Chapter 40: Returning the Courtesy
Chen Ping'an shouldered his bamboo basket and went ashore, then walked towards Green Ox Back. He wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but the youth felt that the water level of the creek seemed to have dropped somewhat.
When he approached the green stone cliff, he abruptly stopped, because he could clearly see many people standing there, each face almost perfectly visible. The reason for this was not the brilliance of the stars, but because atop that Green Ox Back stood a snowy white elk, its entire body crystalline, emitting wisps of white light like water plants swaying in the creek.
The white elk lowered its head, while a little girl in a red cotton-padded jacket stood on her tiptoes, reaching up to stroke its antlers.
Further away were a young man and woman in Daoist robes. Perhaps it was the reflection of the white elk’s light, but both had skin fairer than snow, translucent and exquisite. To put it in a metaphor: if the townsfolk were clay figurines, then these two foreign Daoists were finely crafted porcelain—a true difference as vast as heaven and earth.
The style of their Daoist robes was somewhat similar to that of Daoist Lu, who set up a fortune-telling stall, but with many different details. The most noticeable difference was the headwear: Daoist Lu wore a lotus crown, while the crowns atop their heads were shaped like a fish's tail.
The straw-sandal youth stared blankly, feeling that the man and woman standing beside the white elk seemed like figures stepping out of immortal paintings, as if they might float away at any moment, plucking stars and moons with effortless ease.
Two other people stood a bit farther off. Chen Ping'an recognized one of them: the daughter of the sword forger Master Ruan. This time, the girl in green was not carrying a bundle of food. Instead, she held a small embroidered handkerchief with only a few delicate pastries resting on it. She looked down, hesitant, as if unsure which one to start with. Beside her was a man in his early thirties, carrying a long sword on his back and wearing a strange ornament at his waist.
The moment Chen Ping'an noticed them, almost everyone else also sensed the abrupt appearance of the straw-sandal youth. The young Daoist nun looked somewhat surprised. She bent down, rubbed the head of the little girl in the red jacket, and pointed in Chen Ping'an's direction while whispering something. The little girl perked up her ears to listen to the immortal sister's question, then strained her eyes wide to look. Recognizing Chen Ping'an's appearance, she began to chatter like bamboo beans pouring out of a tube, presumably explaining Chen Ping'an's identity and background to the owner of the white elk, that immortal sister.
At that moment, Chen Ping'an also recognized the little girl of eight or nine years old. The first time he had seen her, before he went to the dragon kiln to fire pottery, he had encountered a little girl in Clay Bottle Alley with two coiled horn-like buns. She was very young but ran extremely fast, holding a paper kite. Her two thin legs, like slender bamboo poles, whisked through the air like the wind, leaving a deep impression on Chen Ping'an. Later, he saw her sporadically a few more times. Once, he had come across her lying on the edge of the Iron Lock Well, secretly tossing stones inside. Chen Ping'an had unintentionally caught her in her mischievous act. The little girl had been so frightened she immediately ran away, but after running a dozen paces, she remembered she had left her sugar-coated hawthorn stick on the well's rim. Unable to resist her craving, she ran back to the well. In her rush back and forth, she tripped and fell flat on her face. After getting up, she snatched the stick, then abruptly stopped, opened her mouth, pulled out a loose tooth, and stuffed it into her pocket. She didn’t cry or fuss, but simply continued running without another word.
That scene had made Chen Ping'an break out in a cold sweat. The last time he saw her was in that desolate patch of weeds where the broken statues stood, on an autumn evening the previous year. After leaving the dragon kiln and returning to town, Chen Ping'an had been wandering around when he spotted her busily catching crickets, rolling, jumping, and pouncing through the grass. Seeing Chen Ping'an, she clearly recognized him too, and once again vanished like a gust of wind.
Later, Chen Ping'an heard from Gu Can that this perpetually dirty little girl, though appearing to be an unruly wild child, was actually part of the Li family of Fortune Street, and not a servant or maid. But somehow, she just liked to roam around alone, and her family didn’t stop her. Gu Can, when finally mentioning her, was filled with pride and contempt, saying that no matter how fast she ran, she was really clumsy. Once, the two of them happened to be catching fish together in the stream. That idiot worked all afternoon and only caught one crab, not a single stone-slab fish. And the only reason she managed to catch that big crab was because its pincer had clamped down hard on her finger. At the time, Gu Can had told this story while rolling on the small plank bed in Chen Ping'an's room, laughing so hard he clutched his stomach, saying she was truly foolish—she had even raised her hand to show off, as if catching a crab was some great achievement. The key point was that she was clearly on the verge of tears from the crab's pincer.
The handsome young Daoist glanced at the white elk and chuckled to the young Daoist nun. "Senior Sister He, let me remind you to be careful and not spoil her too much. It's been less than ten days, and it's just an illusion technique anyway—it doesn't hinder her freedom. But you insist on not listening. Now that a mortal has seen her directly, what are we going to do?"
The stunningly beautiful Daoist nun, after listening to the little girl's introduction, smiled and said, "Let it be as it naturally unfolds."
The young Daoist frowned. He looked up again, scrutinized for a moment, but could not detect any extraordinary aura in that straw-sandal youth carrying a basket. Their sect was skilled in physiognomy and geomancy—though not the best in the entire continent, they were still quite proficient. Since this Daoist had been sent by the sect to retrieve the suppressing object and was also responsible for safely bringing back the sect's treasured mountain-guarding artifact to be submitted to the higher sect, he was certainly no ordinary talent. When he failed to see anything unusual about the youth, he lost any interest in recruiting him into the sect gates. The young Daoist prided himself on his physiognomy and did not think he could be mistaken.
Their sect was one of the three great Daoist lineages of Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent, and moreover, it was the foremost lineage of the continent's Daoist traditions, supremely noble. He and Senior Sister He had traveled out together this time. As compensation, each had been granted a precious quota for recruiting a true disciple into the sect, who would also become their own personal disciple. Thus, he did not wish to squander this opportunity carelessly; he must treat it with caution.
Everyone in the sect knew that Senior Sister He placed great emphasis on cultivating the heart. So her lighthearted remark about "letting it be as it naturally unfolds" might well mean she had taken a liking to taking on a disciple.
He and He Xiaoliang were hailed as the Golden Boy and Jade Maiden of Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent, the favored children of the continent's Daoist tradition. Even mortal kings would treat them with the utmost courtesy, a formality no less heavy than that accorded to the true lords of great nations.
Because they were the most promising cultivation prodigies on the continent, most likely to ascend to the upper five realms.
When the young Daoist nun took the little girl's hand and walked down from Green Ox Back, the spiritual white elk following behind, not only was her fellow disciple, the young Daoist, baffled, but also the sword-bearing strategist with the tiger tally at his waist showed a look of surprise.
When he saw the young Daoist nun approaching slowly, Chen Ping'an felt a headache coming on. The youth was now unwilling to deal with these immortal outsiders.
Because Chen Ping'an knew that their simple likes, dislikes, joys, and angers would determine his own life, death, honor, and disgrace.
And Chen Ping'an knew his luck had never been very good, so he was even more afraid of provoking them.
Nevertheless, Chen Ping'an was not about to flee in panic. On the contrary, he symbolically walked forward a short distance, so that to others, his behavior seemed appropriate.
The white elk quickened its pace, trotted over, circled the straw-sandal youth once, and then lowered its head, gently nuzzling the impoverished young man.
The white elk returned to its master. She gently stroked its back, and in the next moment, it transformed into a horse.
Pointing at a deer and calling it a horse.
The young Daoist nun looked at Chen Ping'an, sighed faintly, and said something with a smile. Then she looked down at the little girl in the red cotton jacket.
The little girl interpreted it into the town dialect, speaking timidly, "Sister He said, 'You are a person who cherishes blessings, but it's a pity that our affinity is shallow, so we cannot become fellow cultivators.'"
The youth was speechless, because he had no idea what to say without being disrespectful.
Carrying a bamboo basket, wearing straw sandals, with his trousers rolled up—the youth looked especially comical and ridiculous.
The Daoist nun asked with a smile, "So you also know the wonderful uses of these stones? Chen Ping'an, don't worry, I'm just asking casually."
The little girl translated rapidly in a crisp voice.
Chen Ping'an hesitated, then nodded. "A Daoist priest once reminded me that I could often come to the creek to pick up stones and catch fish."
Even though Chen Ping'an felt goodwill toward this young female Daoist, for caution's sake, he did not even reveal the surname of Daoist Lu. Moreover, the one who had actually leaked the heavenly secret and pointed out the value of the gallbladder stones was Ning Yao.
The Daoist nun smiled. "Do you also know our Junior Uncle Lu?"
Chen Ping'an was stunned.
The Daoist nun smiled knowingly and gave a rough explanation. "Junior Uncle Lu, strictly speaking, is not of our same lineage. However, many years ago, Daoist Lu visited our sect and became friends with one of our uncles on an equal generation basis. He stayed for quite a few years. We younger generations are familiar with him, so we naturally grew accustomed to calling him 'Junior Uncle.'"
Chen Ping'an grinned broadly, completely dropping his guard.
The straw-sandal youth felt gratitude toward Daoist Lu that would never be forgotten.
He remembered something. He bent down, set down his basket, and picked up one of the stones that had caught his eye earlier. It was as big as an egg, emerald green, clear as ice, different from the other gallbladder stones. He handed it to the young Daoist nun, whose aura was like that of an orchid. "Daoist, if you ever see Daoist Lu again, could you give him this stone for me?"
After listening to the little girl's interpretation, she considered for a moment, took the stone, and said slowly, "Before coming here, I happened to run into Junior Uncle just as he was leaving. He was going to South Watermelon State to attend an important ceremony at a Daoist sect. It's hard to say when we'll meet next, but if I do see Junior Uncle Lu, I will definitely give him this stone for you."
Chen Ping'an listened to the little girl's words, his smile radiant, and he bowed to the young Daoist nun, whom he had taken a great liking to, in thanks.
For strangers, good or bad, the youth had always trusted his intuition.
Like with Fu Nanhua and Cai Jinjian, or with Daoist Lu and Miss Ning.
Chen Ping'an took out another gallbladder stone and handed it to her again.
This female Daoist, acclaimed as "the foremost in opportunity" among the younger generation of Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent, did not refuse. She accepted it with a smile and thanked him.
The little girl in the red jacket twisted her fingers together and whispered, "I want one too."
Chen Ping'an turned around with a smile and went to his basket to pick a stone for the little girl.
She ran up to him and said cautiously, "I want a bigger one, is that okay?"
Chen Ping'an laughed. "As long as you can carry it, I'll give you the biggest one. But it's not a short distance from here to town and then to your home. Also, I think the big ones in the basket are not as good as the small ones."
She thought for a moment, then rested her hands on the edge of the basket. "Alright, then I want a small one, a pretty one."
Chen Ping'an gave her a small, lotus-pink stone, round and lovely. The little girl held it in her palm, very satisfied.
Suddenly, she tilted her head, pulled back her lips, pointed to her teeth, and then grinned at Chen Ping'an, looking very proud.
Probably showing off that her teeth had grown back.
Chen Ping'an said cheerfully, "Next time, let's go catch crickets together."
The little girl's eyes lit up, but then quickly dimmed. She nodded with a forced smile.
Chen Ping'an shouldered his basket, took his leave from the young Daoist nun, waved to the little girl, and trotted back alone toward the town.
This same female immortal was of a caliber that Cai Jinjian of Cloud Mist Mountain could never match—it was like celestial gold compared to mundane gold.
She led the little girl and the white elk back to Green Ox Back. The young Daoist withdrew his gaze from the straw-sandal youth's retreating back and concluded, "Shallow affinity means scarce blessings, so naturally not worth much."
In Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent, Daoist sects were as numerous as ox hairs. Every thirty years, a pair of "Golden Boy and Jade Maiden" would be selected. He and his senior sister He Xiaoliang were this term's natural Daoist pair. Yet something astonishing had occurred: although the Golden Boy's aptitude was no worse than previous ones, the Jade Maiden's opportunities were so extraordinarily good they were almost infuriating. At her birth, one of the auspicious omens—a white elk—had voluntarily emerged from the wild mountains and marshes, come to her side, and acknowledged her as its master. Afterward, she set foot on the path of cultivation with seemingly no obstacles, her journey smooth and untroubled. Some even claimed she would encounter her first bottleneck only after reaching the upper five realms.
As for her junior brother's disdain for that straw-sandal youth, she made no comment and merely smiled.
At this time, a short, thin youth had come from near the deep pool under the covered bridge all the way to the puddle at the foot of Green Ox Back, holding a single gallbladder stone. Like the white elk earlier, it was radiating brilliant light in the darkness.
This wooden-faced youth stood on a protruding rock, like a celestial being holding a miniature full moon.
The two fish, one green and one red, raised by the young Daoist, did not enter the water but swam slowly above the creek.
If Chen Ping'an had seen this youth, he would have recognized him as the grandson of Granny Ma from Apricot Flower Lane.
Since childhood, the youth had been simple-minded. His parents had disliked him from a young age, and Granny Ma had raised him herself. He was very unsociable, often climbing onto the rooftop alone to stare at the clouds.
From childhood to adulthood, this youth, who had taken the surname Ma after his grandmother, had been bullied so badly that people felt even stepping on him would dirty their shoes. This pitiful child seemed only to have smiled at Zhigui, the maidservant from Clay Bottle Alley.
That was why Granny Ma held such a particular grudge against that maidservant, believing her to be a shameless seductress who must have taken the initiative to seduce her precious grandson.
The young female Daoist walked over to the sword-bearing man and asked, "Regarding Ma Kuxuan, is there truly no room for negotiation?"
The man replied coldly, "If your little junior uncle truly wants to take this child as his first disciple, why doesn't he come himself? No matter how famous his name is, has he ever fought me? Why should I give way to him? If he's dissatisfied, he can come to True Martial Mountain to find me. If he wins, he can take the child away."
The young Daoist said with a smile, "Don't you think it's unnecessary to make our junior uncle run an extra errand?"
A needle hidden in cotton.
The sword-bearing, tally-wearing man narrowed his eyes. "Oh?"
The young female Daoist felt a bit frustrated. She glanced at her junior brother. The young Daoist laughed heartily and stopped engaging in verbal sparring. He looked up and said, "What a beautiful moon tonight."
She felt helpless.
Whenever it involved that junior uncle of their sect, not just she and her junior brother, but likely all young Daoists on the continent felt a sense of pride.
By the covered bridge, at the foot of the steps, stood a barefoot monk. His face was square and resolute, with a look of tenacity and fortitude.
This ascetic monk did not look up at the gold-lettered plaque but instead gazed at the spot where Song Jixin had previously stuck incense. He placed his palms together and bowed his head in compassion. "Amitabha."
The short youth came ashore and walked up to Green Ox Back. He looked at the two ethereal young Daoists, then at the expressionless sword-bearing man. Finally, he fixed his gaze on the latter, who wore the tiger tally, and said through gritted teeth, "I don't want to learn any great Dao of longevity. Can you teach me how to kill people?!"
The man said proudly, "I, of the Military Strategist sword cultivators, have been the most powerful in killing under heaven since ancient times!"
The young Daoist retorted with a smile, "Oh?"
The young female Daoist shook her head, knowing the situation was set, and felt that she had failed her junior uncle's entrustment, a weight of guilt in her heart.
For a moment, on the bank by the Green Ox Back, swords and talismans bristled, the atmosphere heavy.
The little girl from the Li family in the red cotton jacket quickly hid behind the immortal sister.
The young woman in green had just finished her last pastry and was in a terrible mood. She said bluntly, "If you're so capable, go fight my father!"
The man, who had a deep connection with the girl and her father, no longer wore a stern face. He smiled and asked, "How would we fight?"
The young Daoist teased, "Ruan Xiu, that's a bit overbearing. Your father is the next sage to succeed Mr. Qi—like the master of this realm."
The young woman in green pursed her lips and said nothing.
The monk walked up slowly and stepped onto Green Ox Back.
The young female Daoist said, "Your Buddhist Thunder Sound Pagoda, our Daoist Heavenly Master Seal, plus the Military Strategist's Small Sword Tomb, and of course the Confucian Mountain Jade Token. These four suppressing objects left by the earliest four sages—not to mention the internal conflicts among the Confucians themselves, but for the three of us, now that we are each retrieving them, it may be legitimate, but wouldn't it be inappropriate if we left without even saying a word to Mr. Qi?"
The monk remained silent.
The young Daoist said worriedly, "It's a bit unfeeling, but the orders from above are hard to defy. Senior Sister, it's better not to add unnecessary complications."
The Military Strategist laughed mockingly, "I'm not here to curry favor with anyone."
––––
Back in town, Chen Ping'an returned to the alley where Liu Xianyang's house was, only to see Mr. Qi standing at the doorway.
The youth ran quickly. Before he could ask, Qi Jingchun handed him two personal seals and said with a smile, "Chen Ping'an, I'm not giving them to you for free. I have a request to make. If the Mountain Cliff Academy ever faces trouble in the future, I hope you will help as much as you can. Of course, you don't need to deliberately inquire about the academy's news."
The youth only said one word, "Okay!"
Qi Jingchun nodded and said earnestly, "Remember what I said to you before: 'The righteous man does not save.' Those were words from the bottom of my heart, not a test of human nature."
The youth grinned. "Sir, I can't guarantee that."
Qi Jingchun seemed about to say something but stopped. In the end, he said nothing and was about to leave.
He had originally wanted to say that if Mountain Cliff Academy truly faced a great predicament, and Chen Ping'an regretted his promise, he should not feel guilty. He could simply pretend he hadn't seen or heard anything and not act deliberately.
But for some reason, deep in his heart, Qi Jingchun clung to a shred of hope—a hope that even he could not explain.
After much thought, this master of Mountain Cliff Academy could only arrive at one answer: it was simply because the youth before him was named Chen Ping'an. He seemed different from everyone else.
If you entrusted him with a task, no matter how difficult, even if you knew the youth would give his all and still fail, you could still be certain of one thing: as long as he agreed, he would do it. If ten parts of strength weren't enough, he would grit his teeth and exert twelve parts.
That was something that brought peace of mind.
This was something Qi Jingchun had sought for years without finding. This scholar, who had willingly asked for demotion to this place, had once felt that every corner of the world was a foreign land.
Just as Qi Jingchun was about to turn, the youth, still carrying his bamboo basket, hastily and laboriously performed a deep bow.
In the narrow alley, the Confucian sage returned the bow with equal formality.