Chapter 1153: Borrowing Books
Liu Xiang glanced at the divine path that seemed to lead straight up to the heavens and smiled. “Divine Lord Wei, Clan Head Lu, you two continue your official discussions; we’ll just drink our tea.”
Lu Shen looked a bit strained. Since Chen Ping’an was not on the mountain, talking further with Wei Bo was meaningless. This time out of the mountain, mentioning Ma Kuxuan’s direct disciple was merely a cheap favor sold to Luopo Mountain; there was no more official business to discuss. Besides, Lu Shen couldn’t stand even the sight of Zheng Juzhong, much less sit at the same table with him—it drained too much of his Dao power. As for “Liu Xiang,” when Lu Shen was young, he had to participate annually in an ancient sacrificial rite hosted by the Lu clan, even playing the role of the ascension-song Daoist who chanted prayers on the altar. The name written on the main tablet of the divine seat receiving incense offerings was none other than the divine name and true name of “Liu Xiang.”
Liu Xiang seemed unwilling to let Lu Shen off so easily. “Reading books has its family traditions; scholarship has its own methods. Committing violence in broad daylight, robbing on the road, killing in a back alley—all are better than a person playing Buddha by day and a ghost by night.”
It was like a landlord admonishing a tenant face to face; the circumstances left no choice, so Lu Shen had to sit down upon hearing this. Liu Xiang plus Zheng Juzhong—when they appeared together, anyone who saw them would have a huge headache.
Chen Lingjun was confused. He glanced at Wei Yeyou, who, as expected, was a good brother from Piyun Mountain, equally lost in the clouds.
Wei Bo, however, was surprised that Liu Xiang had appeared with Zheng Juzhong, even more curious about their purpose here—whether there was a primary and secondary relationship between them—and what they intended to “consult” Lu Shen about?
Hearing that the honored guests wanted tea, Xiao Mili told them to wait a moment, then ran off to boil water. Priest Xianwei also went to fetch the first-pick wild tea that Old Cook had personally picked and stir-fried.
A table was set up at the foot of the mountain. Liu Xiang naturally sat in the host’s seat with his back to Luopo Mountain. Since the mountain master was not home, Wei Bo acted as host on his behalf. Zheng Juzhong sat opposite Wei Bo, and Lu Shen faced Liu Xiang, who sat facing south, taking the lowest seat of honor. The cyan-clad child had just recognized a cheap relative, gaining a generation in seniority, and was busy grinning foolishly, completely unaware of the undercurrents at the table.
Wei Bo and Lu Shen found each other disagreeable, but toward the likes of Liu Xiang—a lofty mountain god of high rank, an examiner of heaven and earth’s five phases—he was far more reverent than toward ordinary cultivators.
Seeing Liu Xiang, who was manifested by the vast world itself, was in itself a rare “seeing the Dao.”
It was like a merchant complaining he’d never seen real money, then meeting the living Liu Jujiao (Liu the Treasure).
With Liu Xiang right there, Wei Bo was slightly reserved but not terrified. Since Liu Xiang intended to listen in, Wei Bo was happy to help Chen Ping’an and Luopo Mountain borrow some influence from Liu Xiang. Wei Bo gave a slight snort and continued the earlier topic. “‘Qi,’ indeed—‘ascending the barren mountain.’”
The character “Qi” symbolizes a mountain of jagged rocks, barren, harsh, with sparse vegetation and weak vitality. According to mountain lore, it belongs to the “empty mountain” category, similar to “straight water.” Following the principles of feng shui, this Luopo Mountain is vast but empty, making it difficult to gather qi, unsuitable for opening a grand Dao field. Either an empty mountain exhausts the alchemist’s spirit, or the Daoist needs many external objects and rare treasures to fill the feng shui vacancies. In short, the alchemist and the site easily clash. So, with such a site, what use is it to buy?
Lu Shen said, “Superficially, this mountain is truly a chicken rib—not worth the common qi-refiner’s notice. But from a long-term perspective, it actually aligns with Chen Ping’an’s destiny.”
Wei Bo sneered, “Lu Wei, after all, is a Celestial Immortal. Why didn’t you just pocket Luopo Mountain beforehand? Setting aside a thousand steps, the Lu clan had the first-mover advantage; you should have cast a wide net. Luopo Mountain, Tiandu Peak, even Tiaoyu Mountain and Fuyao Ridge—all taken in one go, linked into a line in the south. What’s so hard about that? That logic doesn’t hold. Pray, Clan Head Lu, enlighten me.”
At that time, the Great Li Empress Nan Zan—true name Lu Jiang—had not yet become a discarded pawn of the Central Earth Lu clan. She was highly influential in the court, with at least half the spies under her command. At the time, everyone thought it was a balancing act by the late emperor: the Embroidery Tiger managed state affairs, the vassal king Song Changjing controlled the border forces, Nan Zan handled intelligence, and they all had sand thrown in each other’s works, plus the surnames of the pillar states… In short, no single force was allowed to grow too strong or dominate the court alone.
For a hundred events, history can explain ninety-nine, but there is always one event that creates new history for later reference.
Lu Shen shook his head. “Impossible. The will is there, but the strength is insufficient.”
Liu Xiang smiled and explained on his behalf, “Lu Wei was once thoroughly taught a lesson by Mr. Qi Jingchun, putting him in the wrong and making him timid. He dared not stretch his hand too far. By the time the Embroidery Tiger took full control of this place, the Lu clan had to act even more cautiously, watching others’ faces. For example, if Lu Shen wanted to use Tiandu Peak as a foothold to start anew, he first had to ask the Embroidery Tiger’s opinion. If allowed, he could land in Bottle Gourd Continent; if not, he had to turn back and look for another opportunity.”
Chen Lingjun was astonished. The Embroidery Tiger was that domineering? He remembered that when they met last time, he was quite reasonable. Or could it be that the State Preceptor saw his extraordinary bone structure and thus favored him specially?
Zheng Juzhong seemed uninterested in these topics, just staring at the table.
Earlier, on the country path, Zheng Juzhong had not intercepted Zhao Shuxia’s thoughts; he had only roughly explained to Wei Bo that the Liu Xiang beside him wanted to see Chen Ping’an’s school. Wei Bo certainly trusted Zheng Juzhong. But even if he didn’t, what could he do? Wei Bo could only wait until Chen Ping’an returned and then mention it, letting Chen Ping’an deal with the headache.
Liu Xiang glanced at Lu Shen. “It’s true you can’t do it, but ‘will is there, strength insufficient’ is actually a reverse statement—‘strength is sufficient, but confidence insufficient’ is the truth. I suspect that when Cui Chan went up Tiandu Peak back then to find you, he already had a clear calculation, betting that you wouldn’t dare gamble. For instance, Cui Chan might have deliberately urged you to let the Lu clan make a huge gamble, betting on Bottle Gourd Continent. If successful, he would help you deal with Zouzi? But you truly didn’t dare gamble. The most you could do was help Cui Chan keep an eye on Mountain Master Chen’s journey: Bottle Gourd Continent, the sea voyage, Sword Qi Great Wall, Tongye Continent, Book Bamboo Lake, North Julu Continent… like a new gatekeeper replacing Lin Zhengchun. The Embroidery Tiger and the Great Li court don’t even have to pay you a salary, yet they can freely employ a Great Grandmaster of the Yin-Yang school at the peak of Ascension Realm. Lu Shen, you would be even more vigilant than him about every contact between Zouzi and Chen Ping’an.”
Lu Shen remained silent. At this table today, it was easy to say too much and make mistakes.
Wei Bo sighed inwardly. If Lu Shen had dared to gamble back then, with the Central Earth Lu clan’s support, wouldn’t the two battles in the south of Bottle Gourd Continent (Old Dragon City) and the central region (Great Li’s secondary capital) have made the Barbaric Wasteland suffer even more?
The reason Lu Shen didn’t nod was naturally because he didn’t think the Embroidery Tiger had the strength to go head-to-head with Zouzi—utterly impossible. Lu Shen was utterly convinced at the time: no matter how formidable Cui Chan was, with only two hundred years of Dao age, he had no right to stand as an equal to Zouzi.
Now that he was seated, since he was here, he might as well stay. Lu Shen, while trying to guess the true intention behind Zheng Juzhong’s visit, asked, “Back when Mountain Master Chen went south, was it driven by his own heart, or was it guided by a wise advisor?”
Wei Bo shook his head. “Chen Ping’an never mentioned this matter.”
Lu Shen wasn’t really asking Wei Bo; he was hoping that Liu Xiang would say more on this matter.
At the beginning of Luopo Mountain’s founding, although Chen Ping’an had received the land deed from the Great Li court, it was indeed unwise for him to stay on the mountain for long, as it would easily deplete his vitality. At that time, Chen Ping’an was in his most qi-turbid and spirit-weak phase. Since the mountain’s soil didn’t nurture the person, and he couldn’t nurture the mountain, they would only harm each other. So the best choice was to leave Luopo Mountain temporarily. Ordinary people thought that the youth’s journey to deliver the sword—going to Sword Qi Great Wall to see Ning Yao—was the only reason. Lu Shen naturally saw a deeper layer: there must have been wise guidance for Chen Ping’an to leave the small town so urgently.
Chen Lingjun’s expression shifted slightly. Wei Bo’s eyes instantly sharpened. Chen Lingjun felt wronged. “Wei Yeyou, I’m not stupid—this is family business. How could I tell outsiders?”
In fact, Chen Ping’an’s southward journey was indeed carefully arranged. Old Man Yang from the medicine shop personally intervened, asking Li Xisheng from Luopo Mountain to cast a divination, resulting in the saying, “The great Dao goes straight; the south is favorable.”
Liu Xiang sighed. “Ten thousand years pass, then another ten thousand, a new book in the human world. How to define eras and delineate the beginning—that is the great learning of scholarship and Dao cultivation.”
“On this particular matter, your Lu clan and the Yunlin Jiang clan are not exactly slow off the mark. Though there is still some suspicion of fumbling in the dark.”
“The first hexagram, honored as the foremost among all classics in the human world, is the Qian hexagram. Lu Shen, what are your lofty insights on this?”
The dignified Clan Head of the Lu clan was treated like a schoolboy being tested by a Confucian scholar.
Lu Shen dared not take it lightly. He carefully considered his words and said slowly, “Host and guest are evenly matched. There exist as many as four states that are half manifest and half hidden. First, only within the Lizhu Cave Heaven does the entire human world achieve a balance between the ancient divine path and the present Dao. It is a hidden, even inverted, host-guest relationship. The corresponding manifest aspect is that the small town is the place where the true dragon fell, which is another inversion of manifest and hidden in opposition to the outside world. The Three Teachings and One Family had to use four treasures to suppress the true dragon’s fate. Second, the future Mountain Master Chen and the East Sea Water Lord formed a pact back then—one manifest, one hidden. Third, someone at this table and all others—one hidden, one manifest. Who this ‘someone’ is was unclear at the time, and even the one who set the table, the medicine shop owner, likely didn’t know who would win.”
In the small town of yore, an iron-locked well was used to trap the “cursed dragon.” On a snowy night, the trapped dragon finally found water. She, in Mud Vase Alley, secretly formed an equal contract with Chen Ping’an, ostensibly becoming Song Jixin’s maidservant. Wang Zhu fed on the fate of Son of Dragon Song Jixin, while “Zhi Gui,” like cutting a hole in the wall to borrow light, stole and gnawed away at the fate of Chen Ping’an next door.
“Whether you call it annotating the classics or interpreting the hexagrams, Qi Jingchun was the first to truly crack the heavenly secrets, but the price he had to pay was indeed rather heavy.”
“Section Master Lu’s interpretation is to align with Heaven as a partner. That can be considered second.”
“Cui Chan, on the other hand, disregards ‘people’ and only focuses on ‘affairs.’ He is responsible for wrapping up the chessboard. Ranked last, he instead becomes a unique first.”
Having patiently listened to Lu Shen’s “exegesis,” Liu Xiang smiled. “Clan Head Lu, is that all for your ‘lofty insights’?”
Zheng Juzhong finally spoke, adding, “Still an open-book exam.”
Seeing Lu Shen so frustrated, Wei Bo felt some of his inner gloom relieved.
But the cyan-clad child quickly gestured emphatically at Zheng Juzhong, transmitting his heart's thoughts: “Zheng nephew, that guy has the surname Lu! What if he’s an expert from the Central Earth Lu clan? Don’t speak too freely, or he’ll hold a grudge… You should also advise your friend—if he likes to say scary things, he should stick to his big talk. Don’t learn from Mountain Ruler Wei, always mixing sharp digs and insinuations, needling this ‘Clan Head Lu’ at every turn… If this ‘Clan Head Lu’ is even remotely connected to that top-ranked ‘Clan Head Lu,’ I won’t be able to protect your friend!”
Zheng Juzhong laughed in his heart and replied, “It can’t be that coincidental, can it? The one surnamed Zheng is Zheng Juzhong; is the one surnamed Lu automatically connected to the Central Earth Lu clan?”
Chen Lingjun panicked and hastily sent a sincere message: “Nephew, you may not know this, but I’ve never gotten along well with those surnamed Lu. Don’t let me drag you down… To be honest, there was a certain Lu surnamed Daoist on the mountain who really wasn’t human. Anyway, forget about gossiping behind people’s backs—it’s not heroic. That guy is very powerful, just doesn’t like me much. That doesn’t diminish his greatness. As for who he is, what his name is, just think of the loftiest status and the highest Dao base. In short, please advise your friend—don’t spare my feelings. Tell him directly that I, Chen Lingjun, have some mysterious fate-karmic conflict with the Lu surname. Tell your friend to take it easy. We’re out here in the world, not debating the Dao with people. Why compete with words? In the whole world, when it comes to quarrels, there are no real winners.”
Zheng Juzhong said, “I relayed that to my friend. He didn’t seem to appreciate it. He replied, saying that this uncle of mine has a big seniority, so why is he so timid?”
Chen Lingjun stared blankly. Liu Xiang was helpless—he would never have said such a thing. “Mr. Zheng, are you so addicted to being a nephew?”
Regarding “fortune-telling,” Chen Lingjun had overheard a few bits and pieces from conversations between Zheng Dafeng and Xianwei. The gist was that upright gentlemen need not consult fortune-tellers. As long as they have a clear conscience, cultivate virtue, and accumulate Dao power—like the sages enshrined in the Confucian Temple who always ask about benevolence of the Supreme Sage but never ask about the Dao. That’s because the Dao doesn’t need to be asked. The Dao is not far from people; they are inseparable from it. When one’s learning and cultivation are profound, they naturally come to understand the Mandate of Heaven… As they chatted, Chen Lingjun had just begun to see them in a new light when they quickly showed their true colors. Zheng Dafeng extended his palm and asked Xianwei, “As a Daoist who’s been fortune-telling for years, take a look at your brother’s palm. What about his future marriage? Any recent romantic luck? Don’t be like Chief Zhou, who has plenty while others suffer drought…”
Lu Shen hesitated for a long time but still steeled himself to transmit his heart to Zheng Juzhong: “May I ask, Mr. Zheng, this time you’re lying in wait—what is it you seek?”
Every peak cultivator with deep Dao power tirelessly and carefully seeks their own path.
Wei She of Aiai Continent, Fire Dragon True Man of North Julu Continent—both had failed twice at merging with the Dao. Even Liu Jujiao, the God of Wealth, and Merchant Mr. Fan were each seeking the Dao through the concept of money.
And that great Central Earth Ascension Realm demon who was killed by Bai Ye leaving his sect and wielding his sword—how troublesome it was! Its Dao field bordered the Yellow Springs. If it hadn’t sought the Dao desperately and failed, it wouldn’t have grown unstable in the Dao heart and attempted desperate measures, like “uprooting its home,” hoping to merge with the Dao through such impiety, thereby disturbing the yang world, blurring the boundaries of life and death for over a dozen countries, and bringing about the sword calamity.
Lu Shen’s seemingly understated “bitterness” truly voiced the feelings of many peak cultivators.
Of course, Lu Shen feared that after Zouzi blocked the way, Zheng Juzhong would now stand in his path.
Zheng Juzhong gave a straightforward answer: “Borrow books to kill.”
Lu Shen couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Borrow what books? Kill whom?
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The young Daoist and the little black-clad girl worked in perfect unison, fetching water and brewing tea. As they walked quickly toward the house, Xianwei couldn’t help but sigh, “That Daoist from the horizon is certainly a high-level expert.”
Xiao Mili asked curiously, “Why?”
Xianwei hesitated and transmitted his heart: “He doesn’t have a trace of human scent.”
Xiao Mili suddenly realized, “I know! When you achieve great cultivation, you don’t touch the mortal world—ethereal and immortal-like. That’s what the books say.”
Xianwei and Xiao Mili exchanged a glance, had a tacit understanding, and simultaneously burst out laughing. “We’re no good, no good at all. We have no immortal style—far from it.”
Entering the house, Xianwei exclaimed in surprise. Several tin canisters were completely empty—where had all the tea gone?
Zheng Dafeng had somehow appeared, leaning against the doorframe. He gave a lame explanation, “Maybe a thief broke in? Not stealing gold or silver, just tea leaves—an elegant thief.”
Xianwei was troubled. Zheng Dafeng slapped his forehead. “Oh, I remember! Master Black Eel has been making himself a cup of tea every now and then lately, praising the leaves to the skies.”
Xiao Mili said, “Don’t panic, don’t panic. I’ll go ask Sister Nuan Shu for an emergency supply.”
Zheng Dafeng yawned lazily, “Just take the best tea there is in the house. Don’t be too fussy. Making a big deal of it will make us seem sycophantic. A passing firewood gatherer can drink it; so can a specially invited Immortal guest. There’s no rule against that.”
Xiao Mili glanced at Xianwei, who nodded. Indeed, Brother Dafeng had the best judgment. “Let’s do that!”
While Xiao Mili ran off to boil water, Xianwei asked curiously, “Brother Dafeng, that Daoist Lu—could he be the Lu from the Central Earth Lu clan?”
Xianwei was not the little fool Chen Lingjun. Zheng Dafeng nodded. “‘Horizon,’ ‘God’—such grand Dao names, such a grand appellation—they need an equally grand surname to match and hold them down. Lu Shen is not just surnamed Lu; he also manages the entire family, all those with the surname Lu. Well, those hung on the wall don’t count, since Lu Shen hasn’t reached the Fourteenth Realm yet. Even if he does merge with the Dao someday, he still won’t be able to control our fortune-telling brother Lu Chen.”
If Xianwei had come here later, Zheng Dafeng would have insisted on dragging him to pay respects to Lu Chen every day. Who would miss such fun?
The Lu clan head—Ascension Realm?! Xianwei clicked his tongue in wonder. “So I’ve met a great figure.”
Zheng Dafeng chuckled. “Yes, you’ve met a great figure.”
Xianwei sighed, “Settling down here has truly broadened my horizons.”
Zheng Dafeng rubbed his chin, looking up at the sky, and smiled. “Heaven sends down murderous intent; dragons and snakes rise from the land. Man sends down murderous intent; heaven and earth are overturned.”
Xianwei waited patiently for Xiao Mili to boil the water, and said casually, “I think rather: wind and clouds come from heaven; the noble one reveres them. Dragons and snakes rise; heroes emerge—full of vitality.”
Zheng Dafeng crossed his arms, lowered his gaze to the courtyard. “You’re right. I’ll take your good words. I’m just a martial artist who plays with fists; you’re a serious Dao cultivator. Your words are always more reliable than mine.”
The scattering of the Three Teachings’ founders in the entire world was like waters returning to a hall—Luopo Mountain would be no exception.
Xianwei smiled and let it go. Brother Dafeng always liked to say offbeat strange things; he himself was thin-skinned and couldn’t bear such praise.
Zheng Dafeng sighed.
Logically, the Central Earth Lu clan had once had an opportunity to cooperate with Luopo Mountain.
It was just that, despite it being a mutually beneficial matter, the specific person handling it might be a mediocre person who can ruin things, liking to be clever.
Wu Shou of the Baofu Zhai had met with obstacles with Cui Chan in Bottle Gourd Continent and Chen Ping’an in Tongye Continent, and it took Patriarch Zhang Zhi personally appearing to mediate and clean up the mess.
Lu Wei, who had been scheming for a long time in Lizhu Cave Heaven, was in a similar situation with the Yin-Yang Lu clan, or rather with Clan Head Lu Shen. Would Lu Shen mend the fold after the sheep are lost, or would he make a bad sequel?
When the heavens above are dozing, some knock directly on the door; others know to wait outside.
The Yunlin Jiang clan was very steady. Even if they detected changes in the celestial mechanisms, they remained patient and didn’t dare act rashly.
At most, they would indirectly let the lowborn Jiang Yun come here to seek fortune and probe the waters, but they would never stake their entire fortune and lives.
Besides, they had set up a “screen,” using Liu Laocheng of Book Bamboo Lake as a shield. After all, the first Upper Five Realm wild cultivator of Bottle Gourd Continent in nearly a thousand years was certainly laden with fate. The master-disciple relationship between Liu Laocheng and Jiang Yun was like the screen wall in a mountain house, able to “ward off evil” for the Yunlin Jiang clan.
Although, within the Great Li palace, Lu Wei had indeed proposed cooperation to Chen Ping’an. But Lu Wei’s proposal at that time lacked any sincerity—he simply treated Chen Ping’an like a fool.
Chen Ping’an had seen through the scheme and exposed the Lu clan’s plan. Through the Earth Mirror Chapter, they had chosen a mountain peak corresponding to Luopo Mountain to survey the warp and weft of the Three Yuan Nine Cycles, the Six Jia Talisman, and so on.
This allowed them to examine both geography and celestial phenomena. This was probably Lu Shen’s method of breaking the situation—trying to break through the invisible barrier set by Zouzi, “imitating heaven and earth,” and finally merging with the Dao at the Fourteenth Realm.
When Zheng Qingjia had come to Luopo Mountain earlier to “return to the clan” with Xiao Mo, Zheng Dafeng had answered some of her questions earnestly. But she was too shallow in knowledge to catch the subtext of Zheng Dafeng’s words, and she missed the opportunity to deduce more shocking inside information. For instance, the three souls and seven spirits are linked to life and death. In the yang world of the living, the soul and body are one, spirit and form harmonize. When a person dies, the soul ascends to heaven, and the spirit form descends to the earth, each finding its place. Hence, a series of sacrificial rites and incense customs have arisen, seeking to house the spirit in temples and the form in graves, receiving their respective offerings and incense. The ruins of the ancient heavenly court, with divine seats preserved for ten thousand years, have never lost their seats despite the collapse of the heavenly Dao. Zhou Mi ascended to heaven and became the Divine Lord.
Old Man Yang, or the Green Boy Heavenly Lord—one of the twelve high-ranked deities—used a flying platform as a subterfuge to cover the sky, used the true dragon’s fall site to muddle celestial patterns, and even the old sword strip hanging under the bridge was still a subterfuge. What Old Man Yang truly wanted to hide was the restoration of the divine path, shaping one half of the “one” in the world. That “He” or “She” would ultimately take up residence in the Luopo Mountain in the west, eventually corresponding with the ancient heavenly court ruins that have hung high for countless eons—heaven and earth, echoing each other from afar.
That was why Old Man Yang had asked Chen Ping’an back then: why did he choose that “bird-don’t-poop” Luopo Mountain?
After a moment of silence, Zheng Dafeng suddenly asked, “Xianwei, late at night, when you close your book, sit alone and think, reflect on your life—do you ever feel that Luopo Mountain has ill intentions, that it’s treating you like a treasure to be priced?”
The young Daoist was radiant, speaking directly from the heart. “I wish for nothing more!”
Caught off guard by such an answer, Zheng Dafeng was stunned and couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”
Xianwei laughed heartily and tilted his chin toward the little ear-reporter of Luopo Mountain, who was listening intently, indicating that Brother Dafeng was so dense. “Xiao Mili, help explain!”
Xiao Mili, who had talked a lot with Priest Xianwei, understood this gatekeeper’s thinking best. “First, you have to be a valuable treasure before someone will try to price you. Simple logic, easy to understand!”
Xianwei gave Xiao Mili a thumbs-up. “And I believe in all of you.”
Zheng Dafeng asked, “Not in Chen Ping’an?”
Xianwei said generously, “I dare not completely trust how generously the Mountain Master treats me. I’ve traveled the world for years, and it’s hard to trust anyone easily—time must tell sincerity. But after all these years, how the Mountain Master treats you, and how you see him—I’ve seen it all. Since I understand, I have nothing to worry about. I just sleep soundly, diligently keep the gate, earn my due, and seriously cultivate the Dao.”
Zheng Dafeng laughed. “Is it because you’ve been hungry and poor for so long that you’re afraid that in your old age, you’ll learn that you’ve been a sagger of humble, bitter fate all your life? Not to mention those that were broken and thrown away on Old Porcelain Mountain—some porcelains went to the mountain, to the imperial family, to the mansions of princes and marquises—they still entered the grand hall. Even the shards of Old Porcelain Mountain were originally made from excellent imperial kiln clay.”
Xianwei seemed about to speak but stopped.
Zheng Dafeng asked, “A different view?”
Xianwei said softly, “I always feel that heaven and earth are one sagger, and we are all saggers in it. As for the so-called fine porcelain, it can be the heart turning to goodness, full of green mountains and flowing water. It can be children without worries, elders dying of old age, and lovers finally getting married.”
Zheng Dafeng was momentarily at a loss for a retort.
Xiao Mili was puzzled. “That Immortal is from the Central Earth Lu clan? That’s a top-tier surname! And the clan head? He doesn’t seem that imposing or rich—rather friendly.”
Zheng Dafeng snapped back to himself and said lazily, “In another place, you’d see how heavy Lu Shen’s presence is—it could scare people to death. It’s just that on our Luopo Mountain, everyone has an iron backbone and doesn’t mind such things.”
Xianwei felt a bit regretful. “If I had known his identity earlier, I wouldn’t have reported my Dao name.”
From the table, they had heard clearly without using heart voice. Zheng Dafeng said offhandedly, “I heard a metaphor: the Central Earth Lu clan is like the Imperial Observatory of the Confucian Temple and the Vast World.”
“The Yunlin Jiang clan, which moved from Central Earth Divine Continent to Bottle Gourd Continent, had a family that served as the Great Invocator for the Confucian teaching. The ancestors of the Central Earth Lu clan were the Grand Diviners, one of the six ancient Confucian Temple offices.”
“As a crude analogy, the Great Invocator of Yunlin Jiang speaks well of the heavens; the Grand Diviners of Lu interpret every word the heavens say, explain it, and relay it.”
Hearing this, Xiao Mili asked doubtfully, “Does the heavens talk? In what accent?”
Zheng Dafeng rubbed his chin. This question from Xiao Mili was far harder to answer than the one from Fairy Qingjia.
Xianwei couldn’t help but laugh and explained casually, “Thunder and rain, wind moving and water flowing—these are the heavens speaking to the world.”
Xiao Mili’s eyes brightened. “That explanation makes it easy to understand!”
Zheng Dafeng was a little exasperated. No wonder those two could talk best together.
Xianwei probed, “Brother Dafeng, could I really be a Dao cultivation genius? Did our Mountain Master have a unique insight and thus favor me especially?”
If he couldn’t be an envied early bloomer, settling for a steady late bloomer wasn’t bad.
Xianwei’s mind started racing. He stretched out his palm. “Brother Dafeng, you always claim to be an expert in palmistry, no worse than my own tricks. Give me a careful look—do I have the qualifications to start my own sect?”
Zheng Dafeng snapped out of his thoughts and said sidelong, “What? Planning to leave Luopo Mountain, rally a faction, and set up your own shop? Well, it’s a good day. Choose Tiandu Peak, Lu Shen’s place. I think it’s suitable.”
Xianwei panicked, flushed red with shame. “How could I! I was just asking if I have any earthly immortal talent, to know if I can amount to something. Best if I do, but it doesn’t matter if I don’t. Brother Dafeng, don’t misunderstand!”
Xianwei knew himself: he wasn’t the kind of material to start a sect. When it came to cultivation, he’d flip through the Daoist books, but the characters recognized him, he didn’t recognize them.
Zheng Dafeng changed the subject. Out of the blue, he said, “Priest Xianwei, would you be interested in writing a book yourself?”
The Daoist grinned. “Buying a book isn’t as good as borrowing one; writing isn’t as good as reading!”