The wooden cart couldn't go up, so it stayed down with the black pot. Though Granny Sha was old, she was nimble and followed him onto the cliff.
The cliff was a floating island of about eight or nine hundred acres, as if it had flown out from the large southern lake, chained by gods and demons to prevent it from flying beyond the sky. Moss covered the island everywhere, even on the trees, making it very damp.
Walking on the cliff, the air was fresh, and the scenery of clear mountains and water stretched before their eyes.
There were actually people chopping wood here, but it was difficult to carry the wood down because the chains were also slippery with moss, and one could easily fall off if not careful.
Chen Shi was puzzled, how did they transport the wood down?
Granny Sha explained, "They are residents here. The place isn't large, but it has six or seven villages."
Chen Shi exclaimed in surprise, "They live here? How do they get down?"
