“I think they’re really excited. Maybe they feel they’re starting to travel. The herbs were throbbing in the palm of my hand like little fish, and I still feel that sensation,” Mrs. Yi said. One side of her face felt hot.

“Like little fish!—that’s exactly what I need to get better.” Uncle Ma patted his big belly, which was swollen with ascitic fluid, and said, “This kind of plant absorbs the essence of the rock. I’m so lucky! Thank you very much, Mrs. Yi.”

“You are a lucky man for sure, even when you’re ill. You see, now you have a precious friendship. Most people never get the chance to be friends with such beautiful herbs.”

Uncle Ma nodded, and pointing to the butterfly on the chrysanthemum, he said, “We live at the foot of a mountain, and we have everything we need, don’t we?”

“Absolutely. How do you feel now?”

“Never better! The mountain cypress can raise the dead.”

Mrs. Yi laughed. She felt that he wasn’t like a dying patient. She sighed, “Yun Village, how wise your villagers are!”

Uncle Ma calmed down. He remembered something.

“Mrs. Yi, when you approached that cave today, did you hear anything?”

“Ah, yes. I heard the clattering sound of falling sand and rocks.”

“This is good! They can’t wait. My wife is preparing the herbal medicine for me. I am also kind of impatient. It’s wonderful to be alive, but even if I were to die, I would have no regrets.”

Mrs. Yi looked admiringly at her patient, and thought to herself, This must be one of those happy encounters. How had the mountain cypress walked down the hill into the body of Uncle Ma? She thought of Gray again, and of the torment the young man had endured before making up his mind.

“Mrs. Yi, I will pray for you every day, even after I go to the other side,” Ma said as he saw her out.

Mrs. Yi visited Uncle Ma every other day. She noticed that Uncle Ma’s belly was swelling more and more, but his state of mind was better and better. Every time she saw him, he told her of good news like the magpie laying eggs, a seven-leaf flower growing next to the courtyard wall, or his deceased grandson coming into his dream. These were of course but sensory phenomena that occurred near death, but they were also happiness. The three of them—Mrs. Yi and Uncle Ma and his wife—shared this happiness. They didn’t feel depressed. Mrs. Ma even set up a big mirror on the fence so her husband wouldn’t have to take the bumpy path in order to see the woods on the other side of the road. Uncle Ma knew all about the living creatures in the woods, for he used to be a hunter.

“Mrs. Yi, the person whom he most admires is you,” said Aunt Ma.

“Why me? I can’t cure him!” Mrs. Yi replied with a big smile.

“That isn’t the point.”