The sect's affairs are burdensome, and I am constantly called away from the mountain on our master's errands t…
The sect's affairs are burdensome, and I am constantly called away from the mountain on our master's errands to visit old friends at Dragonbend Academy. Though you returned years ago, we have not once had the chance for a long conversation. The days of our youth feel as distant as the fading starlight.
The Sky Shuttle is now complete; it awaits only your finished water rails to be set in motion. Yet, though we bestow upon it the name "Sky Shuttle," it possesses no true ability to fly. I must confess, my aptitude for the mechanical arts has always been dull.
As my years increase, I feel the pressing weight of time. Life is but a fleeting moment. It is my deepest regret that even with a lifetime devoted to these mechanisms, true progress remains merely an inch out of reach!
While reviewing some texts the other day, a sudden realization struck me: In ancient times, the Foolish Old Man was not deterred by the sheer mass of the mountain. He struck with his chisel day after day, his descendants continuing his labor, until the mountain's shape was finally altered. It is much like farming. One turns the soil, waters the seeds, and repeats the toil daily, until the harvest is inevitably reaped.
Our sect has hidden in these mountains for a thousand years. When will our ultimate pursuit be realized? Just as the candlelight of this old sanctuary illuminates my present, so too can I become the light for those who follow.
Rain and prayers, a rainbow in the west... Blessed by the east wind, may the harvest flourish.
Whether the Sky Shuttle is one day rebuilt along a new course, or a true "Star Raft" is fashioned to cross the heavens, these things I must leave to those who follow.