Chapter 1130: A Question That Doesn't Need an Answer
Lü Yan took the lead in taking his leave, and Chen Ping'an wished this Pure Yang True Person, hailed as the number one Golden Core cultivator, a smooth journey of trials.
Mountain Lord Chen added a propitious saying, hoping that the senior's heart of the Dao would be as full as the moon on the fifteenth.
Feng Xuetao was puzzled. Waxing and waning of the moon was a common truth; normally, when full it begins to wane—was that truly a good saying?
Cui Dongshan rolled his eyes and had no choice but to explain telepathically to the unenlightened Brother Feng: as the saying goes, the moon on the fifteenth is round, but the sixteenth is even rounder.
Feng Xuetao was momentarily speechless. In the matter of human interaction and phrasing, Mountain Lord Chen indeed had unique insight.
Chen Ping'an went to meet Xing Yun and Liu Shui, two native sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Wall, and chatted about the local customs and practices of the Barbarian Wilderness. Cui Dongshan, who couldn't sit still for a moment, immediately dragged Feng Xuetao off the Tongyin Ferry Boat, asking this Flying Ascension cultivator if he had any interest in finding a position at the Green Duckweed Sword Sect, as a favor to his own brother. Since their bond was deep and the drink had been good, they wouldn't talk about money, lest it hurt their brotherly feelings. Feng Xuetao had already suffered a major silent loss at Jiang Shangzhen's hands, so he only politely declined and made excuses, especially since he truly didn't feel he and this Sect Leader Cui were on the same wavelength. When they reached the shore and walked through the brightly lit streets and alleys, the white-robed youth flicked his sleeves so vigorously they crackled like whips.
Pei Qian had cleared the wine table and returned to her room to silently practice walking the stakes.
Fire Dragon True Man found the sable-hatted girl who had strayed alone, and got straight to the point with a smile, "May I ask, Fellow Daoist Bai Jing, when you look down at the earth from the heavens, what sort of scenery do you behold?"
Xie Dog pouted. "Nothing special."
Fire Dragon True Man was momentarily taken aback, then remembered this phrase was likely a local dialect from the small town where Chen Ping'an lived. He was silent for a moment, then smiled. "Only after seeing it can one be qualified to say such a thing." Xie Dog reached out and tugged at her sable hat. "You all think I have excellent talent for cultivation, but actually I find myself quite ordinary, not particularly outstanding. I've just taken advantage of several huge favors—being born early, having the luck to meet many figures who appear on the first few pages of the old almanac. According to Buddhist terminology, it might be 'hearing the Dharma' in a narrow sense? Did I say that right? I've roughly counted: I've met, personally consulted with, sparred with, and even lost fights to nearly a hundred such figures. Any one of these ancient Daoists, if placed in today's world, wouldn't be an earthshaking figure? I used to take all this for granted, thought it was nothing special. After coming here, often wandering among the lower world, and seeing cultivators again, enduring the hardship of cultivation, unable to resolve their doubts, I just..."
Fire Dragon True Man waited for her to continue. Xie Dog rubbed her flushed cheeks, held back for a long time, then gave an answer: "Want to cry."
Hearing this, Fire Dragon True Man suddenly laughed heartily, deeply agreed, and said "good" several times. Xie Dog's face was full of melancholy. "Old Zhu is a true friend. He was quite blunt in criticizing me, saying I was born at the right time, endured tribulations in cultivation, was lucky, always managed to escape danger unharmed, and seemed to be slowly accumulating Dao power. But I didn't truly know my own heart. As my realm advanced, I instead regressed in my great Dao heart, thus only proving a minor fruit. I'm still far from being ripe in the Dao. So I previously went out to clear my mind, took a trip to the Ten Thousand Mountains. The view of Old Blindman toward me was about the same as Old Zhu's."
Fire Dragon True Man laughed silently. "Old Zhu?"
Zhu Lian, a martial artist from the Lotus Flower Blessed Land? He was indeed a rare and wonderful person, but in Xie Dog's eyes, how could Zhu Lian ever be considered "old"?
Xie Dog glanced at the old true man and said, "In my eyes, you are also very old."
Fire Dragon True Man stroked his beard and smiled. That remark was very much in the style of Fallen Mountain; it made one feel cheerful to hear it.
In Xie Dog's view, Feng Xuetao, whose Dao name was Qingmi, was merely a junior among juniors. Even Lü Yan, whose Dao name was Pure Yang, was at most a peer on the path of cultivation, and they could address each other as Fellow Daoist.
But the old cook of their own Fallen Mountain and this old true man beside him did possess a peculiar skill—they made people feel they were exactly the kind of elder one idealizes in one's heart.
When they spoke, it was instruction, telling you a few bits of wisdom from those who had been there. In this matter, even Mountain Lord Chen, who most enjoyed arguing principles, seemed to be somewhat lacking in attainment.
Fire Dragon True Man laughed. "The Great Sun, which was once Fellow Daoist's private domain, caused the Golden Crow to slumber for ten thousand years. It happens to be located in Baoping Continent. With such justification on your side, it is somewhat unexpected that you would still be willing to yield a step."
If the rumors circulating among the mountain sects were not mistaken, it seemed Bai Jing had leased this dojo to the Great Li Imperial Court.
Xie Dog pouted. "First, a strong dragon doesn't oppress a local snake. Second, our Mountain Lord is about to become the Great Li National Teacher. We're one family, no need to speak like outsiders."
But she quickly added, "If it had fallen in the Barbarian Wilderness World, you'd see if I'd be so easy to deal with. No matter who came as an intermediary, it wouldn't work. Not even Mr. Bai would be an exception!"
Fire Dragon True Man nodded. "I like hearing honest words from honest people."
Regarding Xie Dog's origins and Dao foundation, even Jiang Shangzhen was extremely curious and privately asked Chen Ping'an whether Miss Xie might have originated from the divine way.
This speculation was understandable, after all, peak cultivators all knew that Bai Jing's dojo was within a Great Sun of extremely high rank. She had once imitated and created a Fire Essence Palace as her dwelling.
However, according to inside information leaked by Qingtong, Bai Jing's origin was indeed a monster from the great earth, not a divine being from the ancient heavenly court. Because of Xiao Mo's relationship, Xie Dog had been quite casual when chatting with Chen Ping'an about the past. She did not deny that her initial intention was to take that "well-born" Great Sun for herself, then try to imitate Lan Yi, one of the ten heroes of the ancient world, and refine this Great Sun into a lifebound object. But she quickly discovered that the Great Sun had actually birthed intelligence, manifesting as a Golden Crow in the Dao, so Bai Jing changed her original intention and became its guardian.
Therefore, when Xie Dog at that time proposed to make a trip to Haoran World, even though Bai Ze clearly knew that the Barbarian Wilderness would lose a top-tier combatant, he did not stop her. This was a very important reason.
It was not simply that Xie Dog was going to find Xiao Mo. According to the rules of the Barbarian Wilderness, whenever it involved a cultivator's opportunity in the Dao, all considerations of profit and loss had to make way.
Moreover, Bai Jing was also a fourteenth-realm sword cultivator candidate on whom Bai Ze had placed great hopes.
Fire Dragon True Man laughed. "Speaking of which, Fellow Daoist Bai Jing, the Pure Yang True Person, and I actually have some connections in terms of Dao traditions and lineages. Calling each other Fellow Daoist is very appropriate."
Xie Dog nodded vigorously. "From now on, the three of us should visit each other often. If we run into tough nuts to crack, we'll call out for each other. I guarantee one signal arrow, and a thousand troops and ten thousand horsemen will come to meet us, haha!"
Fire Dragon True Man clapped his hands and laughed. "Easy to say, easy to say." In the boundless void beyond the heavens, countless Great Suns floated, and each Great Sun was like a ferry port, all leading to that ancient ruin later honored by Daoists as one of the Imperial Halls—the Danxiao Jiangque Huoyang Palace. Pure Yang True Person Lü Yan, throughout history, had many times taught fire methods within this ancient site, and those who humbly listened to the Dao in those days were mostly ancient flood dragons of noble status.
Fire Dragon True Man suddenly asked out of the blue, "It seems Fellow Daoist Bai Jing is very attentive to Pei Qian?"
Xie Dog smiled awkwardly. "Forming cliques and factions on the mountain is like children playing house—just for fun."
Under the instigation of the white-haired boy, they had together acknowledged Guo Zhujiu as their alliance leader, while Pei Qian's group had set up their own faction.
Fire Dragon True Man smiled slyly. "Oh?"
Xie Dog gave a dry laugh. "..."
Fire Dragon True Man changed the subject. "I wonder who first used 'sweet and fragrant' to describe good dreams—that was brilliant."
Xie Dog caught his meaning. She had slept for ten thousand years, and Fire Dragon True Man had also always been famous across the world for his sleeping technique.
On a worldly path full of complex hearts, meeting a few people with simple thoughts was like a lover of fine wine encountering good wine.
Xie Dog grinned. "Old True Man, if we had met on the road ten thousand years ago, we would definitely have become good friends."
Fire Dragon True Man stroked his beard. "Same feeling."
Xie Dog asked, "Old True Man, what are your plans next?"
Fire Dragon True Man laughed. "Return to the Barbarian Wilderness, find a few people who can truly fight, and test my Dao methods."
Because Chen Ping'an and Xie Dog had not deliberately concealed their tracks when boarding the ship, Yunyan Kingdom's informants stationed at Yulin Ferry did not dare be careless and immediately notified the court.
Even though Yunyan Kingdom was small in territory, it still had a handful of local Qi refiners. On the top-floor corridor of a private residence's study building near the ferry port, a group of youths were gazing into the distance at the Tongyin Ferry Boat. On ordinary days, they had nothing to do but monitor the entire Yulin Ferry. They were not afraid of having nothing to do, but rather afraid of disputes between foreign immortals and local people. They heard that the Minister of Rites was on tenterhooks every day, burning incense at temples every few days. Fortunately, so far, nothing had turned into an unmanageable mess in the capital area. Still, the emperor and a large bunch of imperial relatives increasingly yearned for someone specific to visit and meet them. But it was rather amusing: at first, the Yunyan Kingdom emperor would personally host a banquet for a Golden Core Earth Immortal who came to the capital. Later, only Nascent Soul cultivators were worth it—Golden Core was no longer impressive. Then it became Jade Pure from the fifth realm, and now, it was said that even if an Immortal came, the emperor seemed uninterested, since he had already met a Flying Ascension cultivator with the Dao name Qingmi.
A sturdy young man with thick eyebrows and big eyes sat cross-legged with a sword across his knees, frowning. "Is it him?"
Beside him, a slim girl with a cool expression looked eagerly toward the ferry and said, "Hard to say." Previously, they had received a confidential message from the Ministry of Justice: the supreme sect's grand sect leader of the Green Duckweed Sword Sect had personally arrived in Tongye Continent, and the Great Sword Immortal Mi had quickly made a name for himself by finding those Barbarian Wilderness monster remnants who had indiscriminately killed innocents. The turbulent Grand Canal excavation could finally proceed smoothly. Without this key clue, none of them would have connected the blue-robed man beside the sable-hatted girl to that legendary young Hidden Official.
The young man was the only native sword cultivator in Yunyan Kingdom. His cultivation mindset had inevitably been somewhat complacent, but now with his horizons broadened, he felt immense pressure and had recently become taciturn.
The capital was full of eccentric figures everywhere. What were Earth Immortals, once his lifelong pursuit? Now they seemed insignificant. The young sword cultivator felt as if he were practicing the silent tongue recently.
If Tongye Continent were still the same as decades ago, with his cultivation talent and identity as a sword cultivator, he would have been expected to go study at a sect-level immortal mansion.
The young man was gloomy. "To those accomplished cultivators passing through our Yunyan Kingdom, do they see it like passing an anthill?"
In the old Tongye Continent, information was blocked, and Qi refiners often looked down on everything, not interested in the outside world. But now with the world changing, they could no longer keep their doors closed and be arrogant. The girl was stunned by his words, then withdrew her gaze from the ferry, speaking softly. "Zhong Cui, those foreign sects and land immortals traveling under pseudonyms—these towering, unapproachable behemoths—we just keep our distance and stay out of trouble."
The young man named Zhong Cui murmured, "It's easy to invite a god, but hard to send one away."
Because he didn't quite believe the Green Duckweed Sword Sect was a mountain sect running a charity. Did such cultivators really exist in this world, caring so much about the state of the world outside their own cultivation?
He feared that someday, once the Green Duckweed Sword Sect gained a foothold in Tongye Continent, all the vassal states along the Grand Canal would become puppets of that immortal mansion.
A martial artist who moved like flying over rooftops arrived at the top floor, buying a jar of barley wine from an old brand shop along the way. He vaulted over the railing—a middle-aged martial artist whose face bore some resemblance to the young man in the corridor.
The girl covered her mouth and giggled. "Uncle Zhong, you drove off another illegal boat again! I saw it—very heroic."
The man laughed heartily. "Cai Girl, that's not all. I even had a brief meeting with two extraordinary figures on the Tongyin boat and arranged to drink with them."
A tall young man who had been napping against the wall quickly asked, "Could it be that man in blue? Did he tell you his name? Is it Chen?"
The man bragged without batting an eye, speaking seriously, "We admired each other, just arranged to have a drink—no need to know names."
On the rooftop, the white-robed youth lay sprawled, legs crossed, while Feng Xuetao felt speechless. What was the point of coming here to drink the northwest wind and listen to a few kids grumbling?
The young man sighed regretfully. "What a shame. If it really was that person, and you managed to connect with him, Uncle Zhong, you'd have made it big."
The man chuckled. "Young people shouldn't always think that meeting a noble benefactor will lead to instant success."
He patted the young man's forehead and joked, "Kid, do you know that in the eyes of those 'noble benefactors' with money, power, and influence, all you greenhorns have a price tag stuck on your foreheads."
On the rooftop, Feng Xuetao laughed. "That remark has some weight to it."
Cui Dongshan, with his head resting on his hands, dangled his legs. "He's a reasonable man."
Feng Xuetao asked, "Does Sect Leader Cui have any ideas about recruiting someone?"
The Green Duckweed Sword Sect was different from Fallen Mountain. The latter had declared a twenty-year sealing of the mountain, clearly not wanting to expand its influence. But the subordinate sect here, Cui Dongshan, had been actively recruiting.
Cui Dongshan smiled. "Brother Feng, don't always think of me as so mercenary. I'm just appreciating the moon with like-minded friends." Cui Dongshan explained, "I'm just a transitional sect leader. I only need to lay a good foundation, set up the framework, and deliberately leave some gaps. So there's no need to worry about shoddy fill-ins. Later, the Green Duckweed Sword Sect will definitely be handed over to Junior Brother Cao. By then, Cao Qinglang will take over and have things to do. At least he won't be bound hand and foot, following step by step."
Feng Xuetao nodded. "If the Green Duckweed Sword Sect is too much in Cui's style, Cao Qinglang will be in a difficult position."
Cui Dongshan hummed in agreement. "That remark has some weight to it."
Feng Xuetao was helpless.
Over by the corridor, although they felt the man's words made some sense, they weren't willing to admit it verbally.
Yesterday, today, tomorrow—the moon waxes and wanes. The youths each remained youthful in their own way.
The capital had no night curfew. Young people with money and energy, as well as fully energized cultivators, were often night owls.
Many shops temporarily hired attendants to watch over their businesses, earning two days' pay for one day's work—why not?
A pair of Daoist partners who had become a temporary couple on the road also arrived at the Yunyan Kingdom capital. The man had a pale face and a fierce appearance, accompanied by a petite, fair-skinned woman. They were just strolling around to broaden their horizons. Whether having reason allows you to travel the world was debatable, but having money certainly does. They had previously come into a large unexpected fortune, so their thoughts of relying on others faded, and they didn't go to the mountain god's mansion to seek a living. They were Fan Tong and Xie Sanniang. Along the way, they had heard about several major events far away—how a certain Great Sword Immortal surnamed Mi from the Sword Qi Wall had acted, rooting out the monster beasts that were stirring up trouble and wildly throwing talismans; how the turmoil over the Grand Canal excavation had finally been able to proceed smoothly; how a certain prominent figure had appeared as a guest elder at the Jade Gui Sect, Dao name Qingmi, a Flying Ascension old immortal!
Fan Tong and Xie Sanniang naturally didn't know that the culprits who had nearly halted the Grand Canal excavation were the same group of young men and women they had met in that dilapidated shrine.
As for what kind of figure the Sword Immortal Mi was, Fan Tong asked, but since he didn't seem like a good person, no one bothered to answer.
Fan Tong was very tempted to find an immortal inn or shop near Yulin Ferry and ask the immortals if they recognized a person called "Chen Ping'an," or buy a few issues of mountain gazettes to see if he could find that name.
But his woman's words—"Do you even have the money?"—killed the idea. Fan Tong did have some private savings, but he wasn't about to reveal them for such curiosity.
They were staying at an ordinary inn in the capital. Earlier, while strolling near the ferry port, they saw a docked ferry boat—the largest one—and some beautiful young female immortals pointing and gesturing at it. A swarm of twittering women, all registered female immortals. Fan Tong, a hot-blooded man, naturally couldn't control his eyes, and the irritated woman pinched and twisted him until he broke out in a cold sweat. But pain was one thing, looking was another.
Fan Tong believed that if Immortal Chen had traveled with them, it would have been about the same.
He just wondered if that self-proclaimed Sword Immortal Chen, when facing the much-discussed Great Sword Immortal Mi, would feel intimidated chatting with him face to face?
Tonight, the couple came out of the city again to dine at a small eatery near Yulin Ferry. They had a budget for such expenses, and they had saved up a few snowflake coins.
Previously, the woman loved browsing various rouge and powder shops. Here, she was even more extreme. Fan Tong was puzzled: she picked and chose, but never bought anything—what was she so happy about?
Xie Sanniang chose a small, no-frills eatery for hot pot.
As soon as Fan Tong sat down, the owner worried whether this couple would skip out on the bill. But then he thought, with the government tougher now, maybe not?
At the next table were some cultivators who had come down from the mountains. Although they didn't use telepathic speech, their conversation was all about immortal matters.
But Fan Tong knew why: because they had brought along several heavily made-up, flashily dressed mortal women.
Those women, seeing Fan Tong who looked like a wanted criminal, showed some disdain. Then they looked at Xie Sanniang beside the ferocious man, and their eyes held a meaning only women would understand.
Xie Sanniang looked smug. "I'm a proper respectable married woman now. You lot—you earn your living sleeping in beds, right?"
Fan Tong had no idea about this undercurrent. He was more interested in the registered cultivators' chat, which sounded somewhat like showing off.
They were explaining to the women some insider secrets of the immortal world: how mountain Qi refiners could be ranked by their means of travel. First class: those who could tame immortal beasts as mounts—either through their own luck or strong family background, receiving them from their sect or elders. Second class: those who owned an expensive talisman boat—such immortal treasures weren't easy to maintain. Third class, even more extravagant: those who could own a private ferry boat that consumed immortal money as soon as it took to the air...
Xie Sanniang lightly elbowed her man, raising an eyebrow. Fan Tong chuckled and said he couldn't afford any of those three divine styles; even in dreams, he'd need a good sleeping position.
All the women stared fixedly at a young man who drank very slowly—the only one at the table without a female companion.
The glib-tongued man shifted the topic: "Our Young Master Hong here has a talisman treasure boat given by the ancestral hall to celebrate his entry into the Cave Dwelling realm."
The young man surnamed Hong smiled faintly, sipped his wine, and said his meager cultivation was nothing compared to true geniuses, far behind.
The more he humbled himself, the hotter the gazes of the women at the table became.
The man willingly acting as Young Master Hong's hanger-on continued: "The most extravagant, of course, is owning your own private ferry port."
Eating hot pot, Xie Sanniang rolled her eyes from time to time. Fan Tong just felt this barley wine was soft and weak, not strong enough.
Just then, the woman's peripheral vision caught a familiar figure at the entrance. She quickly stood up, saw her man still wolfing down food, and kicked him.
Fan Tong looked up blankly, then his face lit up with a brilliant smile—it was Immortal Chen, meeting them again here.
Chen Ping'an smiled and sat on the bench across from them. "Sorry to impose, but I'm crashing your meal. You're the hosts, but I'll pay."
Fan Tong wiped his mouth. He was a man of no learning but knew how to be polite. "That's so embarrassing."
Xie Sanniang smiled charmingly. "Why stand on ceremony with Immortal Chen?"
Fan Tong plucked up his courage and asked, "Immortal Chen, may I ask bluntly, what line of work are you in?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Every trade has its master."
Fan Tong blushed. The woman couldn't help laughing.
She actually wanted to pick up food for Chen Ping'an, dipping it in the hot pot, but after a moment's hesitation, she decided against it. It might not be appreciated.
An extra set of bowls and chopsticks was added to the table. Chen Ping'an didn't talk much, just dug in hungrily. As per his old habit: hot pot with liquor, and the world is mine.
When they heard the address "Immortal Chen," the neighboring table glanced briefly at the blue-robed man, but only a glance.
Fan Tong lowered his voice. "Immortal Chen, what brings you here?"
Chen Ping'an raised his wine bowl, clinked it with the couple's, and they all drank it down in one go. Chen Ping'an first used his spoon to fish out some tripe from the pot and placed it in each of their small dishes, then smiled and explained, "I happen to have acquaintances here, handling some small matters."
Fan Tong just said "Oh" and didn't think much of it.
The woman stared blankly at the tripe in her dish. When she came to, she immediately turned to the owner and ordered another half-kilo of barley wine.
Outside in the alley, the Yunyan Kingdom emperor, who had rushed out of the palace incognito, held his breath and stood patiently by the wall.
At the Tongyin Ferry Boat, Xie Dog stood with her hands on her hips, smugly delighted. She was even more looking forward to Xiao Mo's return now.
When their Mountain Lord said he was going to meet two friends, Xie Dog asked him to wait a moment, saying she had a favor to ask, something related to scholarship.
In the matter of scholarship, since his youth, Chen Ping'an had always believed that a good memory was not as good as a bad pen. Along the way, he had been sketching various landscapes, street scenes, and architectural styles.
Perhaps infected by Mountain Lord Chen, or maybe just for fun, the sable-hatted girl would follow suit. During rests along the way, she would pull out a booklet, turn her back to Chen Ping'an, and often write and draw.
Chen Ping'an never asked about it, but occasionally he saw Xie Dog scratching her head sneakily and found it amusing. If it were about cultivation matters, it certainly wouldn't cause Xie Dog such distress.
At the time, Xie Dog rubbed her sable hat, showing rare shyness, and asked tentatively, "Mountain Lord, I heard you have a habit of writing travelogues about mountains and waters?"
Chen Ping'an immediately became alert. On their own mountain, nothing could be hidden, so he turned the tables. "Speak frankly, don't beat around the bush. Don't learn from Cui Dongshan."
Xie Dog said in a low voice, "Ha, I just want to emulate the virtuous. Traveling through this magnificent landscape, I want to record it so I can tell Xiao Mo about it."
"Hey, isn't there a saying in books: 'as if personally on the scene, describing things in vivid detail'? I was hoping you could help polish it up."
"Like Old Blindman—with all his reading, he couldn't refine a single lifebound word. No wonder he looked upon our Mountain Lord with special favor."
Chen Ping'an raised an eyebrow, somewhat intrigued. "Let me see the manuscript?"
Xie Dog took a booklet from her sleeve and presented it with both hands, raising it above her head. "I'm making a fool of myself, making a fool of myself."
Chen Ping'an took the booklet and opened it. The characters were quite large, and each page didn't have many words. That was fine—it saved him from having to pretend to read carefully.
"On a certain day, left a certain city. Not sure or roughly how many li walked, saw a tall mountain, really tall. When I reached the top, looked at the town, it seemed so small."
"So much cloud sea, pure white, like cotton... Beside a certain temple, there was a tree whose name I don't know. It looked really old, almost becoming a spirit."
"Passed a dilapidated post station one day, found a few doggerel poems written on the wall, copied as follows..."
Xie Dog asked softly, "Mountain Lord, what do you think after reading it?"
Chen Ping'an's expression was calm, but his mind raced. Finally, he managed to come up with a comment: "The writing is relatively plain."
He wanted to add "and naively cute," but really couldn't say it. It would be too dishonest. He couldn't extinguish Xie Dog's enthusiasm for writing and composition by lying through his teeth.
Xie Dog nodded to herself. "Indeed, the writing is like the person. Even if I crushed the brush, I couldn't churn out those fancy contents."
Chen Ping'an ignored these words and asked, "Why are there so many 'certain day' and 'certain place'?"
Xie Dog opened her eyes wide. "Do I have to write the exact dates and places? I'm not trying to make money by publishing this. I wanted to keep it concise, only write the important parts."
Chen Ping'an tried to keep smiling. "The important parts are indeed very important."
Xie Dog asked tentatively, "There's room for improvement, right?"
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to sit down on the ground, take out paper and pen from his storage item, and start polishing the text on the spot. "I'll make some small changes. Any objections?"
Xie Dog smiled. "Just write whatever you want. The only principle is to describe me and this journey as wonderfully as possible."
She crouched beside him, watching as the Mountain Lord thought for a moment, then wrote swiftly. The opening line was "I delight in traveling." The sable-hatted girl saw this and nodded lightly. "That's exactly how I feel."
The content was also quite plain—seems my talent and the Mountain Lord's are about equal. No need for editing fees.
"Second day of the month. Descended the mountain with a friend, carrying a bamboo staff and a bamboo hat, wearing straw sandals. Inquired of the Dao, heart firm. Clouds and water, drifting free. Twenty li, passed the boundary of Qingping Prefecture. The boundary marker by the road had collapsed. A continent's mountains and rivers had sunk. For nearly twenty years, floods, droughts, locust plagues, warfare in the various states came one after another. The lives of common people below the mountains were even less than weeds. Even in the mountains, it was hard to speak of peace. Over twenty years of light, like sparks from flint, like lightning—passed in an instant. How dare we not cherish our Dao conduct, not accumulate Dao power? The prefectural city was desolate, markets cold, pedestrians on the street had sallow faces. Ten li out of the city, rested at a small station. Thirty li, walked along a lakeshore. Willows swayed gently. Walked in green shade. Passed a boundary ridge, followed a spirit path up the mountain. A mountain Daoist temple lay in ruins. Entered, borrowed their stove to cook. After the meal, climbed to the summit to look out, saw a vast lake stretching like an ocean. Qingping Prefecture lay at my feet. In an instant, wind and clouds surged, obscuring everything. Thinking back to those days, traveling on foot was hard; often I couldn't see the smoke and fire of the human world. Encountering wolves, tigers, leopards, strange birds, exotic beasts, and fearsome mountain spirits and water monsters became commonplace.
"Early morning of the third. Walked down the mountain. Over a hundred li, stopped at Yang Family Shop for a brief rest. Bought dry provisions, spent eight fen of silver. Crossed the Meeting Immortals Bridge. Sudden heavy rain, roads muddy. Walked fifteen li, reached Mute Shoals. Rain stopped, skies cleared. Took a boat at night. Fellow passengers on the boat enjoyed telling tales of ghosts and strange things, unaware that the boatman poling the boat was actually the River God incarnate. Disembarked, walked eighty li on land. On Yellow Flower Ridge, laurel trees lined the road. A pity it wasn't autumn to be here. Met several pilgrims returning from paying respects at the mountain. This mountain had no main peak; every peak was its own master. Went to a peak, sat in meditation for one night. Saw the red sun rise to the sky, the great river like a ribbon. My heart and mind broadened.
"Fifth. Arrived at Willow River Town. Extorted two taels of silver by local ruffians pretending to be soldiers. Seventy li away, saw a famous mountain. Its mountain aura was majestic and not dispersed. Walked with a friend along a mountain stream. Fish in the water were clearly countable. Halfway up, there was a Careful Slope. After that, the path up the mountain was only a narrow, winding bird trail, extremely dangerous. Steps chiseled into the cliff, winding upward. Almost no place to stand, had to walk facing the wall. Along the way, saw an old pine, its trunk like an umbrella. Troops of monkeys leaped and called among the branches and leaves. At the summit, it was flat land. There was a lake in the middle. Beside the reeds were several thatched huts, all occupied by practitioners of the Way. Although their expressions were wooden and their bodies withered, their eyes were clear and bright. I discussed the Dao with them, talked freely about the immortals, buddhas, true men, miracles, and wonders of the mountain throughout the ages. They were extremely detailed and precise. I made a resolve to compile a mountain gazetteer. By moonlight, at the cliff's edge viewing the scenery. I realized that the mountains, rivers, and great earth fully revealed the Dharmakaya.
"Seventh. Sky cleared, traveled fast. Entered a great mountain again. There was an ancient founding emperor's study place, a hidden dwelling for high true men through the ages. Above the mountainside, the climate was like winter. Many scenic spots and historical sites were buried in snow. A pity not to see them.
"Ninth. Passed a battlefield ruin. On a small hillside, saw a tall-capped Daoist, sitting quietly on a cushion, his nose exuding two white hairs, connecting with the clouds and mist. Even as the wind stirred, they remained condensed and undispersed. Did not dare disturb him rashly, stopped twenty paces away. The Daoist opened his eyes and spoke first, his words lofty. The Daoist was kind-hearted. When parting, he repeatedly admonished: we who study the Way must surely stay far from desire, like dry grass that must avoid fire. Immortal and mortal are no different; knowing a mistake and correcting it is like a sick person sweating—it can gradually heal. Must wholeheartedly focus on the Way, strive in cultivation. Never be turned by fame and profit. Remember this, remember this.
"Twelfth. The Great Sun blazing, like high summer. Entered the mountain to escape the heat. Among the mountains, bamboo and cypress were dense, lush green, shading the sky. Heard the sound of evening drums in the distance, realized there was a temple within. There was an ancient temple built by imperial decree of a previous dynasty. Its incense offerings were sparse. Inside the temple, two monks, both looking like Arhats, of considerable Dao conduct. The mountain's products were poor, their livelihood cold and bitter. Their Dao provisions entirely depended on descending the mountain to beg for alms. The two monks were skilled in talking about Chan and Pure Land. They said that in the age of the Final Dharma, only the Pure Land door was extremely stable and extremely swift.
"Fifteenth. On the official road, encountered over a hundred refugees migrating from their homeland. Traveled together for over a hundred li. Parted at a congee stall. Twenty li. The sky darkened, day like night. Ate lunch at a wine shop on the border of two counties. Inside the shop, met a wandering swordsman with a blade, tall and sturdy, with an imposing Dao aura. Invited me to drink together. Warned that the roads were infested with bandits, countless, impossible to kill them all; we must take a detour. The wanderer said he had no fixed home, led an old, lame horse on a distant journey, his figure desolate. As we sighed, when paying the bill, I discovered the wandering swordsman had pretended to be a good friend, taken the opportunity to buy goods on credit, and fled. My good friend and I exchanged smiles, thought nothing of it.
"Sixteenth. At dusk, passed a border into another state's prefectural city. The marketplace was prosperous, population dense, products abundant—completely different from what I had seen before. Stayed overnight in the city's Tanhua Temple. The presiding temple master was warm and hospitable, personally led us to pay respects at all the halls. His words were sincere: 'Delusion comes like bubbles rising in the sea, desire arises like a wildfire sweeping the plains. We practitioners cannot fail to observe this truth.' Then he spoke a few clichés: 'Speaking is easiest, doing is hardest.' Stayed in the city for one day.
"Eighteenth. Continued traveling on foot far away. Mountains and waters, walking and stopping. At the foot of a nameless great mountain, saw three young men, swearing solemnly not to return home until they became immortals. Later, saw a tadpole-script stele. The stone carvings were blurred, the inscription indistinct. Stopped to make rubbings. A cloud-water monk had left an inscription here: 'Ashamed that this life may never see this place again.'
"At the mountain summit, there was a rock standing alone like an old monk. There were ancient thatched huts, now a patch of wild grass. Only an ancient well remained as a historical relic, beside it still growing green chives. A single peak emerged from the vast ocean of clouds, like a pillar in the middle of the stream. It seemed the mountain moved while the clouds stood still..."
Pei Qian finished her stake-walking practice and walked out of her room. The moonlight was clear. She saw Xie Dog still standing at the ship's bow, chuckling to herself.
Xie Dog turned and glanced at the young woman, making a funny face at her. Pei Qian didn't mind; she was used to it.
Xie Dog crept up to her, making a drinking gesture, and asked with a grin, "Pei Qian, how about we chat over a drink? There are some things it's time you knew."
Pei Qian seemed deliberately to evade the weight of the question, looking puzzled. "Didn't we just drink?"
Xie Dog sighed like their Mountain Lord. "Second round!"
Pei Qian shook her head. "No thanks." Xie Dog was about to say more, but Pei Qian had already turned and walked toward her room. Xie Dog opened her mouth as if to speak, but ultimately did not call her back. She leaped onto the ship's railing, dangled her legs, and muttered to herself like a drunkard: "When the time is not right, great dragons and serpents hide; when the time is right, they walk the human world."
Xie Dog turned to look at the retreating figure and asked, "I have a question—you don't have to answer it. Have you been well all these years?"
Pei Qian turned her head. In her bright eyes, there seemed already to be an answer. Before meeting her master, how life was—no need to speak of it. After meeting her master, it was the best it could be.