Chapter 1036: Respective Cultivations
Two figures drifted silently down from the sea of clouds, landing on a mountain ridge beside a river that resembled a fine eyebrow. One was a young boy in green clothes with his hands clasped behind his back, the other a figure in a yellow hat and green shoes, leaning on a green bamboo staff.
Chen Lingjun, looking worried and anxious, asked, "Little Mo, Little Mo, what do we make of this?"
It turned out that earlier over at Luopo Mountain, everything had been fine. Everyone had gathered in Old Chef's courtyard, listening to Big Wind Brother spinning his tales.
Then Little Mo suddenly said that something had happened over at the school—it seemed the young gentleman's aura had abruptly vanished.
Logically, this was an absolutely impossible occurrence. Although Chen Ping'an had deliberately suppressed his aura and fist intent over there, making him indistinguishable from an ordinary person, as a Martial End Realm practitioner, even in a state of deep sleep, he should have been in a mysterious realm akin to divine protection. How could he simply vanish without a trace? Moreover, everyone at Luopo Mountain knew that the mountain lord was serving as a teacher at this school; under normal circumstances, he wouldn't reveal his identity.
So Little Mo had come to check things out, and Chen Lingjun had followed along to see what was happening.
Little Mo smiled. "It's nothing. Daoist Lu accompanied the young gentleman on a visit to the Dragon Palace ruins."
Upon hearing it was that Lu Zhangjiao of the Jade Capital, Chen Lingjun breathed a sigh of relief but couldn't help feeling a headache coming on.
If he had a choice, Chen Lingjun sincerely never wanted to see that "Lu Third" again, the one who "needed to find a doctor quickly to check if his brain was diseased."
When it came to unwavering loyalty to their master, Chen Lingjun believed that across the entire Luopo Mountain, only Little Mo could rival him.
So hearing Little Mo personally say there was nothing wrong, Chen Lingjun felt reassured. The logic was simple: if Little Mo said something was a small matter, it might not necessarily be a small matter to Chen Lingjun, who had yet to reach the Upper Five Realms. But if Little Mo said there was nothing wrong, then there definitely wasn't.
Of course, compared to himself, Little Mo was still a bit junior, having arrived at the mountain only a year or two later.
Seeing the young gentleman and Daoist Lu returning to the rural path from afar, Little Mo prepared to quietly head back to Luopo Mountain. Since he rarely got a chance to go out, Chen Lingjun didn't plan on returning to Luopo Mountain so quickly. He told Little Mo to go back first; after all, he, Chen Lingjun, was here to keep things in check. He doubted that even if Lu Chen were brazen enough, he'd dare stir up any trouble.
Little Mo thought for a moment, then returned to Luopo Mountain alone, simply telling Chen Lingjun to be careful and to let him know if anything came up.
If anyone else had said such nonsense, Chen Lingjun would certainly have taken offense and argued back. Careful? Careful about what? In this territory of the Northern Marchmount, who would dare provoke Chen the Elder, who was only less famous because of his cultivation of the mind and nature? Did they think his Nascent Soul cultivation was just for show? Don't underestimate a Nascent Soul immortal! But since it was Little Mo speaking, Chen Lingjun let it slide.
On the mountain, Chen Lingjun seemed busy every day, but no one really knew what he was busy with. Maybe even the young boy in green didn't know himself?
Once Little Mo left, Chen Lingjun shook his sleeves and ambled down the mountain.
Because he had an agreement with his master, Chen Lingjun didn't plan on approaching the school or the Dragon Palace ruins. After descending the mountain, he wandered aimlessly. About half an hour later, he came to a stone bridge. By the riverbank stood a plum tree several hundred years old. Chen Lingjun spotted a stranger accompanied by a servant boy carrying a qin and leading a donkey.
Appreciating plum blossoms by the moonlit stream—how elegant. But Chen Lingjun observed his breathing; it seemed he was a Qi refiner, not merely a literatus or elegant guest. As for his realm, Chen Lingjun couldn't tell, so he decided to take a detour.
Unexpectedly, the man, dressed like a scholar, turned and smiled. "What a pleasant surprise. I never thought I'd encounter a Daoist fellow cultivating longevity in such a remote countryside. May I ask your Daoist name?"
Chen Lingjun didn't turn around. He just raised a hand behind his back, waving it dismissively at the man who had initiated the conversation. "Not familiar, so don't try to get chummy. We each go our own way."
The servant boy, who looked like a young lad carrying a qin case, sent a voice transmission: "Master, he is..."
Before the boy could finish, he found his master shooting him a glare, a look so fierce it made the "boy" tremble in fear, not daring to continue even with voice transmission.
Who he was—did he need you to introduce him?
The Confucian scholar was inwardly furious, his anger blazing. Between peak mountain cultivators, what did a seemingly concealed voice transmission amount to?!
An ignorant fool! Had his thousand years of cultivation on Green Palace Mountain all been for nothing?
The "Confucian scholar" immediately regretted bringing this proud disciple along to pay respects to the senior from the mountain.
He was none other than the foremost cultivator of Flowing Xia Continent, known by the Daoist name "Green Palace Grand Protector," Jing Hao.
Earlier, after offering congratulations to Yu Xuan, who had successfully merged with the Dao beyond the heavens, he had encountered the Literary Sage. Jing Hao then decided to come here for a visit. Enemies were better reconciled than harbored grudges, and it was never too early to mend the fold after the sheep are lost.
As a grand Flying Ascension Realm cultivator, after returning from beyond the heavens to the Haoran World and arriving at Treasure Bottle Continent, Jing Hao didn't dare rush straight to Huaihuang County Town, nor did he dare visit Luopo Mountain without an invitation.
As for this disciple, who had preserved his youthful appearance through cultivation and was at the Jade Purity Realm, he was originally one of the candidates for the next sect leader. Recently, he had been tasked with secretly gathering intelligence in the Great Li Dynasty about the "Little Dragon King of Luopo Mountain." Now it seemed he was not only ineffective in his duties but also had flawed cultivation—a useless waste beyond redemption.
Jing Hao thought it over. Great riches come with great risks. Taking a certain risk, he left his disciple where he was and quickened his pace to catch up with the young boy in green.
For some reason, no matter how he looked at it, this Chen Lingjun, whom Immortal Lord Chen treated like a brother, appeared to be nothing more than a Nascent Soul water dragon.
Chen Lingjun stopped and turned around, his outward composure hiding inner unease.
Damn it all. Could it be that on this rare outing, he'd be inexplicably punched to death?
No matter. As long as he could withstand two punches, Little Mo would surely arrive in time. Besides, his master was nearby, and this was also Wei Shanjun's territory. After thinking it over, Chen Lingjun couldn't find any reason to feel timid. In an instant, he regained his calm, shook his sleeves, clasped his hands behind his back, and prepared to see what this fellow was up to.
Jing Hao cupped his fists and smiled. "Fellow Daoist, I'm an outsider from a place called Multitudinous Peak Mountain. It's a small, obscure sect you might not have heard of. This is my first time traveling through the Great Li's rivers and mountains. A pleasure to meet you."
Chen Lingjun shook his clasped fists a few times and replied politely, "Likewise."
Jing Hao asked with a smile, "Are you also out enjoying the scenery of the Fine Eyebrow River area? Or are you an... independent immortal, unbound by worldly or sectarian constraints?"
"Independent immortal" certainly sounded better than "wild hermit of the marshes."
Multitudinous Peak Mountain was a detached territory under Green Palace Mountain and could be considered a second-rate sect with some heritage in Flowing Xia Continent. Outside of Flowing Xia, it indeed had little reputation.
When Chen Lingjun heard "Multitudinous Peak Mountain," he indeed looked completely baffled, with no ripple in his aura—not an act.
Chen Lingjun chuckled. "Multitudinous Peak Mountain, huh? Heard of it, a place in the southern part of the continent. A geomantic treasure land that produces talented people."
In his own territory of the Northern Marchmount, Chen Lingjun knew every mountain and sect like the back of his hand. But when it came to the mountain immortal palaces in the southern part of Treasure Bottle Continent, he was completely lost, and he wasn't all that interested anyway.
No matter how experienced Jing Hao was, he found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
The "boy" listening intently by the plum tree by the bridge was even more speechless. Could you lie through your teeth any more blatantly?
Because Jing Hao couldn't pinpoint the other's "true identity and realm," he had to weigh every word carefully, preparing his thoughts before speaking.
But as they chatted, he discovered that this young boy in green, who had only appeared at Imperial River and Luopo Mountain, was an excellent conversationalist.
So Jing Hao had no choice but to follow the other's tone and topics, sliding along like a watermelon rind wherever it went. He said that he himself had once been a scholar, but having been frustrated in his ambitions, he stumbled into mountain cultivation and had gained some insights. Now his state of mind was likely similar to that of his fellow Daoist. He said that we who cultivate the Dao, dining on clouds and drinking dew, should naturally be pure and have few desires, unmoved by worldly sounds, colors, glory, or disgrace, and unswayed by kings and nobles. If we descend the mountain to engage with the world, we can awe nations and benefit the people. But if the Dao does not prevail, we take a raft and drift away, floating across the four seas, our words unheard, our situation not suiting our hearts—we simply leave, discarding it all like worn-out sandals. What does it matter if we have nothing externally? In the rolling red dust, the wealthy cannot bear to part with their riches and honors; should the poor fear losing their poverty? There is certainly no such principle.
Chen Lingjun couldn't get a word in edgewise and just nodded, "Mm-hmm, mm-hmm."
Too literary and pretentious. Must have eaten too much pickled cabbage during the day.
Losing the battle but not the war, finally when the other paused for breath, Chen Lingjun nodded. "Fellow Daoist, your words do show some learning and insight. But they're a bit vague and lack connection to the earthy reality of the wilds."
Jing Hao had already determined that this fellow beside him was truly only a Nascent Soul cultivator... and had definitely not read many books.
As they walked and talked, after about two li, Jing Hao suddenly glanced sideways. Oh, here came a slightly higher realm... a dragon offspring? Hmm, and a swordsman?
Moonlight leaked through the forest, making the ground look like snow, clearly revealing the figures.
A young cultivator in white robes stood in the forest, watching Jing Hao and Chen Lingjun from afar.
Chen Lingjun was slow to notice, then turned to look at the stern-faced white-clad youth in the mountains.
Why did he keep running into people who liked wearing white when they went out? Ever since that scholarly nephew had come to Luopo Mountain—first the big white goose, then Junior Nephew Zheng—Chen Lingjun now felt a deep dread of people in white.
Fortunately, at that moment, Little Mo's warm, mellow voice reached Chen Lingjun's heart lake. "As soon as he spoke that first sentence by the bridge, I came over. I can roughly confirm that this person's realm is not low; he's most likely a Flying Ascension cultivator from another continent."
"But it's nothing. If he harbors ill intentions, I'll drag him to Luopo Mountain for a few days as a guest."
"As for that swordsman born from a spirit in the mountains, he came out of the Dragon Palace ruins. His realm and swordsmanship are negligible."
Little Mo was wonderful.
Chen Lingjun instantly straightened his back, filled with courage!
Apart from the young boy in green, and of course the unfathomable Luopo Mountain, Jing Hao, the Green Palace Grand Protector, didn't think there were many beings in Treasure Bottle Continent who could make him cautious. Even Wei Bo of Cloaked Cloud Mountain was just so-so.
So without turning around, Jing Hao turned his head and smiled. "I don't care why you took a detour or chose to appear here and now, nor do I ask what you seek. Just say it plainly: if you intend to come close to Fellow Daoist Chen and me to curry favor, forget it. We're not on the same path."
The former dragon offspring, long trapped in the Dragon Palace detached villa, had somehow found that the prohibitions of his dojo had vanished into thin air. Hesitantly and fearfully emerging from the deep pool, he suffered no backlash from any techniques. After seeing the light of day again, he was first covered in tears, then sensed some ant-like cultivators in his Dragon Palace. Recalling those two unfathomable Qi refiners from earlier, he forcefully suppressed his urge to attack. Better to avoid trouble than to invite it. The matter of Dragon Palace ownership was a minor issue compared to his own Great Dao. Gathering his courage, he secretly left the ruins while simultaneously employing the dual divine abilities of "Observing Rivers and Mountains" and "Innate Water Art." In an instant, he saw Cloaked Cloud Mountain, which wasn't in his memory. He originally planned to head straight for the nearby Luopo Mountain, but caution being the mother of survival, he dismissed that idea. Then he noticed, right under his nose, by the plum tree near the bridge, three Qi refiners. The Confucian scholar especially had an unfathomable realm.
The other young boy in green and the "youth" carrying a qin and leading a donkey were also not to be underestimated—one Nascent Soul, one Jade Purity.
Could it be that what those two had said earlier wasn't a lie? After three thousand years, was it truly the case that any Qi refiner you met on the road was at least a Land Immortal?
He had just barely regained some confidence as an Upper Five Realm swordsman from those ant-like cultivators inside the Dragon Palace, but that confidence was now gone.
Suppressing his discomfort, he bowed with clasped hands. "My surname is Bai, given name Deng, Daoist name 'Restless Master.'"
Jing Hao squinted and smiled approvingly. "Excellent Daoist name. 'Stillness governs restlessness.' Especially fitting for a fellow with your background and origins. The name 'Restless Master' is most suitable."
Suddenly, a young Daoist wearing a lotus crown appeared behind Chen Lingjun. He rested his crossed arms atop the young boy's head and exclaimed with exaggerated amazement, "Wow, isn't this the top seat of Flowing Xia Continent, Grand Immortal Master Jing Hao? What brings you to Treasure Bottle Continent? Quite the leisurely taste, I must say."
Jing Hao was thunderstruck, standing speechless.
This Chen Lingjun, besides being on brotherly terms with Immortal Lord Chen, was also this familiar with the Jade Capital's Lu Zhangjiao?!
Chen Lingjun felt deeply wronged. He wiped his face with his hand. Talking was one thing, but spraying spittle everywhere was another.
Then Lu Chen waved toward the mountaintop. "Mister Little Mo."
Little Mo smiled and nodded, coming to stand beside Chen Lingjun and Lu Chen.
Jing Hao was dumbfounded. It was one thing that he hadn't sensed Lu Zhangjiao's aura, but how was there another hidden master so close by?!
At that moment, Bai Deng felt it would be better to just return to his dojo and stay put. The outside world was exceedingly dangerous.
Knowing Little Mo was nearby was one thing; seeing Little Mo standing right beside him was another.
Chen Lingjun patted Lu Chen's hand and warned, "Hey, hey, let go already!"
Lu Chen was unmoved. He laughed. "You don't know, do you? I've known Mister Little Mo much longer. We have a great relationship."
Little Mo smiled faintly and gave a slight nod, as if to confirm Daoist Lu's claim. But at the same time, he gave Chen Lingjun a look to reassure him.
Chen Lingjun crossed his arms. "I can't be bothered to argue with you."
Lu Chen turned his head again toward the mountaintop, stretched out his arm, and waved vigorously. "It's Miss Xie, right? Over here, over here! You and Mister Little Mo are a match made in heaven. I must drink at your wedding next time!"
On the mountaintop, a girl wearing a sable hat stood on a tree branch, grinning broadly. "Still a matter that hasn't even taken shape yet."
Lu Chen imitated the old scholar's sigh. "Miss Xie, don't talk nonsense! It's clearly already taken shape."
Just the first stroke of the character "eight" — a one-sided longing.
Xie Dog, having suffered the disadvantage of being less educated, didn't catch Lu Zhangjiao's double meaning. She beamed, thinking his words were well spoken. She nodded at Lu Chen, then shifted her gaze to Little Mo, her tone soft. "I'll head back first. I'll wait for you for supper, okay?"
Old Zhu had said that outside, she should give her man some face. When they got home behind closed doors, she could do whatever she wanted.
Lu Chen suppressed a laugh. "Mister Little Mo, you're a fortunate man."
Little Mo sighed helplessly. "It's alright."
Lu Chen patted the young boy's head and teased, "Brother Chen, this Jing Hao, the Green Palace Grand Protector, you recognize him?"
Chen Lingjun still had his arms crossed. Do you take me for a fool? Of course I recognize such a famous old immortal. It's just the kind of recognition where I know him, but he doesn't know me.
Bai Xuan, who drank goji berry tea every day despite his youth, had compiled a "Hero Register." Chen Lingjun hadn't been idle either; he had secretly written a booklet he named "The Anthology of Passersby."
He had listed all those peak figures whom it was best to pass by without ever truly knowing, compiling this essential survival manual for future travels.
Among them was the Green Palace Grand Protector of Flowing Xia Continent, Jing Hao, Old Immortal Jing. According to some landscape gazetteers' records of mountain legends, he knew many techniques, was the top figure of a continent, and moved freely in both righteous and unorthodox circles.
He never imagined that this fellow pretending to be a scholar was actually that distant, unattainable Jing Hao. It seemed tonight's encounter was indeed a chance meeting.
Chen Lingjun felt relieved. He had chatted a bunch of nonsense with Old Immortal Jing and managed to put a familiar face to the name. If he ever traveled to Flowing Xia Continent in the future, wouldn't that give him another talisman of protection?
At least the cultivators of Green Palace Mountain, out of this incidental karma, would have to show him some respect, right? They couldn't act like those cultivators of the Thunder God Residence in North Julu Continent, could they? Forget it. Even if he ran into Qi refiners from Green Palace Mountain on the road, it was better to pretend not to know them. Ideally, he'd avoid meeting them altogether. Otherwise, if trouble arose, they might think he was bragging without a draft, and it would only cause more complications.
Who knew what Jing Hao was thinking at that moment? As for the "youth" at the Jade Purity Realm standing dully under the plum tree, he was completely stunned.
That young Daoist wearing a lotus crown spoke of his master with such casual disdain?
On this tiny patch of ground, how had so many towering figures suddenly appeared? The Jade Capital's Lu Zhangjiao? Who was Mister Little Mo? And who was Miss Xie of the sable hat?
Lu Chen said gleefully, "Brother Chen, when you pass through Flowing Xia Continent in the future, you'll have to make a special trip to Green Palace Mountain and have a few more drinks with Old Immortal Jing at the table, right?"
Chen Lingjun forced a smile. "Of course, of course."
Jing Hao was even more unsettled, his mind in turmoil. He subconsciously said, "Must, must."
Both parties were awkward, and both could see the awkwardness in the other's tone and expression.
And the key was, neither knew what the other was awkward about.
Lu Chen said with a sly grin, "Like old friends at first sight. That's what they call it."
Over at the Fine Eyebrow River Water Mansion, urgent military intelligence was again reported to the river god. Gao Niang, who had just enjoyed a hearty drink at the village school, quickly went to the river to investigate.
Sure enough, another empty wine jug was floating on the surface. The water mansion officials and the crowd of shrimp soldiers and crab generals, having learned from their previous experience with such treasures, were now wise enough not to touch the jug.
But when the river god carefully picked it up and gently shook it a few times, Gao Niang was baffled. It seemed different from the previous jug—no mysteries about it.
The water mansion's subordinate officers didn't care about that. They threw up their arms and cheered. Their water god had obtained a precious treasure twice in one day. If that wasn't a divine manifestation, what was?!
Gao Niang remained expressionless, pocketing the wine jug, then gently raised a hand to press down, signaling his fierce subordinates to calm down and be discreet.
Over at Luopo Mountain's Sword Worshipping Platform, the white-haired boy, unable to sleep during the long night, was there trying to build connections with Alliance Leader Guo.
As Luopo Mountain's first official compiler of registers, the white-haired boy was now full of fighting spirit. He thought that if he could join forces with Xie Dog and with Alliance Leader Guo, they could establish their own faction within Luopo Mountain. How wonderful.
A girl sat on a tree branch with the white-haired boy, both swinging their legs lazily. Before coming here, they hadn't shortchanged themselves. Together, they had thrown together two clay pots of cross-bridge rice noodles in the kitchen.
Guo Zhujiu, burping, was imparting her unique worldly wisdom to the white-haired boy.
On the branches beside them sat two empty small clay pots. The taste was indeed mediocre—not the fault of the ingredients, but their cooking skills. At any rate, they couldn't blame each other.
"When traveling the world, don't panic when encountering trouble."
The white-haired boy nodded vigorously while secretly rolling his eyes.
But Guo Zhujiu's next words struck a chord with him: "You should run away quickly."
The white-haired boy's eyes lit up. He clapped energetically and cheered loudly, not forgetting to continue urging Guo Zhujiu to join his grand cause. "Alliance Leader Guo, you know, I have a thousand good points and ten thousand good points, but one thing truly stands out: I never toady or flatter. I really hit it off with you, Alliance Leader Guo. It's a shame you're not our alliance leader."
Guo Zhujiu asked suspiciously, "Do you have a personal grudge with Senior Sister Pei?"
The white-haired boy shook his head. "Heaven and earth be my witness, absolutely not!"
Guo Zhujiu was silent for a moment, then asked, "You pretend to be happy like this every day. Will you one day actually become happy?"
The white-haired boy's expression darkened. He twitched the corner of his mouth.
Life's paths branching north and south, events fading like spring dreams without a trace. In those days, I sought marquisate across ten thousand li, but a hundred uses of a scholar are none.
The white-haired boy clasped his hands behind his head, melancholic. Truly melancholic.
Guo Zhujiu reached out, pressed down on the white-haired boy's head, and nodded it for him. "What are you thinking? It's a certainty!"
---
In Luopo Mountain, inside a modest courtyard home, it was late but many people were still gathered. Everyone appeared very relaxed.
The private residence of Chief Zhou Fei on the mountain was as extravagant as possible: white jade paving the floor, celestial mists drifting—it practically made people afraid to step inside once they crossed the threshold.
But here, the steps and courtyard were nothing but a flat, tamped-down patch of yellow earth.
Years ago, a female cultivator from Tongye Continent who was as famous as Jiang Shangzhen had once visited as a guest. She had developed a particular fondness for this courtyard.
Jiang Shangzhen had racked his brains over this but remained utterly perplexed. That Huang Ting was definitely no pushover; she was extremely proud.
Zhu Lian hadn't hidden anything, simply saying he had given her a hand-copied Daoist scripture, and Miss Huang had sat here reading it for a while.
That was the old chef's hospitality, nothing more.
At the time, Chief Zhou had stood under the eaves, looking at the courtyard outside the steps, and quickly understood the key. He was greatly impressed.
A Daoist scripture, a rattan chair, Huang Ting contemplating "Huang Ting" under the moonlight.
Tonight, a large group had gathered to chat, mainly to hear Zheng Dafeng tell interesting stories from the Five Colors World.
Zheng Dafeng's wit seemed like a gift. Whatever he talked about became amusing, drawing knowing smiles from his listeners.
With the old chef's echoing support, the same story became even more interesting.
Among the audience earlier had been the Daoist Xian Wei, Chen Lingjun, the martial artist Zhong Qian, the women Xie Dog, the fox country's ruler Pei Xiang, and Gao Jun, the current sect leader of Lake Mountain Sect.
Chen Ping'an had previously visited Lake Mountain Sect and brought Gao Jun away from the Lotus Root Paradise. She had originally planned to return home quickly, so she had only gone to Cloaked Cloud Mountain with Wei Shanjun. She wanted to learn more about the customs of this Haoran World. Then she discovered the "Mirror Flowers, Water Moon" and "Landscape Gazettes," and she couldn't bear to leave Luopo Mountain anymore, continually postponing her scheduled departure.
But by now, Zheng Dafeng had already left, going down the mountain with Xian Wei.
Little Mo had taken Chen Lingjun to the Fine Eyebrow River area, and then Xie Dog had sneaked over as well. She had only asked Old Zhu to prepare a late-night supper for when she and Little Mo returned, so there was no rush to cook.
Zhu Lian agreed with a smile. Since he had nothing to do and Pei Xiang had taken the lead in urging, Zhu Lian lay back in his rattan chair and, following her topic, casually said some things to pass the time.
"Cultivation has never been only about matters on the mountain; it has always been about matters right beside us."
"The union of a man and a woman as husband and wife is karma, merely divided into negative karma and positive karma. The worst negative karma: in this life, in this body, they torment each other, entangled without parting, harboring long-term resentment until death, which then extends into the next life. Moderate negative karma: the couple muddles through life, always dissatisfied, feeling that they owe each other. So whether poor or wealthy, whether they have money or not, life is never happy. Slightly milder negative karma: they part unhappily midway, without much hatred between them. The affinity is shallow; it's just that the karma has ended."
"Only with positive karma do they mutually fulfill each other and grow old together. So-called cultivation is nothing more than putting oneself in another's place, turning negative karma into positive karma, and extending the positive karma of this life into the next life. Then no matter what identity they meet in the next life, they will meet as old friends and feel joy. So for couples who wish to share a heart and grow white-haired together, to live well together, if it begins as negative karma, they must resolve the negative karma and form positive karma. If it is already positive karma, it's even simpler: they only need to continue the positive karma."
Pei Xiang smiled radiantly. "But in this world, isn't there more than just romantic love and marital relationships?"
Zhu Lian folded his hands over his abdomen, gently tapping the back of his left hand with his right. He spoke slowly: "Between parents and children, it's a debt. Children come to this world to either demand repayment of a debt or to repay a debt."
"If children come to demand repayment, then the parents must quickly repay the debt, the sooner the better. So you will see in this world that some elders are honest people from solid families, yet they inexplicably produce an incorrigible prodigal son. If children come to repay a debt in this life, then the parents should cherish it and not squander it."
"So you also see some families where no matter how harsh the parents' words or how selfish their actions, the children, no matter how hard their lives or how great the grievances they suffer, are still willing to fulfill their filial duties."
"Of course, there are also some children who can bring fortune to a poor family. This is their way of repaying a debt."
"Do you think that couples with children truly know how to be parents? In fact, none of them know from the start. Since it's the first time in this life for both, whether they are prepared or not, or completely clueless, they are always somewhat confused. So without even leaving home, we can experience joys and sorrows within our own families."
The martial artist Zhong Qian, sitting alone on a long bench, asked in a deep voice, "Mr. Zhu, then what should be done?"
Principles must have a place to land. Otherwise, knowing a whole basket of great principles, besides carrying them around and being burdened, what use are they?
Zhu Lian smiled faintly. "Don't suffer for the sake of saving face. For yourself and others, have more patience. Dare to admit a few mistakes and say a few 'I'm sorrys' to those close to you."
"Especially good people who have no intention of harming others and are full of goodwill toward the world. They must pay special attention to their temperament. They must control their emotions well. Do not give others, especially those close to you, the impression that you are moody and unpredictable. Otherwise, even if you're in the right, you'll end up at a great disadvantage."
"There is a saying that describes a person's inexplicable anger: 'nameless fire.' The character 'ming' in 'nameless' can also be interpreted as 'ignorance'—'wu ming zhi huo.' I think a person's grievances accumulate bit by bit. They only grow with time. Trivial matters turn into emotions we hardly recognize ourselves. We think we've let them go, but how could we? Paper cannot contain fire. This lack of self-awareness is probably what is called 'ignorance.'"
"When we think too much and do too little, how can we reap a harvest proportionate to our efforts?"
"But if we do too much and think too little, how can we protect our goodwill?"
"We humans, living our lives, cannot always feel that we've already worked hard enough."
"But there is no need to be afraid. Under the same roof, all anger that is vented has warmth. As long as you let others know, don't keep it bottled up inside. But also, don't burn others' hearts. So besides letting the other person know what you're thinking, you must also know what they are thinking. Don't worry first about who is right or wrong, or who has reason."
"There's a little trick here: don't 'discuss things as they are' with close family members other than your children. Of course, with children, for family education and establishing rules, there must be no room for argument. Certain things are just so. It's best if the child understands; if not, they just have to do it. For example, when going out, you must greet elders. When you do something wrong, you must apologize for that specific wrong, not because 'doing this will make the other person unhappy' or 'make Mom and Dad unhappy.' Parents also cannot apologize on behalf of their children."
Gao Jun finally couldn't help asking, "Mr. Zhu, I have a question. 'Discussing things as they are'—isn't that universally regarded as an unquestionably positive term, both on and off the mountain?"
"So it's called a trick. If everyone knew it, there wouldn't be much to talk about."
Zhu Lian smiled. With a uniquely gentle tone, he said softly, "When a matter requires us to question or deny our family members, it inevitably carries emotion. We can't help but say a few harsh words. Is it useful? It might be, but more often, it only makes things worse. The argument escalates, everyone talks past each other, and by the end, it's no longer about the original matter at all. You start bringing up old grudges, finding reasons to justify your own rightness, or using one 'right' to negate the other's 'right.' In such a situation, can we truly 'discuss things as they are'?"
"Men like to reason; women pay attention to feelings. A man, if he never understands that the seemingly inexplicable, irrational, and unreasonable emotions on a woman's side are themselves a kind of reason, then it will be very difficult for him to make his own reason understood."
"Let alone when reasoning is only about winning and losing, about who is right and who is wrong. If two people live together like this for a long time, naturally, they will both feel that the other is someone impossible to communicate with. For a husband and wife who share a bed, with no escape, perhaps the only outcome is mutual silence and individual grievances."
"All our misunderstandings of others and of the world may come from three words: 'I think.'"
Gao Jun pondered for a moment, then nodded slightly.
The girl in the sable hat, who had returned to Luopo Mountain, listened with sparkling eyes. She plopped down on a bamboo chair, gave a thumbs-up, and exclaimed loudly, "Mr. Zhu, you are so enlightened!"
Zhu Lian smiled. "A man should think a bit more."
Xie Dog nodded vigorously. Everything Mr. Zhu said was good. This sentence, this principle, was the best.
If Xie Dog had gradually changed her view and begun to genuinely feel that Luopo Mountain was a good place, then the old chef beside her, Zhu Lian, deserved half the credit!
Zhu Lian continued, "Everyone is lazy, born with inertia. So I've always felt that a certain principle from a book, or a phrase you hear from someone else—all those principles that sound easy at first—are very hard to make our lives better. Good principles, on the contrary, feel uncomfortable when you first hear them and are even more painful to practice."
"So Miss Xie, if you listened to all my rambling tonight and only found this one sentence agreeable and reasonable, and took it to heart, and then remembered this and forgot the rest, it would be better if you hadn't listened at all, not even a single word."
Xie Dog gave an embarrassed smile.
Old Mr. Zhu's cultivation was indeed profound.
Little Mo, who had just returned to the courtyard, smiled knowingly.
Zhu Lian was not polite. "Little Mo, what are you laughing at? Are you stupid?"
Mister Little Mo and Miss Xie—he didn't favor either side, keeping the scales even.
Little Mo had just restrained his smile but couldn't help laughing again.
Xie Dog blinked. Oh my, too much, too much. Little Mo was so gentle today, seemingly a few degrees more handsome than yesterday.
Zhu Lian looked up at the sky, silent for a moment.
A seemingly simple principle—how many principles does it actually require to support it?
It seemed that there were too many things that were like an addition problem with only one exact answer. If even one principle was missing, the answer was bound to be wrong.
Snapping back to reality, Zhu Lian smiled. "Let's not talk about things outside the mountain. On our Luopo Mountain, there's only one point: try not to let anyone feel wronged. Of course, that's very hard to achieve, so we strive for everyone to suffer as few grievances as possible."
Some grievances that people are unwilling to speak about come from not getting a response from those around them. All kinds of expectations, hopes, and wishes echo like drumbeats in their hearts, resounding through their own world. But outside the heart, there is silence, eternal silence. It's like a person who has shouted themselves hoarse, but still no one around hears them. That person will speak less and less, remaining silent until they become a mute.
Zhu Lian said softly, "First, don't worry about whether you're right or wrong, about right and wrong. You must be willing to tell others what you think. Why do you say a certain sentence? Why do you do a certain thing? Tell the other person clearly and unambiguously: 'This is how I think. What do you think?'"
Actually, in this matter at Luopo Mountain, the person who did it best was Chen Lingjun, with the mountain lord Chen Ping'an probably coming in second.
For example, if Chen Lingjun encountered something frustrating, his first reaction was always to feel extremely wronged, thinking only, "Why isn't my master here?" As long as Chen Ping'an came home one day, he would definitely complain! Another example: during the river diversion in North Julu Continent, at that critical moment at the great river's estuary, Chen Lingjun also thought that at worst, he'd return to Luopo Mountain, get scolded by Chen Ping'an, take the reprimand, and then carry on as usual. As long as he wasn't kicked off the mountain, he, Elder Chen, was still a hero.
Luopo Mountain had achieved its current state.
Outsiders all felt that Chen Ping'an was too fond of being an absentee landlord. It was pure luck that he now had such a vast fortune.
Even some external cultivators who were relatively familiar with Luopo Mountain felt that Zhu Lian and this group of immovable characters were...
This was where insiders saw the craft and outsiders saw the spectacle.
Chen Ping'an had once sent a letter home to Luopo Mountain, entrusted to Wei Bo for delivery.
On the envelope, written in tiny regular script, was a line: "Warm Tree opens first, Pei Qian reads the letter, Mi Li keeps the envelope."
That year, after receiving the letter, in the bamboo building, three little heads came together. Little Black Charcoal read the letter's contents three times.
Zhu Lian stood up, rubbed his hands, and said with a smile, "I'll go make the late-night snack. Little Mo, lend a hand."
Little Mo smiled and stood up. Assisting Mr. Zhu in the kitchen was already second nature to him.
Everyone ate the late-night snack together. Pei Xiang and Gao Jun, who were normally unused to household chores, helped clear the dishes before returning to their respective quarters.
After the lively bustle subsided, Zhu Lian was alone again. He lay back in his rattan chair, seemingly talking to himself. "Lu Chen, don't you agree?"
On the wall sat Lu Chen, who had arrived at some unknown time. He said with a beaming smile, "There's a small problem. Some principles, even the person who preaches them, can't live up to them themselves."
"Even so, are those principles still not good?"
"If you put it that way, it does seem to make some sense."
Zhu Lian turned his head and spat on the ground. "Flower thief with a jade waist! On the branch of the lacquer garden's Dao tree!"
Lu Chen couldn't help laughing. "How strange. Why are you cursing yourself?"
Lu Chen hopped down into the courtyard and walked straight to the rattan chair. He imitated Zhu Lian's posture and lay down, saying lazily, "It's been years. Care for a chat?"
Zhu Lian sat on the steps, hands tucked into his sleeves, and said calmly, "What do you want to talk about?"
Lu Chen smiled and closed his eyes.
Zhu Lian looked up.
In an instant, in the night, it seemed as if hundreds of millions of sentient beings' dreams rose up like a dense cluster of lanterns, colorful, slowly ascending.
---
Under the eaves of the village school, the old scholar lay comfortably in his rattan chair. Chen Ping'an sat on a bamboo chair beside him, gently waving a palm-leaf fan.
Zhao Shuxia and Ning Ji sat on the other side.
The old scholar asked with a smile, "Ning Ji, I just told you a long spiel. Did you understand any of it?"
Ning Ji shook his head, looking embarrassed. "Ancestral Master, I hardly understood any of it."
The old scholar laughed heartily. "It's fine, it's fine. Have your master explain it to you in plain language."
So Chen Ping'an, using simple and easy-to-understand words, explained it to Ning Ji in detail.
Ning Ji committed both versions to memory. Occasionally, he would ask his master about things he still didn't understand, and Chen Ping'an would explain it in another way.
The old man listened and soon fell asleep again, his snoring light.
Zhao Shuxia and Ning Ji walked softly to the kitchen to make their beds on the floor.
Only Chen Ping'an remained in place, silently accompanying his master.
Outside the school, on the empty ground, there were faint traces of the children's hopscotch game.
Perhaps childhood was just a carefree game of hopscotch. Within the squares was one's home; outside the squares was the world.