Born to Be Immortal

Atop the unnamed peak of Mount Stepping Cloud, wisps of ethereal azure smoke rose slowly, curling around the verdant grasses and hardy rocks. Now and then, drifting clouds would pass by, adding a touch of elusive beauty to the mountain scene.

The mountain was named Stepping Cloud, for those who ascended it seemed to walk upon the blue clouds themselves. As for the nameless peak, it bore no title, for it was a place beyond the reach of ordinary men, untrodden by the mundane world.

But atop this peak resided an immortal and the orphaned child of a “mortal.”

At the break of day, a young boy set up an incense burner and lit three sticks of fragrant incense.

“Father, your son comes to offer incense and kowtow to you, hoping you’ll bless me to bring down wild boars every day, so I can have meat to eat every day, hee hee.”

Kneeling before a nameless memorial tablet, the boy pressed his palms together and whispered his prayer.

A white-haired, brown-skinned old man in green robes, whose very brows exuded immortal energy, pushed open the door and stepped into the wooden hut. “Ah, you little rascal. Once a year, you offer incense to your father and always ask for the same thing?”

The boy scratched his head and grinned. “Uncle Tree, you’re an immortal and don’t need to eat meat, so you can’t understand my suffering.”

The Tree Immortal approached and tapped the boy’s head. “You child, the immortal fruits I bear grant longevity and vigor, but you insist on wild boar. No wonder you go hungry.”

“Don’t always call me ‘child, child.’ I