Chapter 67: A Distant Journey
Two days before Qi Jingchun set down those chopsticks, some ominous signs appeared in the small town. The water level in the iron-lock well dropped drastically. Locust branches snapped off from the tree trunk and fell, their leaves withered and yellow, clearly not following the pattern of spring growth and autumn withering. Outside the town, where many clay and wooden statues of gods lay scattered about, cracking sounds like firecrackers often echoed in the dead of night. The curious who went to investigate found that near the town, most of the clay bodhisattvas and wooden immortals that had still been there last winter had already vanished.
Oxcarts and horse-drawn carriages departing from Fulu Street and Taoye Lane never stopped. On the streets paved with large bluestone slabs, even in the dead of night, the clatter of ox and horse hooves disturbed people’s dreams.
Those outsiders in splendid clothes, exuding wealth and nobility, also began to hurry away. Most wore displeased expressions, gathering in twos and threes, often pointing angrily toward the direction of the town’s study hall.
Zheng Dafeng, the bachelor guarding the east gate of the town, had disappeared. The Kiln Affairs Supervisory Office showed no intention of finding a replacement. So the town was like a person missing two front teeth—speaking easily let the wind slip through.
Liu Baqiao and Chen Songfeng returned along the same path. By the time they could see the outline of the covered bridge, it was dusk. Liu Baqiao followed a small path to the stream bank, crouched down, cupped his hands, and splashed water on his face. Apparently unsatisfied with the lack of thoroughness, he simply put his butt in the air, lay flat on the ground, and submerged his entire head in the stream. Finally, he lifted his head abruptly and shouted in delight. Turning to look at the drenched Chen Songfeng, he teased, “A frail scholar, weak as a chicken.”
Chen Songfeng merely cupped some stream water to drink, his voice hoarse. “The reason I worked so hard to become a Qi Refiner was simply to strengthen my body, to live a few more years and read a few more books. How could I compare to you sword cultivators? Besides, in this Li Zhu Small Cave Heaven, Qi Refiners who aren’t sword cultivators are at the biggest disadvantage. The slightest slip in circulating Qi consumes cultivation base. The higher the realm, the greater the loss. It never occurred to me that my low cultivation would actually turn out to be a blessing.”
Liu Baqiao patted his shoulder. “Why not switch paths and join our Wind and Thunder Garden to practice swordsmanship? I’ll have your back. Think about it—becoming a sword cultivator, flying on your sword, a hundred thousand feet high, swift as wind and lightning, especially during thunder and rain, riding your sword through it all…”
Chen Songfeng suddenly laughed. “I heard that the sword cultivator in the Wind and Thunder Garden who gets struck by lightning the most is named…”
Liu Baqiao extended a hand. “Stop right there!”
Sword cultivators were also a type of Qi Refiner, but compared to ordinary Qi Refiners, their physical bodies leaned more toward pure martial artists on another path. Simply put, regarding bones, muscles, flesh, energy, spirit, and soul, sword cultivators pursued both. Other Qi Refiners only needed their physical bodies not to be a hindrance; they didn’t deliberately temper them. Of course, while cultivating Qi and refining Qi, Qi Refiners naturally honed their bodies like spring rain moistening things, but compared to sword cultivators, the intensity and frequency of body tempering were far less, and they certainly couldn’t match martial artists in single-minded, unflagging dedication.
For the world’s Qi Refiners, there was a consensus: the physical body, after all, was something that constantly decayed; just having enough was fine. To be fortunate enough to cultivate an indestructible vajra body or a pure liuli body was best, but if not, that was also fine. One must not become obsessed and neglect the fundamental path.
Liu Baqiao asked casually, “That distant relative of yours, what realm of martial artist is he?”
Chen Songfeng said helplessly, “How would I know such confidential matters?”
Liu Baqiao recalled the conflict that had erupted in the main hall of the government office that day and said with emotion, “Song Changjing is just too strong. What’s most frightening is that this Great Li vassal king is still so young. Most eighth and ninth realm martial artists are over fifty or even sixty, and a hundred isn’t considered old either. But if I remember correctly, Song Changjing is only around forty. No wonder that person once laughed and said he ‘needed to have his arrogance suppressed.’”
Chen Songfeng said softly, “Born at the right time, blessed by heaven.”
Upper five realm cultivators were like dragons showing only their heads, never their tails—extremely hard to find. But eighth and ninth realm martial artists were often known throughout the world and were not far removed from worldly dynasties. Moreover, the climb in martial arts relied on life-and-death battles. At the brink of life and death, seeing life and death, one could break through life and death and obtain a transcendent state of mind similar to Buddhism’s “freedom” or Taoism’s “purity.”
Apart from sparring between two grandmasters, eighth and ninth realm martial artists most enjoyed bullying top-tier Qi Refiners in the middle five realms. Especially someone like Song Changjing, the strongest of the ninth realm, was almost undefeated below the upper five realms. Only sword cultivators among Qi Refiners could fight him, and even then, they could only strive to lose less disgracefully and gain a reputation for honorable defeat.
However, there was an obscure reason why ninth realm martial artists were so unrestrained: the cultivators on the tenth floor, the top of the middle five realms, had no interest in worldly disputes. They didn’t even care about family survival or dynastic rise and fall—their only concern was the “Great Path.”
Liu Baqiao was still lost in his thoughts. “Song Changjing told me that after I leave the town, I have to obtain the talisman sword by my own ability. Should I give the Wind and Thunder Garden a heads-up to prepare a celebration banquet?”
Chen Songfeng didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Staring at the shallow, knee-deep flowing water, he thought of Song Changjing and the dashing young man by the vassal king’s side. Chen Songfeng vaguely sensed a gathering momentum. He decided that after returning to the ancestral home of the Chen clan in Longwei Commandery, he must persuade the family to bet on the Great Li dynasty. Even if they couldn’t go all in, they should let the younger generation of the Chen clan integrate into the Great Li court as soon as possible.
Chen Songfeng murmured, “The Great Li’s momentum is now such that when the time comes, heaven and earth join forces. Therefore, my Chen clan must support the dragon—we cannot just compete to cling to its scales.”
Liu Baqiao asked, “What are you mumbling about?”
Chen Songfeng stood up, shook his hands, and smiled. “You seem to have hit it off with that boy from Niping Alley.”
Liu Baqiao stood up as well, carefree. “Meeting by chance, parting as fate dictates. Who knows if we’ll ever see him again?”
The two walked ashore together, stepping on the spring grass by the stream. Chen Songfeng asked, “I heard that the blessed land within the Nanjian Kingdom will open to the public this winter, allowing dozens of people to enter. Since you still can’t break through your bottleneck, why not go down and try your luck?”
Liu Baqiao sneered. “Absolutely not. Going to an anthill to throw my weight around—I’d be embarrassed to death.”
Chen Songfeng shook his head. “Mr. Liu from my family once said that the state of mind is like a mirror; the more you polish it, the brighter it gets. Therefore, training the state of mind on the Dao Ancestor’s lotus platform is certainly beneficial. But occasionally rolling around in a small mud puddle isn’t necessarily without merit. Going to a blessed land as an exiled immortal, discarding your past body and forgetting your past life—whether enjoying blessings or suffering hardships, more or less…”
Before Chen Songfeng could finish, Liu Baqiao interrupted, “I have too strong a competitive nature. Once I go to a blessed land with thin spiritual energy, if I can’t break the restrictions by my own ability and return home, I’ll definitely develop a complex. That would be a loss greater than gain. Besides, if I accidentally get bullied by the ‘locals’ in the blessed land, that’s another mental obstacle. After I return to my true self, even if it costs a huge price, I’d definitely want to descend in my ‘true form’ to feel satisfied. But wouldn’t that go against my original intention?”
Liu Baqiao put his hands behind his head, his face full of disdain. “Frankly speaking, those three blessed lands in our East Treasure Vial Continent—everyone knows they’ve already changed. They’ve become places for the wealthy and powerful of those secular dynasties to spend money and have fun. No wonder they’re called brothels and theaters under the rule of immortals—a complete mess.”
Chen Songfeng smiled. “You can’t generalize. Not to mention us outsiders, but among the locals, there are no lack of brilliant talents.”
Liu Baqiao rolled his eyes. “A blessed land with so many people—how many manage to stand out each year? Maybe not even one. Of those who successfully come here, in a hundred years, how many do we remember by name? A handful at most. So I don’t understand why these blessed lands are so highly regarded. Some even claim that owning partial jurisdiction over a blessed land brings no less benefit than having an upper five realm cultivator. Are they crazy?”
Chen Songfeng laughed. “Blessed land income is steady and long-lasting. Occasionally, a surprise or two pops up. The best part is that all the benefits come without effort—who wouldn’t want a piece of that?”
Those who left a cave heaven were mostly lucky. Those who ascended from a blessed land were especially tough.
Liu Baqiao asked, “You don’t seem to like that young man surnamed Chen?”
Chen Songfeng thought for a moment and chose to be frank. “Personally, I have no objection to the boy. But objectively speaking, his existence actually embarrasses our entire clan. The Chen clan in Li Zhu Small Cave Heaven has always been a joke on this continent. Within the town, a surname with a considerable population was reduced to a single person, the rest becoming slaves of other families. It’s natural that it became a laughingstock. In the eyes of the Chen clan of Longwei Commandery, our branch and the Chen surname in the town share a distant ancestor, but that’s ancient history. There’s no real connection. However, the opponents of the Longwei Chen clan don’t see it that way. In that situation, if the boy from Niping Alley had simply become a servant of a wealthy family, it would have been fine—a big laugh at the time, but hard to sustain as gossip for years. But this boy’s stubborn persistence, his solitary existence, makes him especially conspicuous. Many outsiders are even betting on when the one remaining Chen descendant of this branch in the town will cease to be that ‘only one.’”
Liu Baqiao frowned. “That’s not the boy’s fault.”
Chen Songfeng smiled. “Of course, the boy is blameless. But in this world, some things are hard to reason about.”
Liu Baqiao shook his head. “It’s not that the reasoning is hard to explain. In fact, you’re the ones who are unreasonable. It’s just that the boy is too weak, so you can appear justified. And because the Longwei Chen clan is much more powerful than the boy, but compared to those who are laughing at you, you’re still mediocre, your situation becomes even more awkward. In the end, unwilling to admit your own incompetence, you shift the blame and convince yourselves that the boy is the culprit. I believe that if this Li Zhu Cave Heaven weren’t so hard to enter, the humble alley boy who embarrasses the Longwei Chen clan would have long been quietly disposed of by some Chen descendant or a member of a vassal family seeking merit.”
Chen Songfeng’s face flushed red, and for a moment he was nearly furious.
Liu Baqiao, hands behind his head, looked up at the sky, still wearing a leisurely, lazy expression. “I know you, Chen Songfeng, aren’t that kind of person. But unfortunately, people like you are few, and those unlike you are many.”
“Take that Moving Mountain Ape from Zhengyang Mountain. It couldn’t get the sword scripture and feared our Wind and Thunder Garden would, so it wanted to punch that Liu boy to death. Do you think that’s reasonable? I don’t. But does it matter? No, I don’t even dare to provoke that old ape directly.”
Liu Baqiao sighed, let go of one hand, patted his stomach, and said self-deprecatingly, “As for me, I have a clumsy mouth, my fists aren’t hard enough, and my sword isn’t fast enough. Otherwise, I’ve got a bellyful of reasons that I’d like to argue with this world.”
Chen Songfeng exhaled. “So you think that boy is good?”
Liu Baqiao turned to look at the high mountains in the west where the sun was setting. “Think he’s good? No way.”
Chen Songfeng was puzzled.
Liu Baqiao smiled. “The moment I saw that boy, I felt ashamed of myself.”
Chen Songfeng found it hard to believe and shook his head with a smile. “No need to go that far?”
Liu Baqiao swallowed some words that were on the tip of his tongue, to avoid hurting their friendship. Chen Songfeng, though not exactly his cup of tea, was still much better than the average scholar. He should be content.
And so the chatterbox Liu Baqiao remained silent all the way.
— —
The night was deep. Chen Ping’an made three torches himself, and the three of them walked by torchlight.
Finally, they arrived at the foot of a high mountain. Chen Ping’an wiped the sweat from his forehead and said to Ning Yao, “Miss Ning, tell her that this is a mountain forbidden by the imperial court. Does she have any taboos about it?”
Ning Yao relayed this to Chen Dui, who shook her head.
Chen Dui looked up. She was certain that the ancestral grave of the Yingyin Chen clan was definitely here.
A wanderer returning home, sensing it in her heart.
Chen Dui slowly closed her eyes. After a moment, she crouched down and wrote a long string of characters on the ground with her finger. After writing, she moved her lips slightly. Finally, she smoothed away all traces with her palm. Standing up, she walked around the spot where the runes had been erased and took the lead up the mountain, not even needing Chen Ping’an to guide her.
The three reached a spot halfway up the mountain. Chen Ping’an pointed not far away, to a small mound where a tree grew. Its trunk was oddly straight, straighter than a bamboo. Chen Ping’an sighed with relief and nodded. “This is it.”
Chen Dui said gravely, “You two go wait for me at the foot of the mountain.”
Ning Yao tugged at Chen Ping’an’s sleeve, signaling him to go down together.
Chen Dui set down her book box, took out the carefully prepared offerings one by one, for worshiping the gods and ancestors.
Midway, Chen Dui had a momentary daze, staring raptly at the small tree. Tears streamed down her face, joyful tears. She murmured, “Just as I thought, just as I thought.”
Finally, the woman prostrated herself before the small mound with the utmost reverence, performing the three kneels and nine bows ritual.
Afterward, Chen Dui lay prostrate, trembling, and said, “The Yingyin Chen clan kowtows in gratitude for the ancestor’s protection!”
At the foot of the mountain, Chen Ping’an and Ning Yao sat on opposite sides of a large basket, back to back. Ning Yao asked, “Earlier on the way, why did you deliberately take a detour?”
Chen Ping’an was startled, then said in amazement, “Miss Ning, even you noticed?”
Ning Yao held her sword scabbard and pushed it back, the tip of the scabbard hitting the boy’s lower back. “Drop the ‘even’!”
The straw-sandal boy winced, gently rubbing his back, and lowered his voice. “Didn’t I tell you? There’s a huge cliff face covered with those black stones you call Dragon-Slaying Platforms. I was afraid she’d see them and recognize their value. If she got ideas, what then? ‘One must not have the heart to harm others, but one must have the heart to guard against them’—I understand that principle.”
Ning Yao smiled. “You miser, you’re just worried she’d find a way to move them and leave you empty-handed.”
Chen Ping’an chuckled foolishly. “Miss Ning, you’re so blunt. You must not have many friends, right?”
Ouch.
Suddenly in pain again, Chen Ping’an quickly freed a hand to rub the other side of his back.
Chen Ping’an lightly nudged Ning Yao’s back with his elbow and asked, “Want some wild fruit? I picked three on the way and hid them in my sleeve pocket. She probably didn’t see.”
Ning Yao said dismissively, “Wild fruit this time of year—can it be any good?”
Chen Ping’an turned around and handed her two vermilion wild fruits the size of peaches, smiling. “Miss Ning, you wouldn’t know. This fruit only ripens in spring. It sets fruit at the end of winter and ripens in early spring. Right now it’s fully ripe. One bite—the taste is so good you might bite your tongue. Strangest thing is, among all these mountains, this fruit only grows around here. I learned about it from Old Yao when I was looking for a type of clay. Other places have some tasty wild fruits too, but after trying east and west, I think none compare to these.”
Ning Yao took the two fruits, resolved that if they tasted bad, she’d return the remaining one. “Trying east and west—are you a wild boar in the mountains?”
Chen Ping’an bit into the wild fruit and laughed. “When I was little, my family was poor. I ate whatever I could get my hands on. And you know, once I really did eat something bad and got a terrible stomachache. I rolled around in the alley in agony. That was the first time I heard my own heartbeat—it sounded like thunder and drumming.”
But Ning Yao was busy eating the fruit and didn’t catch the last part. The first bite felt extraordinary—the fruit was sweet and delicious. After swallowing the flesh, her whole body felt warm, like a house with underfloor heating, the fruit like bags of charcoal. Ning Yao closed her eyes and felt her internal organs. Though comfortable, there was nothing else unusual. This meant the wild fruit was roughly on the level of mountain produce beneath the feet of immortals—able to fetch a high price in secular dynasties, but not enough to make cultivators envious.
For ordinary mortals, it was undoubtedly a supreme tonic for prolonging life.
If she had known, she wouldn’t have taken the fruit.
Ning Yao felt a bit regretful. She wiped her mouth, turned, and handed back the remaining fruit. “Not tasty. Take it back.”
Chen Ping’an dejectedly took it back, a little disappointed. He had thought Miss Ning would like it.
Ning Yao gently kicked the basket with her feet and asked casually, “Are you saving it for that woman named Chen Dui?”
Chen Ping’an shook his head. “Give it to her? We’re not related. Of course, it’s for Liu Xianyang.”
Ning Yao suddenly asked with curiosity, “If Ruan Xiu were here, would you give it to Ruan Xiu instead of Chen Dui?”
Chen Ping’an nodded. “Of course.”
Ning Yao asked again, “If you only had two wild fruits, would you give them to me or to Ruan Xiu?”
Chen Ping’an answered without hesitation, “One for you, one for Ruan Xiu. I’ll be fine watching you two eat.”
Chen Ping’an was attacked again and rubbed his back, looking innocent. “Miss Ning, what are you doing?”
Ning Yao asked once more, “If there’s only one?”
Chen Ping’an chuckled. “I’d give it to you.”
Ning Yao: “Why?”
Chen Ping’an replied with both cunning and honesty, “Miss Ruan isn’t here, but Miss Ning is.”
The boy’s lower back was instantly hit twice heavily. Chen Ping’an yelped in pain and quickly stood up, hopping around. This caused Ning Yao to fall backward into the large basket.
Chen Ping’an hastily pulled her out.
Ning Yao wasn’t really angry, just glared fiercely at Chen Ping’an.
Chen Ping’an straightened the basket, and they sat back to back again.
Ning Yao asked, “Do you know what kind of tree that is?”
Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve only seen it in this place. It doesn’t seem to grow on other mountains.”
Ning Yao said solemnly, “Legend has it that if a Chinese scholar tree grows on a family’s ancestral tomb, it is an auspicious sign that a Confucian sage is about to be born. Moreover, that sage will be extremely upright and filled with righteous energy. So in your world, he would certainly receive extraordinary favor.”
Chen Ping’an said, “Oh.”
Confucian sages, auspicious signs, righteous energy—the straw-sandal boy didn’t understand any of it.
Ning Yao asked, “Aren’t you envious of that woman on the mountain? Haven’t you wondered why this Chinese scholar tree didn’t grow on your own ancestors’ graves?”
Chen Ping’an answered evasively, happily, “This Qingming Festival, I can still visit my parents’ graves. That’s really good.”
Ning Yao suddenly stood up, and this time Chen Ping’an fell backward into the basket.
Ning Yao laughed heartily, holding her stomach.
— —
The town’s study hall now had only five young children. Their backgrounds varied, as did their ages. Among them was a little girl in a bright red cotton-padded jacket. Though she came from Fulu Street, she never bullied anyone at school. But she didn’t like joining the crowd either, always preferring to wander around on her own. Li Huai, the son of Li Er from the westernmost house in town, also studied at this village school. His parents and sister had left the town, leaving him behind. Far from crying, Li Huai was overjoyed—finally free from supervision. But at night, the boy, staying at his uncle’s house, would have nightmares, wake up screaming heartbreakingly, only to be subdued by his awakened uncle and aunt—one wielding a feather duster, the other a broom.
The other three came from Taoye Lane, Qilong Lane, and Xinghua Lane respectively—two boys and one girl.
After class, Mr. Qi gave each of them a scroll of calligraphy, telling them to keep it safe and copy it carefully. He said he would check their homework in three days.
It was the character “Qi.”
After the village school dismissed, the elderly sweeping man, who was extremely aged, bathed and changed clothes, then came to the outside of Mr. Qi’s study and sat cross-legged on the ground.
The old man began by asking a classic Confucian question about the “Spring King’s First Month.”
Qi Jingchun smiled knowingly and explained it, elucidating what “Spring” meant, what “King” meant, what “First” and “Month” meant.
This was the unique “holding the scriptures and asking difficult questions” practice of Confucian academies. In class, there would be a “questioner” who posed queries to the lecturer, ranging from one question to several, ten, or even a hundred.
This question-and-answer session occurred at the first meeting between Mr. Qi and the old man.
That was an old affair from eighty years ago.
At the time, however, Qi Jingchun had been the questioner, and the respondent had been their shared teacher.
After the old man finished all his questions, he looked at Qi Jingchun. “Do you still remember the parting words our teacher gave us before we went to Cliffside Academy?”
Qi Jingchun smiled without speaking.
The old man answered his own question. “To me, he said, ‘Heaven and earth give birth to the gentleman, and the gentleman regulates heaven and earth.’ To you, he said, ‘Learning should never cease. Blue is extracted from indigo, but it is bluer than indigo.’”
The old man suddenly became agitated. “How highly our teacher regarded you! He hoped you would surpass him! Why must you hit your head against the wall here? Why would you give up a century of cultivation and a thousand-year path for a small town of five or six thousand people?! If you were an ordinary scholar, that would be one thing. But you are Qi Jingchun, the most valued disciple of our teacher! A scholar who has the potential to break new ground, even to establish a school and be called a patriarch!”
The old man trembled. “I know—it’s Buddhism misleading you! What is this ‘equality of all beings’? Have you forgotten what our teacher said about distinguishing nobility and baseness…”
Qi Jingchun shook his head with a smile. “Teacher is indeed a teacher, his knowledge is vast, but his principles are not necessarily all correct.”
The old man was stunned beyond words, utterly bewildered. Then he roared, “Propriety is what corrects the body!”
Qi Jingchun replied with a smile, “The gentleman bends when it is time to bend, and stretches when it is time to stretch.”
Seemingly unrelated and far off, but upon hearing it, the old man’s expression changed drastically, filled with doubt and shock.
Qi Jingchun sighed, looked at this fellow disciple who had followed him here for sixty years, and said seriously, “Things have come to this. Those children—I entrust them to you to take to Cliffside Academy.”
The old man nodded, his expression complicated, and left.
Qi Jingchun murmured to himself, “Teacher, is there truly an unchanging truth in this world?”
— —
Two carriages set out from Fulu Street long before dawn, leaving the town early.
At daybreak, a straw-sandal boy carrying two large cloth bags set off to wait outside the Kiln Affairs Supervisory Office.
One bag held pouches of gold essence coins; the other held what he considered most valuable: snake gall stones.
But by the time it was fully light, and the office doorman came out with a broom to sweep the street, the boy still hadn’t seen the departing carriage.
He had to steel himself to ask the doorman when the group of guests named Chen Dui from the office would leave from Fulu Street.
The doorman smiled and said they had already left the town long ago.
The straw-sandal boy was dumbfounded. Hadn’t Liu Xianyang agreed to set off only after dawn?
At that moment, the boy’s vision blurred.
After thanking the doorman, the boy turned and started running.
He ran out of town, covering nearly sixty li in one breath. Finally, along a slope, exhausted, he reached the top and looked at the winding road stretching into the distance.
The boy crouched at the top of the hill. Beside his feet lay the copper coins and stones he hadn’t been able to give away.
A girl wearing a sword and a waist blade sat down silently beside him, panting and angry. “Aren’t you a miser obsessed with money? Why are you being so generous? Giving away all your belongings? Even if Liu Xianyang is your friend, this is too much!”
The boy just held his head and stared into the distance.