Chapter 395: A Bowl of Chicken Soup, Who Knows

Chapter 395: A Bowl of Chicken Soup, Who Knows

Leaving the Lion Garden path, passing a small lake and that stretch of emerald reed marsh, a turn would lead onto the official road toward the capital of Green Luan Nation. But as it happened, the first thing to emerge into view beyond the winding path through the reeds was someone riding an oxcart, dusty and travel-worn, just entering the path from the main road. The road was narrow and bumpy; the cart jolted, nearly throwing the green-robed man in the back clean off. He was shaken dizzy and disoriented, almost coming apart at the seams. Driving the cart was a boy who looked like a young attendant. He had probably been urged on endlessly by his master, was at an impatient age and temperament, and was still clumsy at handling the oxcart. The ox had bounded joyfully onto this small path, and the last thing they expected was that from the end of the path, beside the reed marsh of Lion Garden, a group of people would emerge, led by a little girl hopping and skipping, holding a walking staff. If they collided, wouldn't that be a disaster?

The young attendant panicked, and the green-robed man was even more frantic. One fumbled helplessly, the other shouted warnings, and so Pei Qian widened her eyes as she watched the oxcart, its route swaying erratically as the old ox dragged two big fools, charging headlong into the reed marsh and the lake.

Actually, Pei Qian had already dodged, standing in the middle of a large clump of reeds. Even if the cart had come straight on, it wouldn't have been a problem—it definitely wouldn't have hit her.

What, was someone taking a morning bath in the lake? Could they actually be a group of immortals, with an ox that could pull a cart walking on water, especially ethereal? Hadn't she herself ridden that earth-ox-like yellow cow before? It was truly miraculous, climbing mountains and crossing water, steady as could be.

But this scene before her didn't seem to be that at all. The big one and the little one, wailing and yelling, and then splash, water flew up, and they were gone without a trace.

Pei Qian shifted her feet, following the path the oxcart had crushed through the reeds. The entire cart had rushed straight into the water.

Pei Qian pinched her chin, falling into deep thought. She had heard that mountain immortals only needed a Water-Repelling Pearl to explore abysses, wade through water, catch dragons and grab flood dragons, as effortlessly as walking on flat ground.

Zhu Lian and Shi Rou flew over to save the people and the ox.

Chen Ping'an grabbed Pei Qian by the ear. "You need to watch where you're going."

Pei Qian rose on her tiptoes, begging for mercy loudly. "How was I supposed to know that oxcart wouldn't stay on the straight and narrow?! It was swaying back and forth like a drunkard, and just veered right into the ditch! Ouch, ouch, ouch... Master, I really did get out of the way... And oxcarts and mule carts, Master, you've seen them too, aren't they always slow? But this oxcart was so fierce, it was like it wanted to fly..."

Chen Ping'an let go and told Pei Qian to stand still. Pei Qian grimaced, gently rubbing her ear. It really hurt.

Sure enough, Zhu Lian had been a jinx, telling her not to get carried away.

Chen Ping'an breathed a slight sigh of relief. After Zhu Lian and Shi Rou entered the water, they quickly brought the master and servant, along with the ox and the cart, ashore.

The young man, still shaken, sat on the reeds that had been crushed by the cart and burst into loud sobs.

The old ox, after coming ashore, shook its body and happened to slap its tail across the young man's head, which finally stopped his crying.

The green-robed man was around thirty, looking young. After being rescued, he bowed and thanked Shi Rou.

Chen Ping'an walked over, clasped his hands, and apologized.

The green-robed man was deeply ashamed and quickly bowed again to apologize.

Finally, wiping the water from his face, the man's eyes lit up, and he asked Chen Ping'an, "Might you be Master Chen, who joined forces with the female Taoist immortal to rescue us at Lion Garden?"

Chen Ping'an nodded and then asked tentatively, "County Magistrate Liu?"

The green-robed man gave a hearty laugh. "I am Liu Qingfeng, Liu Qingshan's elder brother."

The eldest son of Elder Minister Liu, Liu Qingfeng, was now serving as a county magistrate. It wasn't exactly a meteoric rise, but he was considered a scholar-official with a smooth career.

But when one's father was Liu Jingting, a man whose official career was soaring and whose reputation in the scholar-official circles was immense, Liu Qingfeng seemed quite mediocre and ordinary. Liu Jingting, at this age, had already been on the verge of becoming the Vice Minister of Rites, a third-rank position in Green Luan Nation. Liu Jingting was also a recognized literary leader, the arbiter of the nation's refined culture. Looking at his eldest son, Liu Qingfeng, it was no wonder people lamented the contrast between a tiger father and a dog son.

It must be known that after Liu Jingting's death, he would undoubtedly receive the court's highest prestigious posthumous title. This was a foregone conclusion. Whether the character after "Wen" would be "Zheng," or "Zhong," or perhaps the slightly lesser "Gong" or "Cheng," all were possible. The first two required a special edict from the emperor and couldn't be decided by the officials. Previously, the court thought the former was more likely. But after his second son, Liu Qingshan, became lame, expectations were greatly lowered. Not to mention the rare "Wen Zheng" in Green Luan Nation's history, even "Wen Zhong" seemed uncertain.

Chen Ping'an called for Pei Qian.

Pei Qian, who had been standing as if stuck with an immortal's immobilization talisman, was pardoned. She ran all the way to Chen Ping'an's side, bowed to Liu Qingfeng and the young attendant, and loudly listed her many faults.

In her heart, though, Pei Qian didn't think she was that much at fault. She was also a bit annoyed that Liu Qingfeng was so useless. But since her master was angry, what could she do? Whether it was a simple apology or having to pay silver and take things out of her Multi-Treasure Box, Pei Qian could only obediently comply.

Liu Qingfeng quickly spoke up for Pei Qian, which made her feel a bit better. She thought this scholar-official, a county magistrate, was quite sensible.

Naturally, he then tried to persuade Chen Ping'an to return to Lion Garden with him. But when Chen Ping'an said he was going to the capital to see if he could catch the tail end of the Buddhist-Taoist Debate, Liu Qingfeng was too embarrassed to insist further.

Chen Ping'an first helped Liu Qingfeng fix the oxcart, then they bid each other farewell and continued on their respective journeys.

After turning onto the main road, Zhu Lian smiled. "I think this eldest son, Liu Qingfeng of Lion Garden, is more suited to be an official than his brother Liu Qingshan."

Chen Ping'an made no comment.

Liu Qingshan was more bookish, more talented, full of strategies, and a man of integrity. His elder brother Liu Qingfeng seemed less sharp, almost without edges.

But Chen Ping'an felt that both brothers were the kind of scholars this world needed. That was all. As for who would achieve more in the future, in the end, weren't they both still one family in Lion Garden?

Chen Ping'an asked, "Pei Qian, do you know what's most admirable about County Magistrate Liu?"

Pei Qian blurted out, "That he's an official with a good temper and no airs?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "It's that he acted genuinely from his heart, willingly putting himself in danger to give way to you."

Pei Qian said, "Oh," half-understanding. "Master, I'll remember that. Like in Lion Garden a couple of days ago when we were sunning the books and bamboo slips, on a hot sunny day, I'll flip these things over from time to time."

Chen Ping'an hummed in acknowledgment, ruffled her hair, and said no more.

Zhu Lian smiled. "Young Master, maybe the old servant can have a chance to spar with you sometime later?"

Chen Ping'an answered without hesitation, "Sure."

Zhu Lian then turned to Pei Qian. "See that? That's acting genuinely from the heart. You need to know that sparring for nurturing martial arts between pure martial artists—if it's just a light touch, a gentle strike, it's utterly useless. To be effective, the old servant has to use his real skills. When he uses real skills, his fists carry killing intent, his body carries murderous intent. So what if this old servant had plotted all along, hiding his murderous intent deep inside? But the Young Master still trusts me. That's what's called acting genuinely from the heart..."

Pei Qian, still half-understanding, thought about it carefully. "Old Cook, after you finish reading a book at Lion Garden every day, you mutter to yourself that having no money in your pocket makes you anxious. You worry that when we get to the capital, you might miss out on some wonderful books. You also said that the erotic paintings of Green Luan Nation are the best in Bottle Gourd Continent, and it would be heart-wrenching to enter a mountain of treasures and return empty-handed... Tell me honestly, are you trying to trick my master into giving you money to buy books and erotic paintings?"

Zhu Lian looked embarrassed, rubbing his hands and saying nothing.

Chen Ping'an made an immediate decision. "Sparring is fine. No money!"

Zhu Lian got anxious. "Young Master, we did make some money on this trip to Lion Garden! Even if this old servant didn't do much this time, the sun and moon bear witness to my unwavering loyalty!"

Chen Ping'an said to Pei Qian, "You tell him."

Pei Qian yelled out loudly, "No money! Once money goes into my master's pocket, it's not money anymore!"

Shi Rou, walking at the back, sighed inwardly.

Look at them. Old habits die hard. Here they go again.

Liu Qingfeng was being endlessly nagged by his young attendant along the way. Liu Qingfeng didn't talk back, nor did he pull rank. They were both soaking wet. When they reached the vicinity of Lion Garden on the oxcart, the young man saw the familiar outline of Lion Garden past the rocky cliff and the old tree. His complaints vanished instantly. The boy had grown up here and was quite fond of Zhao Ya, his childhood sweetheart.

Liu Jingting, the old elder minister, had five children, from oldest to youngest, named "Feng, Ya, Shan, Qing, Yu."

After changing into clean clothes, Liu Qingfeng went straight to his brother's study. The young attendant said that the master was already waiting there.

The three, father and sons, sat down.

Seeing Liu Qingfeng, Liu Jingting looked relieved. This relief was no less than the relief he felt when he saw the demon captured alive.

Probably no one could imagine—not Chen Ping'an, Liu Boqi, or even most people in Lion Garden—that the true pillar of Lion Garden was not its master, Liu Jingting, but Liu Qingfeng, a man of low official rank and average literary reputation. When Liu Boqi had secretly watched the three drinking, he had been mostly focused on Liu Qingshan and hadn't tasted the true flavor of that drinking session. But this gradual shift in the mindset of the father and his two sons was a natural progression, not something Liu Qingfeng deliberately engineered. The eldest son, Liu Qingfeng, who valued pragmatism and practical achievements, had long ago taken on a role similar to that of a guest advisor or strategist to Liu Jingting. While Liu Qingshan spent most of his time at Lion Garden, immersed in scholarship except for his travels and imperial examinations, Liu Qingfeng was different. When Liu Jingting served as an official in the capital, Liu Qingfeng, as the eldest son, accompanied him at the capital residence. Thus, he had become involved in his father's governmental affairs much earlier than Liu Qingshan and was far more familiar with the changing tides of the Green Luan Nation's court.

Liu Qingfeng said with a smile, "I've carefully read the letter you sent to the county office."

Liu Qingshan noticed his brother smiling at him and immediately felt a bit uneasy.

Liu Qingfeng suddenly burst into loud laughter.

Liu Qingshan's face flushed slightly. "Brother!"

Liu Jingting sighed with emotion. "Regarding the matter of the Willow Tree Grandmother Spirit, if I had listened to your advice earlier and had an open and honest talk with her, perhaps the relationship wouldn't be as strained as it is now."

Liu Qingfeng comforted him. "Father, whether for humans or gods receiving incense offerings, one's nature is ultimately the root of the matter. It's not something we can change with just a few words of heartfelt advice about this Lion Garden incident. Fortunately, the Willow Tree Grandmother Spirit's fortunes are tied to ours, the Liu Clan of Lion Garden. This disaster could serve as a warning to her, turning misfortune into a blessing. And for that, we have to thank that chivalrous Master Chen, as well as the female Taoist that Qingshan knows... whose surname is Liu, what was her name?"

Liu Qingshan was furious and embarrassed. "Liu Boqi! Brother, are you done or not?!"

Liu Qingfeng suppressed his smile and asked seriously, "Do you truly like her?"

Liu Qingshan looked a bit awkward, glancing around.

Liu Jingting hesitated, then said helplessly, "That female Taoist is ultimately a mountain cultivator. Regarding the Lion Garden matter, no amount of gratitude is too much. But when it comes to your brother's lifelong affair, sigh, it's a tangled mess."

As the Vice Minister of Rites of Green Luan Nation, he was not unfamiliar with the immortal families within the nation's borders or passing wandering immortals. And since the Tang emperors had always been strong-willed, he, as a vice minister, had always maintained a relatively firm stance when dealing with registered immortals and wilderness cultivators.

But even a clear-sighted official found it hard to judge family affairs.

Liu Qingfeng gave his father a look to signal that he understood, then said to Liu Qingshan, "Qingshan, I believe you. If you like her, you truly like her. Appearance, background, character—these are all things you've considered carefully, and I trust your judgment. As your elder brother, I won't discuss these things, nor will I interfere with you two. So let's assume that the female Taoist named Liu Boqi from another continent might eventually marry into Lion Garden and become your lawful wife. Then we have to consider two things. First, Liu Boqi is a cultivator, so we don't expect her to deal with trivial daily matters. But is she willing to cultivate at Lion Garden and truly treat you as her husband with the proper rites of a married couple? Or, after spending time together, will she act superior as a mountain immortal, placing herself above you and even interfering in Lion Garden's household affairs?

"Second, Qingshan, has she ever said anything that hinted at you following her to cultivate immortal arts? Asking you to abandon all your sacred books, leave Lion Garden, renounce the world, and ascend the mountain?

"Love between a man and a woman often seems beautiful and touching at first, like this Lion Garden, built among green mountains and clear waters, a paradise on earth. Generations revered that land deity, the Willow Tree Grandmother Spirit. But when the moment of truth came, what happened? If it weren't for the fact that the Willow Tree Grandmother Spirit couldn't easily relocate, she would have long abandoned Lion Garden and fled far away to avoid the disaster. After seven generations of Liu Clan goodwill and incense offerings, what did those words from the Willow Tree Grandmother Spirit in the ancestral hall, in front of so many ancestral tablets, do? Weren't they just as hurtful? So, Qingshan, I'm not telling you not to be with Liu Boqi. I just want you to understand that the mountain world and the mortal world are two different realms. A scholarly family and a Taoist cultivator are two different ways of life. 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do.' After you marry, will it be Liu Boqi accommodating you, or you, Liu Qingshan, submitting to her? Have you thought about it? And if you have, have you thought it through clearly?

"Yes, Liu Boqi has done Lion Garden a great service. She subdued the demon, saved our Liu Clan from imminent collapse, and even spent a fortune afterward, paying so much spirit money on our behalf. But Qingshan, you need to be clear about one thing: our Liu Clan is not unwilling to repay this great debt of gratitude. From Father, to me as your elder brother, to the entire Lion Garden, you don't have to bear this burden alone. If one generation of the Liu Clan cannot repay the debt, then two generations, three generations. As long as Liu Boqi is willing to wait, we are willing to keep repaying."

Liu Qingfeng sighed. "Don't blame me for being so worldly and calculating, seeing the heart of a gentleman with the mind of a petty man. The truth is, the more we think ahead today, the fewer worries we'll have in the years to come. After a thousand words and ten thousand sentences, I just want you, Qingshan, to live well. At the same time, of course, I have my selfish motives. As your elder brother, I don't think I have the ability to uphold the Liu Clan's family scholarship and tradition. That legacy still needs you to inherit."

Liu Qingshan stood up. Because of his lame leg, his shoulder tilted slightly. With a free and easy expression, he bowed. "I'll go ask her clearly right now."

A complex look flashed in Liu Qingfeng's eyes. He said softly, "There are many immortals in this world, Qingshan. Don't worry, it can be cured. I can guarantee you that."

Liu Qingshan thought his brother was just trying to comfort him, smiled, and left.

But Liu Jingting, with his keen official's eye developed over years of civil service, knew his eldest son's nature best—extraordinarily calm and broad-minded, far beyond ordinary men. So the old Vice Minister's expression changed slightly.

After Liu Qingshan left the study and closed the door.

Liu Qingfeng, looking tired, said with a smile, "On the way here, I happened to run into that Chen Ping'an."

Liu Jingting suppressed the shock in his heart and said with a smile, "What do you think of him?"

Liu Qingfeng nodded. "An extremely rare mountain person. He's more like a proper scholar from a prestigious clan."

Liu Jingting smiled. "That's true."

Liu Qingfeng seemed to have something to say but hesitated.

Liu Jingting stood up and put his hand on his eldest son's shoulder. "Between family, there's no need for formalities. In time, Qingshan will understand your good intentions. As for me, to be honest, I don't think you're right, but I also don't think you're wrong."

Liu Qingfeng's expression darkened.

Liu Jingting said, "Go see Qingqing. She's close to Qingshan but in awe of you. So some things are best said by you."

Liu Qingfeng nodded. "I'll sit for a while. Then I'll go pay my respects to the two masters first, and then I'll go to the embroidery pavilion."

Liu Jingting sighed. "That's only right."

The old Vice Minister left the study first.

Liu Qingfeng sat alone in the chair, turning to look at the couplet.

Brushstrokes, an army of a thousand. Poetry and prose, a cavalry of ten thousand horses. Virtue aligns with past and present. Collect books to teach your children and grandchildren.

This wasn't actually written by Liu Qingshan, the owner of the study. It was written by his elder brother, Liu Qingfeng, as a gift for his younger brother's coming-of-age ceremony.

Liu Qingfeng, looking dejected, left the study. He went to pay his respects to the old master Fu Sheng and the middle-aged Confucian scholar, Master Liu. The former wasn't at the family school, only the latter was. Liu Qingfeng asked him some academic questions, then took his leave and went to the embroidery pavilion to find his younger sister, Liu Qingqing.

After Liu Qingfeng left, the old master Fu Sheng appeared out of thin air.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar asked, "Master, is Liu Qingfeng right or wrong to drag Liu Qingshan into the whirlpool of Green Luan Nation's three-religion conflict?"

Fu Sheng said with a smile, "Hasn't someone said it? Yesterday's affairs died yesterday. Today's affairs are born today. Whether today's right and wrong will be tomorrow's right and wrong remains to be seen. It still depends on the person. Besides, this is the Liu family's private matter. And coincidentally, I want to take this opportunity to see how much of the sages' books Liu Qingfeng has truly absorbed. A scholar's integrity is, after all, forged only through hardship and tempering."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar was helpless. The Master was using Buddhist sayings to comment on the actions of a Confucian disciple. It wasn't proper. But he knew that the Master, with his supremely revered status in the Central Earth True Sect's Confucian Temple, saw things from a very distant perspective. As long as Liu Qingfeng's path didn't deviate drastically, the Master wouldn't interfere. If Liu Qingfeng hadn't stepped forward in the ancestral hall that time and refuted the Willow Tree Grandmother Spirit, then Liu Qingfeng would only ever have known that the two tutors at the family school had stayed at Lion Garden for so many years, and then one day returned to their hometowns and were never heard from again.

All opportunities in this world are like this. They may vary in scale, and the various schools of thought and mountain immortals may take on disciples based on different paths and criteria, but the essence is the same. It still depends on whether the person being tested can seize the opportunity. Taoist immortals particularly favor this method. Compared to Master Fu Sheng's approach of observing the natural flow, their method is more arduous and complex: honor and disgrace, life and death, separation, father-son and husband-wife bonds, myriad attachments, countless temptations—all may need to be tested. In history, some famous disciple-taking processes were extremely lengthy, even involving reincarnation and practice in blessed lands.

Heart-stopping and magnificent.

Fu Sheng suddenly said, "Actually, Liu Qingfeng is suitable to be your direct disciple."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar shook his head. "I know this man has a good nature and lofty ambitions, and he can handle trivial matters. Unfortunately, he's not the right person to inherit this small branch of my studies."

Fu Sheng smiled and said no more.

He didn't say it outright.

When a master imparts teachings to a disciple, is it really just about the disciple listening to the master's instruction?

Can't the disciple also fill in the gaps in the master's knowledge?

But these things can't be spoken by an outsider. One must realize them oneself.

The Ultimate Sage once had a concern: The higher the Confucian sages' knowledge and status become, the further their divine positions drift from the mortal world. Then what happens to the mortal world?

The Ritual Sage, the Secondary Sage, and he, Fu Sheng—or Fu Sheng—and those two Vice-Chancellors of the Confucian sect, each had their own answers.

But the Ultimate Sage still furrowed his brow.

Later, that old scholar from the humble alley burst onto the scene.

That era was radiant.

Twice during the Three Religions Debates, those stunningly brilliant Buddhist Sons and Taoist Seeds from the Buddhist and Taoist schools resolutely switched allegiance to the Confucian sect. There was more than just one or two.

A young immortal from Jade Capital who had participated in the debate once asked a question: "Since you Confucians advocate that human nature is inherently good, and since everyone is already inherently pure and good, then what is the merit of your Confucian civilizing influence?"

The middle-aged Confucian scholar suddenly asked, "What if Liu Qingshan first travels far and wide with the female Taoist from the Master Saber Hall, Liu Boqi, and they eventually become husband and wife?"

Old Master Fu Sheng, or rather the great Confucian sage Fu Sheng, said with a smile, "So what? The divisions between the three religions only matter when it comes to serious scholarly debate."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar had another doubt.

The old master nodded. "Liu Qingfeng has more or less guessed our identities. That's why Lion Garden has a fallback plan, and that's why there's this wager over literary fortune between Liu Qingfeng and the Great Li Embroidered Tiger."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar snorted coldly.

But the old master said wistfully, "If that old scholar from the humble alley had a few more disciples like Cui Chan or Liu Qingshan back then, he might not have lost... He might still have lost, but at least not so badly."

Liu Qingfeng stood at the bottom of the embroidery pavilion, asking the maid Zhao Ya to call his sister, Liu Qingqing, downstairs.

Zhao Ya was hesitant.

These past few days, after the young lady had learned the general truth, she had been heartbroken. Especially after knowing that her second brother, Liu Qingshan, had become lame because of her, she had even had thoughts of ending her life. If Zhao Ya hadn't discovered it quickly and removed all the scissors and such, Lion Garden might have gone from joy to sorrow. So she stayed by her side day and night, never leaving her for a moment. Over these two days, the young lady had become more haggard than during the disaster itself, so thin she was almost skin and bones.

Liu Qingfeng said calmly, "Go call her downstairs."

Zhao Ya was startled and immediately turned and ran upstairs.

Liu Qingqing came downstairs timidly, not even daring to let Zhao Ya support her.

Liu Qingfeng looked at his sister and said nothing.

Liu Qingqing lowered her head, feeling terrified.

She had feared her eldest brother since she was a child, even though he was clearly inferior to Liu Qingshan in every way.

Liu Qingfeng softened his tone. "The sky isn't falling. I'll take a walk with you."

Half an hour later, Zhao Ya stood anxiously at the embroidery pavilion, looking out.

She saw that when her young lady returned, there were still traces of tears on her face, but it seemed she had resolved her inner conflict.

Lifting her skirt, Liu Qingqing climbed up to the embroidery pavilion. Zhao Ya followed, completely bewildered.

Liu Qingqing suddenly asked with a smile, "Ya'er, will you come with me to cultivate on the mountain?"

Zhao Ya was stunned, looking at her young lady, who was no longer lifeless. She nodded.

Liu Qingfeng walked alone in Lion Garden.

To become a pure Confucian, to take one's scholarship to the highest and greatest level—that was no longer possible for him.

Since he, Liu Qingfeng, had taken that step, his life would inevitably be spent crawling and struggling in the mud.

Liu Qingfeng felt a bitter sorrow in his heart that he couldn't express.

A scholar: who wouldn't want to immerse himself in his study, writing moral essays that would be remembered for a hundred generations?

A scholar: who wouldn't want disciples all over the world, to be revered as the arbiter of literature and the leader of the scholarly world?

A scholar: who wouldn't want to be incorruptible, to purify the origin of the Confucian lineage and open up new horizons?

But officials with the hardest time just maintaining their own integrity—someone still had to do it. The trivial, practical matters, haggling over every last coin for the common people—someone still had to do it.

Fortunately, it was said that when scholarship is pursued to its utmost, one could still manage both scholarship and practical achievements without conflict.

At the small bridge over the flowing water, Liu Qingfeng turned around and saw Liu Qingshan and the female Taoist walking side by side towards him.

Finally, Liu Qingshan walked over alone and said with a smile, "I want to travel to Bottle Gourd Continent with Liu Boqi first, to visit Viewing Lake Academy, the Cliff Academy of Great Sui, and the newly built academy in Dragon Spring County, Great Li, for study tours."

Liu Qingfeng asked with a smile, "Have you thought it through? If you have, remember to talk to the two masters first and see what they think."

Liu Qingshan hummed in acknowledgment. "Liu Boqi says my leg can be cured, but I don't think we need to rush. Otherwise, I'd owe her another favor. If, by then..."

Liu Qingfeng teased, "If you're a family by then, there's no need to worry so much."

Liu Qingshan turned to leave.

Liu Qingfeng suddenly called out to his younger brother and said, "On behalf of our Liu ancestors and all the scholars of Green Luan Nation, thank you. The pure Confucian spirit of the Liu Clan remains undiminished from years past. All the scholars of Green Luan Nation can hold their heads high."

Liu Qingshan looked puzzled. "Why is that? Brother, what exactly are you talking about? I don't understand?"

Liu Qingfeng helped Liu Qingshan straighten his collar and said with a gentle smile, "Silly boy, don't worry about these things. Just focus on your studies. Strive to become a Confucian sage someday and bring glory to our Liu family."

Liu Qingshan joked, "Brother, have you become stupid from being an official? You're only a county magistrate now. What will you do when you become a vice minister or minister?"

Liu Qingfeng smiled. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Liu Qingfeng asked, "When you go to bid farewell to the two masters, can I have a word with Liu Boqi? Don't worry, just a few sentences."

Liu Qingshan nodded. "That's fine."

Liu Qingshan went and told Liu Boqi, who agreed. While Liu Qingshan went to find Old Master Fu and Master Liu.

Liu Qingfeng led Liu Boqi towards the Liu Clan ancestral hall.

Along the way, Liu Qingfeng didn't speak.

Liu Boqi, for once, felt a little uneasy in her heart.

It was mainly because, after falling in love with Liu Qingshan at first sight, she always felt a bit inferior in status when dealing with Liu Qingfeng and Liu Jingting.

But Liu Boqi also had a strange intuition. This Liu Qingfeng might not be simple.

Liu Qingfeng stopped outside the ancestral hall door and asked, "Liu Boqi, if my brother Liu Qingshan only had the short lifespan of an ordinary mortal scholar, what would you do?"

Liu Boqi replied, "I am already an Earth Immortal in cultivation, and it won't be difficult for me to ascend to the Upper Five Realms in the future. So I am willing to spend a hundred years of mundane time with Liu Qingshan."

Liu Qingfeng asked again, "And what if Liu Qingshan's future is bright and he is determined to achieve the Three Immortalities of our Confucian school, with a real hope of doing so? What would you do then?"

Liu Boqi replied, "A wife follows her husband, for better or worse. Anyone who dares to obstruct my husband Liu Qingshan's Great Way will first have to ask if my saber spirit Ying and my natal armor A agree."

Liu Qingfeng shook his head.

Liu Boqi frowned. "Then what do you want me to do?"

Liu Qingfeng said softly, "When great events loom, especially life-and-death decisions, I hope that you, my future sister-in-law, can consider things from Liu Qingshan's perspective. Don't let your first thought be, 'I, Liu Boqi, think this is best for Liu Qingshan, so I'll just do it for him.' The Great Way is rugged, and fighting and killing are inevitable. But since you yourself said a wife follows her husband, for better or worse, I still hope you can truly understand what Liu Qingshan thinks and seeks. So I can tell you now: in the future, you will inevitably suffer some grievances, even great ones."

When Liu Boqi heard the phrase "future sister-in-law," she felt very awkward at first. But after hearing the rest, she was left with nothing but sincere admiration. She smiled and said, "Don't worry. These words convince me, completely! I'm a stubborn person, but I can tell good words from bad!"

Liu Qingfeng, as if a heavy burden had been lifted, said with a smile, "My brother has very good eyesight."

Liu Boqi gestured towards the ancestral hall. "You are a mountain immortal. Bowing three times to our Liu Clan ancestral hall will suffice."

Liu Boqi did as she was told.

But she found that Liu Qingfeng also bowed three times from a distance.

Liu Boqi felt a heavy weight in her heart.

Liu Qingfeng said softly, "If nothing unexpected happens, I will soon be removed from the Liu Clan genealogy. At that time, I will no longer be Liu Qingshan's elder brother. If Liu Qingshan receives a letter from home then and wants to give up his travels and return to Lion Garden to confront me, no matter whether you are in Bottle Gourd Continent or the Central Earth at the time, if he insists on returning, you must stop him and protect him as he continues his ten-thousand-mile study tour."

Although Liu Boqi did not know the reason, she nodded, then said with a bitter smile, "So quickly I'm cast as the villain? You certainly don't stand on ceremony."

Liu Qingfeng changed the subject. "I heard you gave the Willow Tree Grandmother Spirit a good scolding?"

Liu Boqi began to feel guilty.

Liu Qingfeng narrowed his eyes and smiled. "When I was very young, I wanted to do that. I thought I'd have to wait another seven or eight years to do it. So thank you again."

It was only at this moment that Liu Boqi began to fully identify with the "Liu Clan family tradition."

In the distance, Liu Qingshan limped towards the ancestral hall.

He saw his brother and his beloved woman talking happily. If his brother agreed, then the marriage between him and Liu Boqi should be secure. Liu Qingshan smiled, feeling that there were no more difficult things in the world for this young scholar.

Chen Ping'an and his group entered the capital of Green Luan Nation smoothly.

This was the first time since Old Dragon City that he had felt the bustling prosperity of the human world.

Chen Ping'an did end up giving Zhu Lian some gold and silver, letting him go buy the paintings and calligraphy that Shi Rou detested so much.

Chen Ping'an himself found a century-old shop and bought some fine rice paper—you get what you pay for, and one piece of silver was worth one piece of goods.

Before entering the city, Chen Ping'an had emptied his bamboo case in a secluded spot, putting everything into his Inch-Range Items.

Earlier, at the Hundred Flowers Garden Inn, Cui Dongshan had mentioned the inside story of this debate, including the obscure White Cloud Temple in Green Luan Nation. So Chen Ping'an deliberately avoided that place.

He felt that his good luck had been mostly used up at Lion Garden. He shouldn't be too conspicuous and actively step into the sights of the Yunlin Jiang Clan and the Tang emperor of Green Luan Nation.

While eating a hearty meal in a noisy restaurant, the patrons, all locals of the capital, were talking excitedly and animatedly about the Buddhist-Taoist Debate, which was nearing its end but not yet truly finished. Whether they were devout Buddhists or inclined towards Taoism, their words were filled with the pride of being subjects of Green Luan Nation. This was one of the manifestations of a nation's strength and fortune.

Chen Ping'an had seen this before: in the wind and snow on the scouts of the Great Li border army, on the faces of the common people in the capital of Great Sui, on the young girl in the carriage in Old Dragon City, and at Hanging Down Mountain.

The nearby tables were all discussing a clever incident that had just happened in the capital and was widely circulated.

Chen Ping'an listened. Seeing Chen Ping'an listening so intently, Pei Qian barely spared the remaining half of the delicious roast chicken and pricked up her ears.

Zhu Lian secretly reached out with his chopsticks, trying to snatch a drumstick into his bowl. Pei Qian, with her quick eyes and hands, blocked it with her chopsticks. The old and the young glared at each other, their chopsticks flying. When Chen Ping'an reached for a vegetable, they called a truce. When Chen Ping'an lowered his head to eat his rice, Pei Qian and Zhu Lian resumed their contest.

Chen Ping'an couldn't be bothered with these two clowns. He was just curious about that seemingly coincidental exchange of wit.

It turned out that the capital had experienced a heavy rain the day before. A scholar entering the city was taking shelter from the rain under the eaves. A monk stood in the rain holding an umbrella.

Thus, a wonderfully subtle conversation took place. The content was brief, but the meaning was profound, and the drinkers near Chen Ping'an had already ferreted out countless implications from it.

At the time, the scholar asked the monk if he could give him a ride to avoid the rain. The monk said the scholar was in a rainless place under the eaves, so he, who was in the rain, did not need to ferry him across. The scholar then stepped out from under the eaves and stood in the rain. The monk then shouted, "Go find your own umbrella!" In the end, the scholar returned to the eaves, utterly dejected.

The drinkers mostly marvelled at the profound Dharma of this Zen master, calling this true compassion, true Buddha Dharma. Because even though the scholar was also in the rain, the reason the monk wasn't getting wet was because he had an umbrella in his hand. And that umbrella represented the Buddha Dharma of universal salvation. What the scholar truly needed was not for the master to ferry him across, but that he was missing the Buddha Dharma within himself to cross himself. So, he was finally awakened by that shout.

It was so hard to snatch a drumstick from under Pei Qian's nose that Zhu Lian gave up and poured himself a bowl of chicken soup. He took a sip, smacked his lips, and said, "Doesn't taste like much."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "Deep down, you're still a scholar, so naturally, you find it unremarkable."

Zhu Lian nodded. "Exactly. Labor-intensive and thankless. If it were you, Young Master, or the Liu brothers, you would dutifully take out your umbrella, shield the scholar from the wind and rain, and escort him home. On the way, you might step into a puddle, or the man's shoulder might get wet by the rain, and he still wouldn't appreciate your kindness. If it were those stinking Taoist priests, they probably wouldn't even have this issue. They wouldn't even look at the man under the eaves. They'd just walk away."

Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, then asked with a smile, "What if, after that shout, the master had then lent his umbrella to the scholar and walked the whole way with him through the wind and rain? How would this bowl of chicken soup taste then?"

Zhu Lian swirled the soup in his bowl and smiled. "It might taste much better."

Shi Rou finally understood.

Pei Qian was listening in a daze, and besides, she was busy gnawing on her drumstick.

Chen Ping'an said to Pei Qian with a smile, "Don't just eat drumsticks. Eat more rice."

Pei Qian nodded vigorously, leaned back slightly, patted her round belly, and said triumphantly, "Master, I haven't eaten lightly at all!"

This Buddhist-Taoist Debate in the capital of Green Luan Nation had also produced many strange incidents.

There were monks who smashed Buddhist statues for firewood, and monks who openly drank alcohol and ate meat in the marketplace, shouting, "Alcohol and meat pass through the bowels, but the Buddha remains in the heart." It was truly a thunderous roar that inevitably provoked deep thought.

The Taoists of Green Luan Nation, on the other hand, had surprisingly few shocking words or deeds. They were mild and unassuming. Moreover, it was said that the true immortals of the famous Taoist temples were gradually losing ground in the doctrinal debates.

Especially the koan of the high monk of White Water Temple south of the capital killing the cat. It seemed at first like a breakthrough point for the Taoist immortals to attack the Buddhists. But the eminent monks seemed to have anticipated it. Through a solemn exposition of the Dharma, they refuted the Taoists until they were speechless.

Chen Ping'an listened to those rumors and let them be.

After lunch, he took Pei Qian and the others on a shopping trip.

He bought a pair of celadon glazed Go container jars. Compared to ordinary jars, their form was large, but they were still exquisitely elegant and refined, which was quite difficult. The shopkeeper said they had originally been made for the imperial court of Cloud Sky Nation in very limited quantities. That was probably true.

Chen Ping'an had a background in porcelain making, so he could trust his own judgment. The key was that the jars came with their original lids, not later additions. So they were expensive. For a pair, the shop asked for fifty taels of silver. Chen Ping'an paid willingly.

Then he bought a small hand-twisted gourd for Pei Qian, elegantly called "Gold in the Grass." It was tiny but had an excellent form. Back on the wall of Lion Garden, the female Taoist Liu Boqi had used a small gourd like this to collect the true form of that slug demon.

Of course, this small yellow-skinned gourd was just an ordinary toy for worldly amusement.

Chen Ping'an liked it at first sight. Seeing that Pei Qian couldn't take her eyes off it either, he bought it.

Because in Pei Qian's mind, a wanderer in the martial world was probably like her master, Chen Ping'an: you had to have something to hold wine and drink from.

This little yellow gourd, which looked terribly expensive, Pei Qian felt was just the right age for her. Of course, she didn't dare to ask for it. When she saw Chen Ping'an take the initiative to buy it, she immediately grinned from ear to ear, carefully holding it in her hands, shouting that she had wine to drink.

Then came a knock on her head that made her crouch down on the spot. Even though her head hurt, Pei Qian was still very happy.

White Water Temple. The white-robed monk sat by the well that had been sealed for years, muttering, "Lost. Lost. It's not the Dharma that lost; it's us who lost."

The young monk, his face covered in tears, looked into the distance. "If the people of the world imitate me, it's like entering a den of demons. I was wrong. I was wrong."

The White Cloud Temple in the capital. A middle-aged temple master was being scolded from afar by a woman from the neighborhood whose child had lost his kite. He hid far away. A little boy, crying, ran over and found his master, the temple master. Heartbroken, he said, "Master, why don't we just cut down those few trees? The neighbors are always cursing us, and our incense offerings have all been scared away by the scolding. Soon we won't have any more incense money! We'll go hungry! And you won't be able to afford books anymore!"

The middle-aged temple master, of course, wouldn't cut down those ancient trees. But his young disciple was crying so sadly, he could only comfort him with kind words. He took the little boy's hand and led him to the study. The little boy sniffled. Having weathered many storms as a young Taoist of White Cloud Temple, he quickly regained his childlike innocence after his sadness passed. He was still better off—some of his senior brothers had even had their faces scratched by shrewish women complaining about their morning bells and evening drums disturbing their sleep. Anyway, whenever the senior brothers of the temple went out, they were like rats crossing the street. They were used to it. The temple master said this was cultivation. On hot summer days, when everyone couldn't sleep, the master couldn't sleep either. He would run out of the house and, with the boys, fan themselves under the shade of the big trees. The boy would ask: Master, we are cultivators, we've done so many rituals, we should find peace in our hearts and naturally be cool, right? So why are we still hot?

The master couldn't give a proper answer. He just smiled.

And the little boy would angrily snatch the fan from his master's hand. But luckily, the temple master never got angry.

That time, having settled his young disciple whose mood had brightened after the rain, the middle-aged Taoist pulled out a Confucian elementary book for the child to read.

The middle-aged temple master continued flipping through the Legalist book on his table.

Earlier, he had read a line: "Governing the state is like washing one's hair: even though one may lose some hair, one must still do it."

He then picked up his brush to annotate it. To be precise, he was once again annotating his reading notes. Since the book's pages were already so full that there was no room for a needle, he had to use the cheapest paper, so he could write his thoughts and then insert them into the book.

The little boy didn't much like reading. He preferred it when his master told him stories from the books. So he put down the book, walked over to his master, and saw him writing like flying, filling the page with things he couldn't understand. Stretching up on his tiptoes, he looked at the book spread open on the table, then turned to his master. Curiously, he asked, "Master, what are you writing?"

The middle-aged temple master put down his brush, placing it on his homemade wooden brush rest, and said with a smile, "I came across a saying from the Legalists again, and it stirred something in my heart. I'm just writing down some thoughts so that when I flip back to this page next time, I can reflect on myself. I can know what I thought yesterday and use it to examine my thoughts tomorrow. After repeated scrutiny and consideration, knowledge can transform from the sages' words in the hundred schools' books into our own knowledge."

The little boy said, "Oh," but he was still a bit unhappy. "Master, we don't want to cut down the trees, and the neighbors despise us and hate us. It seems like everything we do is wrong. When will this ever end? We senior brothers are so pitiful."

The middle-aged temple master, with a kind expression, smiled apologetically and said, "Don't blame the neighbors. If you must have any complaints, blame your master. Because Master... still doesn't know."

The little boy scratched his head. The Taoists of White Cloud Temple all wore square scarves on their heads; they didn't wear Hibiscus, Fishtail, or Lotus Taoist crowns. The boy looked at him with pleading eyes. "Master, when will you finally know the answer to the problem?"

Although what the master and disciple each meant by "know" was vastly different, the middle-aged temple master still sighed patiently and said, "I still don't know."

The little boy suddenly laughed and patted his master's arm. "Master, take your time. We're not in a hurry. Do you want me to rub your arm for you?"

Having finished his annotation on that sentence, the middle-aged Taoist thought for a moment, then took out a Buddhist classic from the table. It recorded nearly a hundred Buddhist koans. But he didn't open it immediately. He suddenly laughed. "The Buddha should be more worried than me. If the Buddha isn't worried, what am I worried about?"

The little boy suddenly said softly, "Oh, Master, Senior Brother said the rice jar is empty."

The middle-aged temple master nodded slowly. "I know."

The little boy rolled his eyes.

Master always did this. In the end, their White Cloud Temple was still robbing Peter to pay Paul, just muddling through.

But the little boy suddenly noticed a strange thing. It seemed like a golden breeze had drifted in through the window, flipping through the book on his master's table. Then it felt like the whole room had been turned upside down.

The little boy blinked hard, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him.

But his master had closed his eyes, as if he had fallen asleep, dozing off. Master must be too tired from reading, the little boy thought. He tiptoed out of the room and gently closed the door.

Chen Ping'an raised his head and looked somewhere.

Pei Qian asked, "What's wrong?"

Chen Ping'an smiled. "Nothing."