Chapter 351: Eleven Next Year
After Zhong Kui left the courier station, he was taken into a piece of old locust wood that resembled a scholar's official gavel by the old Daoist. The old Daoist suddenly turned around, covering a thousand li in a single step, and arrived at Chen Ping'an's courtyard in an instant.
Chen Ping'an, still in a daze and not yet fully collected, quickly bent at the waist, cupping his fists. "Junior Chen Ping'an pays respects to the old immortal master."
Zhong Kui had earlier spoken of his own death and dao dissolution in a light and casual manner, but when mentioning the Daoist of Taiping Mountain, he made no effort to hide his closeness.
The old Daoist extended his hand, pressing down slightly. "No need for such formalities."
Chen Ping'an straightened up and asked, "May I ask if the old immortal master has returned for some matter?"
The old Daoist looked at Chen Ping'an and nodded. "If you can hold fast, then you are a true hero. No wonder Huang Ting and Zhong Kui both see you in a new light."
Chen Ping'an didn't understand, but he didn't ask further.
The old Daoist was in a good mood and asked with a smile, "Calling yourself a swordsman, where is your sword?"
Earlier, when the flying swords First and Fifteenth had emerged from the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, the old Daoist from Taiping Mountain had pretended not to see them.
Chen Ping'an answered honestly, "I used to practice fist techniques, and I've only recently started training in the sword. So for now, when I practice swordsmanship, I'm just holding an empty sword posture, focusing more on visualization in my mind."
The old Daoist muttered to himself, "If I had known this earlier, I shouldn't have been so eager to compete with others in deductions. Not only did I lose, but I also missed witnessing your experiences in the Lotus Radiance Blessed Land."
The old Daoist was tall and imposing, wearing a hibiscus crown symbolizing one of the three branches of Daoism. His Daoist robe was pure white, and his hair and beard were also white, giving him a very celestial bearing.
Chen Ping'an didn't know how to respond, so he remained silent.
Facing such an old immortal with keen insight, there was no need to pretend to be clever. Any attempt at embellishment would be like an old woman applying rouge or a child wearing an official's robe—laughable and embarrassing.
The old Daoist suddenly asked, "I could lend you a sword. Whether for sixty years or a hundred years, it's negotiable. You can exchange it with a magic treasure, or pay with Grain Rain Coins."
Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "Thank you for the kind offer, old immortal master, but I actually already have a sword."
Chen Ping'an looked a bit embarrassed. "Besides, I don't have a single Grain Rain Coin on me."
The old Daoist didn't insist. The reason he had suddenly thought to lend a sword to this young man was that he truly admired the thousand-year, ten-thousand-year pact between him and Zhong Kui.
There was also a deeper, well-intentioned motive behind it, but after speaking, he already regretted it somewhat.
Better not to force growth.
The chaos at the Fuzong Sect had made the old Daoist somewhat worried.
As for why he had returned to the small courtyard, it was because he had noticed an unusual disturbance in Chen Ping'an's heart-lake, as if Zhong Kui's death had greatly affected his state of mind.
But after carefully examining him, he felt relieved.
In cultivation, it's taboo for the heart to be like a small boat drifting with the current. As for those whose state of mind is as chaotic as willow catkins, in the old Daoist's eyes, they weren't even worth mentioning as taboo—they simply shouldn't cultivate the Dao. If they did and managed to climb to a higher realm by luck, all they would do is scramble for opportunities, fight over treasures, and snatch spiritual energy. When they descend the mountain and walk among mortals, aside from showing off their power and bullying others, what good could they possibly do?
But no matter how much the old Daoist disapproved of many cultivators who focused on power rather than cultivation of the heart, he could only guard his own little patch of Taiping Mountain and ensure that the ethos of his mountain sect remained upright.
Chen Ping'an brazenly asked, "If I may ask, old immortal master, do you have any mountain-protecting formations?"
The old Daoist nodded. "Taiping Mountain itself has two grand mountain-protecting formations. One formation's core is the Bright Moon Mirror, which can illuminate all demons and evil spirits in the world, leaving nowhere for them to hide. The range depends on the cultivator's skill level. Once caught in the mirror's light, they will temporarily drop in realm. Then comes the Four Sword Formation, with four ancient swords modeled after the four great immortal swords of antiquity, each at the rank of half-immortal weapon. When they form the sword formation, it becomes equal to a single immortal sword, capable of traveling ten thousand li in an instant. Earlier, if that old beast hadn't refined one of the swords, I would have already slain it. Even if it had run several thousand li, it wouldn't have mattered. Now it has escaped death, but the Immortal Realm is divided into left and right. That old beast had only just broken into the twelfth realm, and its realm was unstable. Coupled with the suppression of this world's rules, now that its life-bound treasure is destroyed and its true body has been pierced with several holes, damaging its primordial spirit, it's no longer worth mentioning."
When the old Daoist mentioned the sword-carrying old ape, his murderous intent surged, and his vast spiritual energy became almost tangible, forming a white mist that swirled around him like slender streams. He composed himself, and the phenomenon faded. This was actually one of the aftereffects of dropping a realm. "The troublesome part is that the old beast suddenly burrowed into the ground, following a broken and fragmented ancient dragon vein, and vanished. It was most likely a premeditated escape route."
The old Daoist pointed upward. "Earlier, when I fought the old beast, and later repelled a major figure from the underworld, a Confucian sage responsible for overseeing the sky canopy above the Parasol Leaf Continent naturally saw everything. He descended upon our Taiping Mountain. After learning of Zhong Kui's death, he flew into a rage and personally went after that white ape. Yet the old beast still managed to hide itself. Now it depends on Huang Ting, who has some karmic connection with it, to find some clues. As long as we find it, even if Huang Ting dies in battle, one of the seventy-two sages enshrined in the Confucian Temple, who is now prepared, can strike a fatal blow."
Chen Ping'an wanted to speak but hesitated.
The old Daoist smiled. "This is the worst-case scenario. That girl Huang Ting has always been lucky. Having tempered her temperament in the Lotus Radiance Blessed Land and with two ancient swords to protect her, pursuing the white ape might even be an opportunity for her to break through to a higher realm."
Chen Ping'an murmured an acknowledgment.
The old Daoist's smile turned meaningful. "After I forcibly pulled her out of the Lotus Radiance Blessed Land, I expected her to complain and be whiny for half a day. But instead, she didn't grumble at all. Along the way, she mentioned you many times, saying she must go to Dayi Longquan to find you in the future."
The old Daoist gently waved his sleeve. "How strange. I'm not a talkative person, but tonight's conversation totals up to decades of talking. Back to the main topic. The mountain-protecting formation of Taiping Mountain has a great origin. It is both offensive and defensive. Even many upper and orthodox sects in the Central Continent would not be better off. I cannot privately teach you the method to refine and operate it, as it involves the mountain and river qi of Taiping Mountain. However, I personally own a mountain-protecting formation obtained from an ancient immortal's secret cave dwelling. It has immense killing power, and I can sell it to you. But it consumes a great deal of silver—making it costs money, and maintaining its operation consumes even more mountain and river qi. I originally planned that if one day Huang Ting wanted to establish her own sect elsewhere on the Parasol Leaf Continent, or if she married someone and formed a Dao companion, I would give it to her as a dowry. I might even have to take out most of my burial savings."
Chen Ping'an swallowed hard. It had nothing to do with Huang Ting, dowry, or burial savings, but he was terrified by those four words: "consumes a great deal of silver"!
The old Daoist noticed Chen Ping'an's hesitation and burst out laughing, teasing him, "Good calculations, good calculations! I like that!"
Before Chen Ping'an could figure out the nuances, the old Daoist had already dropped the topic of the mountain-protecting formation and gently reminded him, "Chen Ping'an. Although I don't know what treasure you carry that can conceal the heavenly secrets and prevent others from deducing or divining your location and fortune, you must cherish it dearly. Such items are truly rare and hard to come by. The entire Taiping Mountain has only one such item, left behind by our founding patriarch."
Chen Ping'an thought of the unremarkable oilpaper umbrella and nodded heavily.
Looking at Chen Ping'an, the old Daoist felt very gratified.
The female Daoist Huang Ting, the gentleman Zhong Kui—these were the few young people that the old Daoist considered worthy of his notice.
Now, there was also this Chen Ping'an.
The old Daoist thought that whether it was the remote southeastern corner of the Parasol Leaf Continent or the vast Grand Vast Heaven, the more young people like this, the better.
No matter how chaotic the world became, there were still pillars of support.
Earlier, to prevent Zhong Kui's soul from being taken to the Yellow Springs by that great figure from the underworld, the old Daoist had dropped a realm. He knew in his heart that he would never have another chance to make up for his greatest regret.
This ancestral master of Taiping Mountain, after successfully breaking into the Immortal Realm back then, had been granted the title of Guanmiao Heavenly Lord by the Daoist lineage he belonged to, holding a transcendent status.
The greatest regret of the old Daoist's life was that, historically, whether in the orthodox Confucian Grand Vast Heaven or the Daoist-ruled Azure Underworld, whenever a Daoist advanced from True Lord to Heavenly Lord, regardless of which of the three branches he belonged to, he could invite the sect's patriarch to personally come and hand over the Daoist robe, crown, and a token of faith. But Guanmiao Heavenly Lord, as the newest Heavenly Lord of the Grand Vast Heaven in his lineage, had not been able to personally see that great patriarch leave the White Jade Capital and descend to the Grand Vast Heaven. The old heavenly lord did not dare to speculate recklessly, but everyone in Taiping Mountain had done some pondering. For this reason, the sect leader of Taiping Mountain had specially run to the northernmost academy of the Parasol Leaf Continent to cautiously inquire if some Confucian sage with a sacrificial statue in the Confucian Temple had interfered, preventing their patriarch from appearing.
That academy's mountain master was a straightforward person. Too lazy to beat around the bush with the sect leader of Taiping Mountain, he smiled and asked in return, "The other two patriarchs might receive such 'treatment,' but given the incense friendship between your lineage's great patriarch and our Confucian school, who would stop him if he wanted to come to the Grand Vast Heaven?"
After receiving this answer, the old heavenly lord became even more depressed.
After much thought, he could only conclude that although his realm was high enough, his path was still narrow, and thus the founding patriarch had intentionally given him a lesson.
Before the battle at Taiping Mountain, the old heavenly lord still thought that if he could one day reach the Flying Ascension Realm, he would surely be able to see the patriarch. Now that hope was completely shattered.
He had no regrets, but the disappointment was inevitable.
Just as the old Daoist was about to leave, Chen Ping'an said, "Thank you, old true immortal!"
The old Daoist asked with a smile, "Thank me for what? For dropping a realm for Zhong Kui's sake?"
The old heavenly lord shook his head. "No need. This is what Taiping Mountain owed him."
Chen Ping'an said solemnly, "I thank the old true immortal and Taiping Mountain for letting me know that even the immortals on the mountains can have chivalrous hearts that treat the mortal world with kindness."
The old Daoist's mood immediately brightened. "Good! I didn't expect you to be like Zhong Kui, quite skilled at flattery."
Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "That was my true feeling."
The old Daoist smiled at the young man. "A sincere flattering word—that's what makes one comfortable."
The old Daoist rode the wind and departed.
A small head was pressed against the window, staring blankly at the courtyard.
Strangely enough, neither Zhong Kui nor the old heavenly lord's appearance had been noticed by anyone in the courier station. Only Pei Qian, perhaps by accident, was up late at night watching Chen Ping'an in the yard.
Chen Ping'an turned back to look at Pei Qian. "Go to sleep."
Had he said nothing, it would have been fine, but as soon as Chen Ping'an spoke, Pei Qian went to fetch a stool, nimbly climbed onto the windowsill, and jumped down, landing steadily.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Not sleeping? Why are you here?"
Pei Qian said ingratiatingly, "Can't sleep. Thought I'd chat with you for a bit."
Chen Ping'an waved his hand, saying he was going to practice his fist stance. She could stay if she wanted.
After watching for the time it takes an incense stick to burn, Pei Qian got sleepy. She said something to Chen Ping'an, took a deep breath, and then dashed toward the window. She leaped high, presumably trying to press her hands on the windowsill first, then flail her legs wildly, hoping to scramble up in one go and look impressive.
But instead, her chin slammed hard against the windowsill.
She fell backward to the ground.
Chen Ping'an turned his head away, unable to bear the sight.
Pei Qian sat on the ground, covering her mouth with her hand, turning her head away. Her eyes were misty, and she looked about to cry.
Chen Ping'an walked over, crouched down, gently took her hand away, looked, and asked with a smile, "Still trying to play the hero?"
The little girl's dark face was streaked with tears that fell in torrents.
Chen Ping'an had to suppress his smile and helped her stand up. "There's a little girl about your age who is just as rash and careless. But she can take pain better than you. If it were her, she'd definitely be smiling at me now, and might even comfort me, telling me not to worry."
Chen Ping'an added, "But everyone has their own personality. You don't have to imitate her."
The two sat down at the stone table.
Pei Qian only dared to open her mouth slightly and asked indistinctly, "What's her name?"
Chen Ping'an said, "Her name is Li Baoping. She likes to wear a bright red cotton-padded jacket, and she likes to call me 'little master uncle.'"
Pei Qian asked softly, "Do you like her a lot?"
Chen Ping'an nodded.
How could there be a little master uncle in the world who didn't like Li Baoping?!
She was right.
Pei Qian said nothing.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Just now, when you saw me walking the stake and practicing my fists, what did you think?"
Pei Qian looked completely blank. This time it wasn't pretense; she didn't know why he was asking.
Chen Ping'an looked puzzled. "Didn't you think about secretly learning?"
Pei Qian shot back, "What would I learn from your swaying walk?"
She stood up, full of energy, flailing her arms and legs wildly. She pretended to draw a sword, then jabbed randomly with two fingers together, jumped up and down a few times, and even threw a few clumsy punches, showing off a bunch of random moves. "Of course, if I'm going to learn, I'll learn the most powerful moves!"
Chen Ping'an didn't find it ridiculous at all. Instead, his expression turned serious.
On the streets of the Lotus Radiance Blessed Land, Lu Fang flying on his sword.
Chen Ping'an's School of the Great Dragon.
And the "Divine Man Beats Drum" style that repelled Zhong Qiu.
Mixed in with some scattered moves from the demon Ding Ying.
They weren't exactly similar in form.
But.
Someone had once said, "If you practice fists without truth, you'll invite the laughter of ghosts and gods." But what if someone skipped all the stances and directly grasped the true intent?
As far as Chen Ping'an knew, only one person could do that.
It was as he suspected.
Chen Ping'an asked a question: "During the day, you stared at Fellow Daoist Shao. What did you see?"
Pei Qian didn't dare to answer.
Chen Ping'an said, "As long as you don't lie, whatever you say is fine."
Only then did Pei Qian look around and say softly, "I think that fellow Shao has bad intentions. He's not a good person."
Chen Ping'an asked a second question: "Can you see that old Daoist from tonight?"
Pei Qian nodded vigorously.
Chen Ping'an felt a bit helpless.
That was the founding patriarch of Taiping Mountain using the great divine ability of the abbot's realm.
Chen Ping'an asked again, "If you become skilled in martial arts in the future, and you feel someone has bullied you, what would you do? Tell me the truth!"
Pei Qian hesitated. "Just beat them half to death?"
Seeing that Chen Ping'an seemed about to get angry, she gave up and crossed her arms over her chest, huffily saying, "Beat them to death and be done with it!"
Chen Ping'an asked with a smile, "But what if you're actually in the wrong?"
Pei Qian reasoned confidently, "I'm by your side every day. How could I ever do anything wrong?!"
Chen Ping'an felt amused and exasperated inside, but kept a stern face and asked, "But one day, you'll have to go out and travel, walking the martial world on your own."
Pei Qian said firmly, "I won't! Why would I go out alone? There are so many bad people out there. What if I can't beat them? And what if I don't have enough money and go hungry every day? If I steal or rob, you'll find out and scold or hit me. What can I do? So, I'd better not go out."
Chen Ping'an asked, "And if one day you become very skilled in martial arts, even stronger than me?"
Pei Qian frowned, thought hard, and shook her head desperately. "I'm lazy! I love sleeping the most, and I'm afraid of pain. You already know that. When I walked before, my feet were covered in blisters. When they popped, I cried until my throat was hoarse. When you fought with someone in the inn, you could see the bones in your arms, but you didn't cry. I can't do that. If I look down and see my own arms like that, I might just faint from fright. Oh well. If only there were a peerless martial art you could master overnight without any hardship, that would be great."
Chen Ping'an held back his laughter. "So you admit you're lazy, unambitious, and cowardly?"
Pei Qian hung her head, looking dejected.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Why aren't you talking now?"
Pei Qian said pitifully, "My chin hurts."
Chen Ping'an chuckled, turned around, leaned his back against the stone table, and looked up at the night sky.
Pei Qian imitated him, but since she was short, she had to rest the back of her head on the stone table.
Chen Ping'an said softly, "After the New Year, you'll be eleven years old. So you need to read more books and learn more principles."
A heavy responsibility lay ahead.
It was truly more exhausting than practicing a million fists.
But it was fine.
Chen Ping'an rarely spoke his heart to Pei Qian. "Back in my hometown, when I was a bit older than you, I had never read a book either. Teacher Qi told me that principles are in books, but living as a person is beyond books."
Chen Ping'an murmured in the end, "I hope everyone in the world can meet a Teacher Qi when they are young."
For now, Pei Qian was still a little girl who only liked to hear the things she wanted to hear.
For example, Chen Ping'an had said she would be eleven next year.
In this world, only Chen Ping'an remembered such things. She was ten this year, eleven next year.
---
The old Daoist of Taiping Mountain suddenly stopped mid-flight, took out the locust wood, and Zhong Kui's soul emerged and floated down.
Above the sea of clouds, Zhong Kui saw standing not far away the person he knew best—the mountain master of Dafu Academy, his teacher.
The mountain master just looked at Zhong Kui.
Zhong Kui asked softly, "Teacher?"
It seemed the mountain master couldn't believe the tragic news, not even now, "It shouldn't have come to this. It shouldn't have."
A moment of poor judgment. He shouldn't have gone to that Biyou Mansion. He shouldn't have sent this disciple, "the one who pleased me most in life," to Taiping Mountain. He should have just stayed in that inn in the border town and kept an eye on the hidden nine-tailed fox.
Although the nine-tailed fox was a twelfth-level great demon, her identity was too special, her seniority too high. Once her true name was known, as long as Zhong Kui was in the Grand Vast Heaven, he would have had the means to protect himself.
No one had ever expected that the sword-carrying white ape of Taiping Mountain was the true culprit behind the escape of the demons from the Well Prison.
Zhong Kui simply couldn't bear the current atmosphere. He said loudly, "Teacher, it was a matter of duty. A scholar either educates the people with learning and supports the state, or uses his righteous spirit to vanquish demons and defend the Dao..."
The mountain master roared in anger, "Do I need you to lecture me on these great principles?!"
Zhong Kui fell silent, as timid as a cicada in autumn.
The old heavenly lord sighed. "If the academy comes to question this, Taiping Mountain will not shirk its responsibility."
The mountain master, facing the old Daoist, no longer had the demeanor he had with Zhong Kui. He said respectfully, "My elder brother may be angry, but he will not come to punish us. Moreover, what crime has Taiping Mountain committed? Did the heavenly lord ever blame Zhong Kui for failing to protect Taiping Mountain? Why couldn't he protect that earth immortal?"
Zhong Kui quietly added, "Teacher, that old Daoist is named Liang Su."
The mountain master was about to flare up again.
Zhong Kui immediately shut his mouth.
The old Daoist lamented, "After this calamity, things might get a bit better for the Parasol Leaf Continent, but Bodhi Continent and Fuyang Continent are likely to fall into great chaos. The treasures that emerged from the three continents earlier—it turns out they were all part of the demon race's scheme."
Then the old man said quietly, "Your academy must protect that young man from the Fuzong Sect. He was the one who uncovered this matter..."
He didn't continue.
The mountain master nodded. "Of course. I have already arranged with the Fuzong Sect. That young man will study at Dafu Academy under a pseudonym. Whether he becomes a Confucian disciple in the future depends entirely on his own wishes."
The old Daoist smiled. "If Ji Hai's closed-door disciple becomes a virtuous gentleman, won't the Fuzong Sect fight you to the death?"
The mountain master, mentioning the Fuzong Sect and the great cultivator Ji Hai, sighed with emotion. "Ji Hai said frankly that whether he takes the young man as a direct disciple or gives him that weapon, it's all deserved. But as soon as he saw the young man, he couldn't calm his heart. It would hinder his cultivation. He would never be able to break into the Immortal Realm. And then how could he go to the Sword Qi Great Wall in the future to slay other twelfth-level great demons?"
The old Daoist looked regretful. "The only pair of upper-five-realm Daoist companions in the Parasol Leaf Continent. A rare match made in heaven. It's a real pity. Ji Hai's breakthrough will be very difficult. The more he clings to his obsession, the harder it will be to eliminate the inner demon."
The mountain master smiled bitterly. "Some things can be advised by others; some things are hard to advise."
The old Daoist sighed again.
Cultivating the Dao is as difficult as ascending to heaven.
But in very ancient times, it was said that ascending to heaven wasn't the hard part—cultivating the Dao was.
---
At the peak of the most majestic mountain in the Central Continent.
There was a golden-armored god, both hands resting on a giant sword, wearing a face mask that hid his features. He stood beside a stone tablet at the summit, while an old Confucian scholar sat cross-legged on top of the tablet, extremely rude.
The old man calculated with his fingers inside his sleeve, then slapped his thigh. "Excellent! What a great excellence!"
The golden-armored god twitched the corner of his mouth.
The old man said smugly, "What do you think of my closed-door disciple?"
The golden-armored god, who had been pestered by the old man for a whole month, said impatiently, "Fine, fine! Is that enough?"
The shabby old man pointed at the god, who was almost as tall as the giant tablet, and laughed heartily. "That look of yours, unconvinced on the outside but defeated on the inside—I like it the most."
Then the old man started bragging about his past glories again. "Back in the day, whenever I argued with people and they lost, every single one of them had that bird-like expression of yours. It made me feel so good inside."
The golden-armored god was one of the Five Great Peak True Gods of the entire Central Continent. He sneered, "Who was it that initially proposed to let a poor scholar like you join the Confucian Temple? Tell me who, and I'll go ask him if he was blind."
This was a great unsolved mystery within the Confucian school.
The old scholar grinned slyly, "You guess?"
Even the Suishan Great God, who normally had a good temper, would get annoyed after being nagged by someone for a whole month, especially when that old fellow was the type who never acts without getting something in return. Could there be any good in this?
So he said bluntly, "I guess your damn uncle!"
The old scholar gave a thumbs-up, pointing at himself. "It's not my uncle—it's our Confucian founding master. I wish he were my uncle, though. Ah, what a pity, what a pity..."
The Suishan Great God, known throughout the world for his pride and obstinacy, actually stood up solemnly, bowed to the heavens and earth, and apologized to the Supreme Sage.
The old scholar continued as if to himself, "You know me, right? I have a particularly thin skin. I always remind myself that I shouldn't accept favors without merit. But I'm talented, I write well, and I explain principles brilliantly. So our Supreme Sage found me, urged me earnestly, and persuaded me with kind words. I was so moved. The Supreme Sage said many good things about me that I thought were only average, but one sentence really struck home: 'Since ancient times, saints and sages are always true heroes, but heroes are not necessarily saints.' When I heard that, I thought the Supreme Sage really understood me. So I made a small request to this founding master..."
The Suishan Great God said solemnly, "I don't want to hear it. Shut up!"
The old scholar clutched his wrist in regret. "How can you not tell good from bad?"
The Suishan Great God snorted coldly. "If I could tell good from bad, would I have let you up the mountain?"
The old scholar rubbed his chin, feeling that in this matter, he wasn't exactly in the right, so he immediately changed the subject. "That old Daoist from the Eastern Sea has a really unpleasant personality, but as a person, he's passable. He's quite generous, not losing face. I know he gave that kid a good item. It's not helpful for cultivation, but in this world, things are better if they're clever rather than just good. It's just right for hiding the heavenly secrets. Even better than that shabby straw hat Ah Liang wore back then. For that kind of gesture, I won't hold those dirty things he did in the Lotus Radiance Blessed Land against him."
The Suishan Great God taunted, "Even if you wanted to go toe-to-toe with him now, could you?"
The old scholar said earnestly, "We scholars still need to compete with people in terms of principles. Fighting and killing, even if you tear through the sky, isn't real skill."
The Suishan Great God, for once, didn't contradict him.
The old scholar tucked his hands into his sleeves. The violent wind at the peak of Suishan Mountain raged, causing ripples to form on the talismans of the golden armor, but the old scholar's sleeves and hair didn't stir at all.
The old scholar said softly, "Sages are hard to kill, but gentlemen are hard to keep alive."
"Among all the hundred schools, only we Confucians don't deliberately emphasize protectors of the Dao. The academies are the greatest protectors of scholars in this world. The three great academies of the Grand Vast Heaven, the seventy-two academies—all have such gentlemen who died before becoming sages. I believe these not-so-clever upright gentlemen are the backbone of our world. They can..."
At this point, the old scholar suddenly ran out of words. He turned his head and shouted, "Hey, big fellow! Come up with a phrase for me."
The Suishan Great God said calmly, "Standing tall and firm, reaching the sky and planting feet on the earth."
The old scholar slapped his thigh again. "Great excellence!"
The Suishan Great God suddenly said, "You've never been a proper Confucian gentleman."
The old scholar...
---
In the Confucian Temple, a sage emerged from his clay statue. The divine platform was extremely high, and the statue was very close to the Supreme Sage in the center. He was leading a young man who had followed him from another world to the Grand Vast Heaven.
After stepping over the threshold with the young man, the sage turned to look at one vacant statue position and said to the young man with a smile, "In the future, you may have a chance to contend with someone for that spot."