know the name I usually go with ... My other colleagues always refer to me as "Name Day."
A second introduction. Like a handshake from a friend.
Getian: I see.
Name Day: A toast to you, Mr. Gětiān.
The young man raises his cup.
Name Day: To peace.
Getian: ... To peace.
The bird extends his wing and pushes his cup towards the man. The man lowers his.
The cups reach each other, making a single clink.
Name Day: It's still nagging at me. When did you figure out that we were dreaming?
Getian: The very moment you appeared as "Lǐzhèng."
Name Day: How ... Did I do something wrong?
Getian: No. It was only that you asked me about my friends' whereabouts.
Getian: It was odd that you'd ask.
Getian: And that besides, your bones were a poor match to his appearance.
Getian: Illusions are difficult to perform, much like this Artificial Somnambulism. With diligent practice, you might become very good indeed.
Name Day: Now you do sound like someone who's centuries old.
Name Day: Let me get all the information sorted out, hopefully I will have some time left to show you around in the branch. The one in reality, of course.
Getian: Take your time.
But the man busily digging into his files seems not to hear him.
Name Day: I'll put you down as ... "not hostile." In fact, you are kind, sensible, and very pleasant to converse with.
Name Day: But I will have to ask that question again.
Name Day: Please don't worry. My job is done, so your answer won't affect your assessment.
Getian: I see. Finish what you have started.
Name Day: When we first met, I asked you which was more important to you, the bone wand or the jade pendant.
Name Day: At that time, I was only trying to figure out if you had a preference. One perhaps you shared with humans and arcanists.
Name Day: But you already answered that through your stories: you treat them both as equals. Just as you value the wand and pendant.
Name Day: Are you sure you value them equally? What if you have to give up either of them to survive one day?
Getian: As we talked, I worried whether you might take the wand and the pendant from me.
He looks into the young man's eyes.
Getian: I told myself you meant no harm. You only wanted to learn more about me.
Getian: From my story, you should know there is always a third option for me ...
Getian: I would have traded my life for them.
Getian: If I had to make a choice between the wand and the pendant, I would give you my bones.
Name Day: Your bones.
Slowly, he repeats the words and nods.
Name Day: I didn't expect that answer.
He closes his notebook, and rises to push the chair back under the table, before turning around.
Name Day: Please wait another moment. I need to pause the Artificial Somnambulism program first and bring you back to the waking world as the protocol requested.
Name Day: I wish you a wonderful journey from here on. Your registration documents will be issued shortly.
Name Day: Not long before, we encountered a poet from an island. Perhaps you will see him too in the future; I think you'd have a great time together.
Getian: I will look forward to it.
Name Day: Also ... I didn't lie about my love of stories. Should you hear more during your journey, I hope you might share them with me.
Name Day: Can you write with your wings? Like using a quill pen.
Getian: I will attempt to do so.
The bird raises his wing; performing something as close to a wave as he can do.
Getian: Goodbye.
Finally returning to his solitude. The bird preens himself while enjoying the peace of the moment.
He has seen and heard so much since he left the mountain, but rarely took the time to look back on his stories.
The tea, the ink, the paper. The metal pot, the wooden table, the stone paved road. So many things he had never seen in the mountains.
He was a newborn chick, and the mountain, the brook, and the forest were his shell. Now the shell has been gently cracked, and he flows out into a bowl.
That bowl might be roughly made, but the liquid inside is clear and good, reflecting the sky, the mountains, and everything ...
Getian: Perhaps this explains why people in the human world love liquor.
Getian: I should have drunk with them, when I had the chance.
The bird closes his eyes.
There is still time to enjoy the moment, before he wakes up from this dream.
Getian: Life beyond the mountain is indeed chaotic.
Getian: I never intended to stay long in the city after that transformation mystery was solved.
Getian: But now, I'm even further away from home.
Getian: Perhaps I will never return home again.
Getian: Even so it was good to see it once more ... if only in a dream.
Gětiān sits on the scholar tree, just as he had before. With the wind still blowing through his feathers.
But he feels now that he is no longer as he was.
Getian: If time went back to that day, I would still fly down the mountain.
Getian: The owner of that tavern was young. Stubborn, because of her youth. But she has always been true to herself.
Getian: She grew up in that city, growing close to her neighbors, she loved them like they were her own kin.
Getian: If she did jump over that bridge, she must be a real Xiángruì now. She must be pleased.
Getian: As for those two foreign merchants, they weren't scared away by all the trouble. They stayed till the very end.
Getian: That day, I saw the lanterns floating down the river glowing brighter than ever before.
Getian: And that Hexagram of Water and Fire. The choice to be made. Xū, with water above and sky below. The Hexagram of waiting.
Getian: I hope they left the city with what they wanted. Till this day, I still wonder which path that lady with unreadable bones ultimately chose.
Getian: That young man was another interesting person. I wonder whom I will meet next.
Getian: How would I know the limits of the mountain if I didn't leave it? Yet the world turns out to be another bowl.
Getian: Fine. I shall listen to the wind before anything comes up.
