"No," replied Woo Ling-foh, "we did not leave the girl in danger for she was in truth but a spirit and therefore she was safe in the spiritual Blue City. It has been given you to see that which few men have ever witnessed during their natural lives. You should be content. Because one can not always see the Blue City does not prove its non-existence. For neither can one see with the unaided eye the ultra-violet ray. But enough. Do not dwell too much on the happenings of the night that has passed. It would be unwise. It might unbalance your reason. Too profound meditation has its dangers. That is why no philosopher is entirely sane."
During the weeks that followed,
Hwei-Ti sat long in his garden.
He brooded over the Blue City. A
great melancholy descended upon
him. He was in love, in love with a
gorgeous girl who lived in a spirit
city. Perhaps she had been dead for
fifty years. His life lay in ruins. He
was very wealthy, but his wealth
was not sufficient to bring that wondrous
girl to him. He could not
have been more despondent if he had
been the veriest beggar in the market-place.
He lost his desire for food.
Sam-shu held no allure. He grew
thin and haggard. Old Woo Ling-foh
had gone off on a pilgrimage to
the South, so he could not accompany
him to the city once again.
Weeks rolled by. They lengthened into months. And Hwei-Ti remained in his garden. Desiring, dreaming, yearning for the magic city and the lovely girl.
And he thought of the prediction of the old philosopher, that he would not live six months. He believed it to be true, for he was ill from longing. He was on the threshold of death and he did not care. There was naught left to him in the world. Gold and jewels—what need had he for such worthless baubles? They could not buy happiness.
Then again came Woo Ling-foh.
"I am dying," murmured Hwei-Ti, "and before I finally expire I wish once more to visit the wondrous Blue City."
"I wonder," mused Woo Ling-foh. "I wonder whether death is really death, or is it life? Is it the birth of the soul? For surely when it is set free from the body, to wander untrammeled through the universe, it can not be death. However, vain speculations interest only those who like to spend their hours in such pursuits."
"I wish once more to visit the magical city," repeated Hwei-Ti.
"It would be dangerous," replied Woo Ling-foh. "We escaped with our lives only by the width of a spun golden thread. To return would be to court disaster. You are too emotional. Be content. Wander not into realms that are fraught with danger."
Hwei-Ti sprang to his feet. He seized the old man by the throat. His reason snapped. Slowly his long fingers closed about the lean old throat. "If you do not take me to the mountain-top from which we walked off into the Moon Road," he cried hoarsely, "your life shall end at this moment!"
Woo Ling-foh flung Hwei-Ti's fingers from about his throat. He was not angry at the attack, for he realized that madness was creeping over his friend. He was not afraid, but he acceded to his wishes because he believed that calm death would be preferable to the maniacal existence toward which Hwei-Ti was plunging.
So in the evening he called again at the garden and together they set off toward the mountain-road. Hwei-Ti was very weak. Only his will to reach the Blue City carried him forward. He was overtaxing his feeble strength in this one superb effort, but he did not care. His craving was to be satiated.
