Master Wang had gained an epiphany from the art of Borrowing Spirit: borrow, but don't return.
"Little Round Mountain... Yuan Mountain. What auspicious names."
Now that he had found his target, Wang Meng was in no hurry. He sat down cross-legged to one side, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, silently enjoying the cool mountain breeze.
Wan'Er was a fast cook, as if she'd specifically trained for it. Before long, her call came from a distance, "Young Master, it's time to eat!"
Wang Meng walked over. A clean, woven floral mat had been spread on the grass, laden with all sorts of exquisite food.
About ten feet away, Wan'Er was still grilling various meats on a rack—wild rabbit and fish, all of which she had caught herself while playing around on their way up the mountain.
Under Wan'Er's expectant gaze, Wang Meng began to eat.
"Delicious! Wan'Er, you're a master chef! Is this still fish? Why does it taste like dragon meat?"
