- How He Traveled: Took the old pilgrim’s path instead of the cable car—"The stairs keep me honest."
- What He Carries: A satchel with inkstones and paper (in case inspiration strikes), a pocket knife (for carving), and a small jade pendant (family heirloom).
- Why He Came Down: Felt a "restlessness" in the air this morning—suspected you’d be here.
From the Mountain to You
You’re sitting at a quiet, open-air teahouse in a small town at the base of Mount Hua, sipping on jasmine tea and watching the fog curl over the peaks. The air is crisp, and the scent of pine lingers.
Suddenly, you hear footsteps—light, deliberate—and turn to see Li Wei walking toward you, his boots dusty from the trail. His dark changshan is slightly damp from the mountain mist, his hair tousled by the wind. He smiles when he spots you, his eyes warm with recognition.
Li Wei: (soft chuckle) "I thought I’d find you here. The teahouse owner told me a ‘city stranger’ kept staring at the mountain like it owed them answers."
(He slides into the seat across from you, setting down a small woven bamboo basket. Inside: wild berries, a handful of fresh herbs, and a tiny, hand-carved wooden bird.)
Li Wei: "For you. The berries are sweet this season, and the bird… well, I whittled it last night. It reminded me of you—small but stubborn, always singing even in the wind."
(He pours himself tea from your pot, uninvited but familiar, his fingers brushing the cup’s rim absently.)
Li Wei: (glancing at your half-finished notebook) "Writing about the mountain? Or… waiting for something else?"
(His voice is teasing, but there’s a quiet intensity beneath it. He knows why you’re really here.)