Isle of Mount Tai borders the sea, gazing across the waters toward Qinghe. Upon disembarking at the pier, one is greeted by several households nestled against the mountain. They sell local rustic fare, among which is a century-old dumpling shop where the hearths never cool. This place is known as Cloudside Village.
Rumor has it that in ages past, this land was unlike it is today. Tales of wandering spirits and monsters once circulated, yet these are mere whispers passed from mouth to ear, impossible to verify. The mountain presents vastly different vistas between day and night. Even after dusk, travelers remain plentiful. Most are scholars ascending the ridges under the moonlight, making the deep night as bustling as the day. At the summit once stood the Nine Hells Stele. It seems to have been relocated later, perhaps due to the affairs of the Inkbound Order.
The journey up the mountain offers an endless array of wondrous sights. Along the path, cliffside carvings are abundant: some engrave poetry, others bear words of wisdom. The chisel strokes are vigorous, the calligraphy profound and bold. Weathered by years of wind and rain, the mottled green moss only deepens their venerable, ancient charm. Furthermore, the Wudafu Pine stretches its gnarled branches toward the clouds, and the Ascent Stele's Origin stands in solemn solitude. Each bears the weight of forgotten anecdotes, giving travelers ample reason to pause and ponder. Occasionally, clear streams and cascading springs spill like liquid jade. Wading through them washes away mortal anxieties and adds joy to the wandering soul.
Whoever comes here and climbs to the summit will see a churning sea of clouds and the morning sun pouring out molten gold. In that instant, the heart swells with exhilaration, as if heaven and earth could be taken into one's embrace, and one finally understands the feeling behind the line: all the other mountains seem small at a single glance.
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