Chapter 850: Chen Eleven
Hearing the green-clad boy's heartfelt words, the middle-aged monk spoke first, "Then let's take another look."
The old master smiled, "I think this is already quite virtuous. After waiting over ten thousand years, why rush?"
The Dao Ancestor nodded and said to the green ox with a smile, "Since there's nothing urgent for now, feel free to wander. Just remember not to cross boundaries. Also, be magnanimous. Don't hold grudges over today's events. Being too petty is good for cultivation but not for one's character."
Without the suppression of the Great Dao, the green ox immediately transformed into human form—a tall, elderly Daoist with a gaunt yet dignified bearing, full of authority.
He was none other than the old temple master of the East Sea Observatory Temple, the unquestioned old heavenly lord of Lotus Flower Blessed Land. Since Lotus Flower Blessed Land was connected to the Lotus Cave Heaven, he would occasionally spar with the Dao Ancestor in terms of Daoist methods.
The old temple master was also the behind-the-scenes master who had created the four figures in the scroll, including Zhu Lian and Sui Youbian, and was recognized as one of the most powerful Fourteen Realm Great Cultivators in the world.
He was among the most senior and oldest beings in heaven and earth, of the same generation as the Great Ancestor of Tuoyue Mountain, Bai Ze, and Chu Sheng.
Setting aside age and speaking only of "Dao age" in terms of cultivation years, Liu Shiliu of the Literary Sage lineage and Zhang Lu, who concealed his identity on the Sword Qi Great Wall, were both juniors.
Every time the old temple master went on a distant journey, it was like a poem about wandering immortals.
Moreover, in ancient times, beside the Fallen Treasure Beach, the Blue Abyss Cave was invincible once it emerged from the cave, and when it could spare someone, it would not.
Until it encountered a human cultivator in the form of a youth, it was reduced to a mount. From then on, there was the saying "stinky old ox-nose Daoist" among the people.
Chen Lingjun slightly raised his head and glanced with the corner of his eye. Compared to Brother Jia from Dragon Riding Alley, this one was indeed more immortal and ethereal.
If the old Daoist had appeared in this form from the start, Chen Lingjun would probably have mistaken the ox-riding Dao Ancestor for a fire-tending boy beside this old immortal, handling trivial tasks like tending the furnace and waving a fan.
The old temple master glanced at the green-clad boy still sitting on the ground—a bold little crawling insect.
Chen Lingjun immediately lowered his head, shifted his butt, and turned to look elsewhere. If I can't see you, you can't see me.
The old temple master said with a smile, "Daoist Jingqing, your master lost face in Lotus Flower Blessed Land, and you've picked it all up."
Chen Lingjun didn't raise his head, hanging it low, and muttered sullenly, "Ignorance is not a crime. If the old immortal holds a grudge over such a small matter, then it wouldn't be so immortal and ethereal."
But that was what he said. If the Three Teachings Patriarchs weren't present, Chen Lingjun would have been busy wiping the old immortal's shoes and pounding his legs by now. As for massaging his shoulders and back—forget it. He didn't have the strength, and the height difference was too great. He simply couldn't reach. Jumping up to pat someone's shoulder? That would be improper. He never did such things.
The old temple master chuckled, then his form dissipated. As the Dao Ancestor had said, he went off to wander elsewhere, leaving not even a ripple that even Pi Yun Mountain and Wei Bo could detect.
The threads and veins in the town were too numerous, broken and continuous. Some had been completely severed, while others were still tenuously connected, intricate and complex. The old temple master was actually quite pleased with this. Grasping the main thread was precisely his Great Dao. If he could observe the Dao through this, he would surely benefit greatly.
The Dao Ancestor had come from the east, riding his ox through the gate as if passing through a pass, invisibly bestowing upon the old Li Zhu Cave Heaven an aura of "purple qi from the east" under the Great Dao. But it wouldn't manifest immediately; it would slowly emerge later.
He didn't need to act deliberately. Wherever the Dao Ancestor walked, that place was where the Great Dao resided.
This was still in the Haoran World. If it were in the Qingming World, the auspicious signs and phenomena would be even more exaggerated.
The Dao followed nature. The Dao Ancestor wouldn't normally deliberately conceal such phenomena, but as a guest in Haoran, bound by the rules set by Ritual Sage, he held back a little.
The Dao Ancestor walked toward the Yang Family Shop, intending to sit on the long bench under the eaves in the backyard.
The middle-aged monk went to the Dragon Kiln, where Yao Old Man served as the master craftsman.
Only the Utmost Sage remained standing beside Chen Lingjun. The old master teased, "Is it because sitting makes it easier to talk without back pain that you don't want to get up?"
Chen Lingjun had just stood up, but his limbs were weak, and he plopped back down to the ground. Embarrassed, he said, "To answer the Utmost Sage, I can't stand up."
The old master laughed, "Has your courage shrunk so much? Before I appeared, you weren't so timid."
Chen Lingjun said awkwardly, "Just fooling around, it doesn't count. I had eyes but didn't see. Please don't blame me."
The old master smiled, "A cultivator of the Dao—all his spirit lies in his eyes. Ascending the mountain to seek the Dao, being human yet not human—it's all in the heart's cavity."
Chen Lingjun sighed deeply. The Utmost Sage's knowledge was truly vast. So profound.
The old master asked, "Jingqing, can you take me to Mud Vial Alley?"
As soon as Chen Lingjun heard "Mud Vial Alley," he immediately jumped up. "No problem!"
The old master asked doubtfully, "Oh? Where did this burst of strength come from now?"
Chen Lingjun scratched his head, blushing. "Don't know why, but whenever I talk about my master, I become fearless."
The old master grunted in acknowledgment. "It seems everyone has their own backbone. Walking on the complex path of the world, it helps us resist the whole world. Lose, and it's suffering. Win, and it's peace."
Taking advantage of the fact that the other two had gone far, Chen Lingjun tentatively asked, "How about I kowtow a few more times to the Utmost Sage?"
The old master waved his hand and laughed, "No need. Hearing too many kowtows is annoying."
Chen Lingjun cautiously asked, "Utmost Sage, why didn't Wei Mountain Lord know you three had arrived in the town?"
The green-clad boy quickly added, "Wei Mountain Lord is very familiar with etiquette. If it weren't truly important, Wei Bo would definitely come to pay respects."
Personal grudges and the rules of the martial world were two different things.
How Wei Bo treated him and how Wei Bo treated Fallen Mountain had to be considered separately. Besides, Wei Bo had treated him fairly well.
The old master laughed, "Because the matter of traveling to the town wasn't on the veins that the Dao Ancestor wanted people to know. Since the Dao Ancestor intended it that way, of course Wei Bo couldn't see us three."
Chen Lingjun praised, "The Dao Ancestor's Daoist methods are truly profound."
The old master laughed, "It's not just that his Daoist methods are profound. If we really had to fight earlier, I would have been scared too."
Chen Lingjun let his true feelings show and lost his restraint, laughing loudly. "Lose the fight but not the face—I understand the principle..."
But his voice grew quieter and quieter. He had slipped back into his bad habit of speaking without thinking. Finally, he changed his tune sheepishly, "What do I know? The Utmost Sage is magnanimous. Just pretend I said nothing."
The old master didn't mind.
As they passed by the shop in Dragon Riding Alley, Chen Lingjun looked straight ahead, not daring to casually introduce the Utmost Sage to Brother Jia. The old master turned his head and glanced at the New Year's Gift Shop and the Herb Shop. "Business looks pretty good."
Chen Lingjun nodded. "Small business, fair prices, steady and long-lasting. They don't make much money, but my master handles so much immortal cash, yet he cares deeply about these small gains and losses of copper coins. He often comes down the mountain to check the accounts himself. Not because he doesn't trust Shopkeeper Shi and Brother Jia, but it seems looking at the surplus in the ledger makes him very happy."
The old master nodded. "That's a good habit. Earn small money, keep big money safe. Surplus every year, accumulating more, and a household's foundation grows stronger. One year's prospects better than the last."
Chen Lingjun sighed sincerely, looking up at the old master. "The Utmost Sage speaks so plainly that even I can understand."
The old master seemed thoughtful and smiled. "Since the Fifth and Sixth Patriarchs of Chan Buddhism, the Dharma gate was greatly opened without choosing based on capacities. In fact, the Buddha's teachings began to be explained in very plain terms, emphasizing that the mind is the Buddha, and not seeking outward. But later, they gradually became lofty and obscure, with countless Buddhist gathas and sharp exchanges, so the common people couldn't understand again. During this time, there was a step beyond 'not establishing words' in Buddhism called 'breaking speech.' Many eminent monks directly said they were unwilling to discuss the Buddha or the Dharma. If we don't discuss learning, only the propagation of the Dharma lineage, it's somewhat similar to our Confucian 'extinguishing human desires.'"
Chen Lingjun listened in a daze and didn't dare say a word. Fortunately, the old master didn't seem inclined to continue this topic.
They walked up the steps of Dragon Riding Alley together. The old master asked, "Does this alley have a name?"
Chen Lingjun nodded vigorously. "Yes, it's called Dragon Riding Alley. Further up, at the top of the alley, we locals often call it Furnace Peak."
The old master nodded. "Indeed, there's hidden mystery everywhere."
Before leaving his hometown, Lu Chen had roamed freely in the Haoran world, calling dragons to plow clouds and plant jade grass, while wind and rain followed the Cloud Lord.
The old master reached the top of the steps, turned to look at the flight of steps, and asked, "Jingqing, where is your place of enlightenment?"
Chen Lingjun was shocked and puzzled. "The Utmost Sage with such vast knowledge doesn't know something?"
The old master smiled. "It's not that I can't know, nor that I don't want to know. But we need to restrain ourselves. Otherwise, the people, events, and all things in each of our worlds would be Dao-ized very quickly."
"That's why the Dao Ancestor often stays in the Small Lotus Cave Heaven, even unwilling to wander around the White Jade Capital. He worries that once the 'One' passes halfway, everything will return to the One, uncontrollably and irreversibly. First, the mortal commoners at the foot of the mountain, then the cultivators on the mountain, and finally those in the upper five realms. In the end, perhaps only a group of Fourteen Realm Great Cultivators would remain in the entire Qingming World. Thousands of miles of mountains and rivers in the human world would all become Dao fields, with no place left for ordinary people."
"This was an agreement made by the riverside during a council ten thousand years ago. The Dao Ancestor was tasked with finding a solution, as he was the most worried about it from the start."
"The Dao Ancestor's Daoist methods are indeed profound, of course. The more capable, the more responsibility—it's only natural."
Chen Lingjun listened miserably, panicking, and murmured, "Utmost Sage, why are you telling me this?"
The old master chuckled. "Just listen. As long as you don't say anything yourself. Besides, it's hard for you to say these things now. Jingqing, how about we make a bet? See if you can say the words 'Dao Ancestor' right now? If you can tell anyone about meeting us three today, you win. Oh, and a hint for you: the only way to crack it is to not establish words—only understood in the mind, not conveyed in words."
Chen Lingjun tried to think about it, but as soon as he wanted to say something—like how he would boast to Brother Jia—he started to feel dizzy. He tried several times, all the same. Chen Lingjun shook his head and simply stopped thinking about it. "My place of cultivation is Huangting Kingdom's Royal River."
The old master said, "Oh, the Yellow Court Scripture—that's a major Daoist scripture. I heard that reciting it can refine the mind. For those who attain the Dao, over time, ten thousand spirits follow them. Countless techniques, when examined closely, all follow similar paths. For example, the method of visualization for cultivators is like planting rice in the mental field. Qi cultivators refining qi is like plowing. Each breakthrough is like a year's spring planting and autumn harvest. The first level of the Tenth Realm for pure martial artists, the wonder of abundant qi, is also similar—swallowing mountains and rivers, using them for oneself, seeing is believing, then returning to the void, gathering everything into one's own territory."
"So the Daoist school advocates emptying oneself, Confucians say 'a gentleman is not a vessel,' and Buddhists say 'emptiness' and 'all appearances are not appearances.'"
Hearing these words that made his head ache, the green-clad boy's forehead hair was stuck together in strands from sweat, looking ridiculous. The more he thought about it, the more terrified he became.
Chen Lingjun spread his hands, covered in sweat, and grimaced pitifully, "Utmost Sage, I'm really nervous right now. I can't remember anything you said. Can you wait until my master comes home and tell him? My master has a good memory, loves to learn, and learns everything quickly. Tell him, and he'll definitely understand—and he can even draw inferences."
The old master did not respond directly. He smiled and changed the subject, "Your master's teacher, the Literary Sage old scholar, did he ever teach anything about the character 'yu' (to govern/drive)?"
Chen Lingjun looked blank and bewildered.
The Literary Sage is my master's teacher, not mine. Utmost Sage, testing me like this out of the blue is a bit inconsiderate, truly against the rules of the martial world.
Forget it, the Utmost Sage doesn't operate in the martial world.
Alas, if the teacher were here, no matter what the Utmost Sage said, he would be able to respond. Maybe I really should read a few more books? There are plenty of books on the mountain. The old cook over there, heh...
Heh my ass! The Utmost Sage is standing right next to me. Do I want to die? Chen Lingjun directly slapped himself across the face. Damn, he hit too hard. He sank his breath and tightened his face.
The old master laughed. "No need to be so tense. Eating and sex are human nature."
"Multiple desires of a person are inherent in nature. This certainly causes people to make many mistakes, but every time we recognize, admit, and correct our mistakes, we are adding bricks to the path underfoot and tiles to the roof of the inn. Actually, it's a good thing. As the Dao Ancestor said, even he is a passerby in the human world—that's a true statement. But everyone can do what they can to make the path smoother for future generations. It benefits both others and oneself. Why not? Of course, if someone insists on pursuing only their own pure freedom, that is also an irreproachable freedom."
The old master smiled and gave the answer: "In the 'Great Summary Chapter,' it says: The Son of Heaven uses the jade tablet, the feudal lords use the tea, and the great officers use the hu. An even earlier saying: Yu means sacrifice. And even earlier, there's an old saying: The sage exiled the four evils, scattering them across heaven and earth, to govern the demons."
The Utmost Sage patted the green-clad boy's head and smiled. "Green snake in the box."
When they reached Mud Vial Alley, Chen Lingjun continued to lead the way, first introducing the renovated Cao family ancestral home, then heading toward the two adjacent residences of Chen Ping'an and Song Jixin. The old master walked slowly, taking a slight detour, and stopped to look at a spot on the ground—the place where a kiln worker had once buried a rouge box.
The water god tending the fire.
The Green Child Heavenly Lord really made things difficult for people.
This Rain Master, in the ancient Heavenly Court, was the second highest deity in the Water Department, second only to the Water God Li Liu.
Old Man Yang of the medicine shop had erased all traces of "scattering the Dao," and this scattering was done with great restraint. It wasn't the kind that dumped everything on Chen Ping'an at once; it was more like planting a seed in the heart of the Mud Vial Alley youth, which gradually blossomed.
The ancient deities of the old Heavenly Court had no division between male and female as later generations perceived. If one had to give a relatively precise definition, it would be the Dao Ancestor's concept of "transformation from the Great Dao" and the "distinction between yin and yang."
In a heavy rain, a thin youth blocked a richly dressed peer of the same age in this alley and grabbed him by the throat.
The straw-sandal youth once caught a small loach and casually gave it to the little snot-nosed kid, who kept it in a water jar.
And of course, the kiln worker's burial of the rouge box here.
Song Jixin squatted on the wall watching the commotion, while Chen Ping'an stepped in to save Liu Xianyang.
During their journey to the Great Sui Academy, after living together day and night, Li Huai, in his heart, felt closest to and most approving of Chen Ping'an.
Countless similar "small matters" concealed extremely subtle and profound shifts in people's hearts and transformations of divinity.
It wasn't just Chen Ping'an silently acquiring things; there was also a loss of his own divinity. That was the brilliance of Old Man Yang's design.
Every time he affirmed others, Chen Ping'an would lose a portion of divinity. But every time he affirmed himself after self-denial, he would quietly consume part of the divinity accumulated within.
Moreover, Li Baobao's pure heart and all her unrestrained thoughts and ideas were, to some extent, a form of "returning to the One." Ma Kuxuan's wantonness was also a kind of purity. Li Huai's immense good fortune, Lin Shouyi's almost innate familiarity with the "guarding the One" method, Liu Xianyang's extraordinary talent—learning everything quickly, reaching a state far beyond ordinary people's skill, Song Jixin using dragon qi as a starting point for cultivation, Zhigui's potential for transformation, taking another step forward after restoring her true dragon form, Xie Ling of Peach Leaf Alley using the lineage of "acceptance, devouring, digestion" as a path to heaven, and the Fire God Ruan Xiu and Water God Li Liu overlooking the human world with supreme divinity, continuously gathering fragmented humanity...
All the younger generation in the town served as each other's obfuscations.
In this silent race of the Heavenly Dao, everyone originally had hope of becoming the One.
The old master raised his arm and made a grasping gesture above his own head.
Three feet above the head, there are deities.
The ancient deities created humanity, cupping water as the essence—the water came from the River of Time—and then forming clay into shapes, giving humans their most rudimentary form and spirit.
Earlier, the Dao Ancestor had chatted with Chen Lingjun, casually mentioning the interdependence of mountains and water. In the end, it was all about the fundamental Dao of humanity. The Haoran landscape was like that, and so were people.
That was why Cui Dongshan once said that the Three Teachings Patriarchs were always harmonious and never argued on the matter of the Great Dao being close to water.
Refining with fire is a technique. What is refined is part of the pure divinity bestowed upon humanity by the deities. This is the way of refining metal with fire.
Thus, on the earth, humans—who innately possess divinity yet lack complete divinity—have the seven emotions and six desires, and all kinds of complex natures.
What cultivators of the Dao call "shaping golden branches and jade leaves" is using the spiritual qi of heaven and earth as branches and leaves. This is wood.
This was the earliest Five Elements of heaven and earth.
And the spiritual qi of heaven and earth, suitable for sentient beings to cultivate and seek the Dao—where did it come from? It was the remnants of the Heavenly Dao left after the corpses of many deities dissipated without fully merging into the River of Time.
This determined why humans were the most favored head of all living beings in the world, and why demon beasts, if they wished to cultivate and ascend, had to abandon the advantage of their innate tough physiques and must refine a human form.
Back then, the Three Teachings Patriarchs had an agreement with Old Man Yang. As long as the latter kept his oath, the Three Teachings Patriarchs would not cast their gaze upon this place.
But the three teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—along with the military, various sages had been responsible for watching over the Ascension Platform and the Sword Tower here. After so many years, they were still tricked in the end.
And in fact, Old Man Yang never broke the agreement in the end.
The old master smiled. Yes, it's always easier to be the thief for a thousand days than to guard against a thief for a thousand days. But the most fundamental reason was that the Green Child Heavenly Lord's final choice was too clever. There were too many obfuscations. Most crucially, Old Man Yang didn't choose Chen Ping'an from the start. He kept betting, adding a little more stake bit by bit. Such behavior, in Old Man Yang's ten thousand years of confinement, was utterly unremarkable. Among the younger generation in the town—Song Jixin, Zhao Yao, Gu Can—which one hadn't received one or even several roundabout gifts? On Chen Ping'an, Old Man Yang's bets were actually quite "stingy." It seemed he only added a little fuel at a few inconspicuous critical nodes—a single lamp flame, always flickering in the wind and rain, just barely not extinguished.
For instance, making a five-year-old child go up the mountain to gather herbs to exchange for money at the medicine shop, then buy medicine to take home, and then decoct the medicine.
"Unshakable equivalent exchange"—this principle, how many adults, how many cultivators on the mountain, might live their entire lives without understanding.
Another example: when Chen Ping'an was young, there was a "crossing the river" incident. Someone needed to pull him back so the child wouldn't jump into the flood. Only then did Old Man Yang appear.
The old master looked toward the end of the alley, squinting. Sure enough, he saw it. Back then, the child lingered in the alley, wandering from dusk until dark. Finally, he waited for someone to open the door. It was the woman's own kindness at work, but it was also Old Man Yang's deliberate guidance... No, it wasn't the Green Child Heavenly Lord! The old master took a step sideways, leaning against the wall, one hand behind his back, and with two fingers of the other hand pressed together, gently pinched that dashed line.
Was it Yao Old Man, the reincarnation of the Medicine Buddha?
"Human nature is a cage given to humanity by the deities."
"Freedom is a punishment."
Buddhism speaks of self-nature, emphasizing that the mind is the Buddha. It hopes that humans, with great perseverance, great enlightenment, and great compassion, can slightly alter the trajectory on the mountain peak that originally led to complete pure divinity, forging a new path.
The old master turned his head, as if there stood a hungry child in the alley—small, thin, sallow. He first heard the sound of a door opening. The child seemed still unable to believe it. He took a few steps, then stopped. Then he saw that dim yellow light suddenly spilling from the door into the alley. He blinked, and finally stared blankly at the woman who had opened the door.
Hope in despair is often like this. When it first arrives, it's not joy, but disbelief.
At that moment, the light gradually ignited in the child's eyes, bright as if his eyes possessed sun and moon.
A lonely, helpless child in a humble alley, at that moment, bloomed with a radiant human nature.
It was hope.
And this human nature and hope would support the child as he grew.
The old master turned his head, looking through a wall, far into the future Bamboo Slip Lake, and saw the gaunt, dispirited account-keeper.
The old master withdrew his gaze and sighed. This maverick Cui Chan—back then, wasn't he really afraid that Chen Ping'an would kill Gu Can with one punch, or simply walk away?
Once Chen Ping'an's human nature was severed here, the consequences would be unimaginable. Later, through his various distant travels and training, especially the tempering of his heart as the Hidden Official, Chen Ping'an would become infinitely close to Cui Chan's self-deception in covering up mistakes, becoming imperceptible.
Damn you, Embroidered Tiger! If you weren't careful, Chen Ping'an might already be the "restored to old, not new" One.
The old master muttered to himself, cursing under his breath.
Chen Lingjun had been standing by his master's door all along. Here, he felt more at ease.
The old master turned and smiled. "Jingqing, wait here for a moment. I'm going somewhere. I'll be back soon."
Chen Lingjun immediately straightened his back and answered loudly, "Understood! I'll stand here and not move an inch!"
In a Water God temple in the Green Luan Kingdom, a River Earl temple covering more than ten acres had luckily escaped war and survived. Now its incense was growing more prosperous.
In the fourth courtyard's covered corridor, the old master stood beneath a wall. On the wall were inscriptions. There were Pei Qian's "Heaven and Earth Merge Qi" and "Pei Qian and Master visited here," as well as Zhu Lian's cursive script—mostly dry brush and light ink, over a hundred characters written in one go. But the old master focused more on the two lines in regular script.
The old master looked up at the characters, stroking his beard and smiling.
*The moon in the sky, the moon on earth, the moon on the shoulder of a student carrying a satchel, the moon in the eyes of one climbing high and leaning on a railing, the moon shattered and round again when drawing water with a bamboo basket.*
*The wind in the mountains, the wind by the water, the wind beneath the feet of one traveling far on a flying sword, the wind turning pages in a sage's study, the wind blowing duckweed, meeting again after drifting.*
Fine—an infinite romance of wind and moon, shattered and round, and meeting again.
Lu Chen, over on the Sword Qi Great Wall, said the moon in the sky is gathered snow, and the snow on earth is shattered moonlight. In the end, it's all about the going and returning of the One.
And Zhu Lian's cursive inscription on the wall—over a hundred characters—were all unintentional words. In fact, beyond the text and content, what it truly expressed was the meaning of "gathering like mountains, scattering like wind and rain"—the idea of gathering and dispersing. The Zhu Lian of the past and the Lu Chen of the present formed a kind of profound, mysterious resonance.
With such an idle, passive disciple who only liked to watch dramas, the Dao Ancestor could hardly speak with confidence.
The Li Zhu Cave Heaven finally stirred up such a big commotion. Lu Chen, who had set up a stall here for many years, had to take his share of the blame—no escaping it.
This time, temporarily lending his Fourteen Realm Daoist methods to Chen Ping'an to travel with a few sword cultivators deep into the barbarian hinterlands was considered making up for his mistakes.
Earlier, the Dao Ancestor had been willing to take another look. Chen Ping'an's choice as the young Hidden Official was crucial.
The old master returned to Mud Vial Alley.
He walked over to Chen Lingjun and looked at the yellow mud wall in the courtyard. He could imagine that when the owner of the house was young, carrying a basket of wild vegetables back from the river, he must have often held a dog's tail grass skewering small fish, drying them into fish jerky, unwilling to waste a single thing. Crunchy, the whole fish would go down in one gulp. He might still not be full, but he could survive.
*The people regard food as their heaven.*
*Good grain and cloth—these are the foundation of the people and the state.*
*Every household has ample food and clothing.*
*Travelers on the road are warmly clothed.*
The old master stood outside the door, hands behind his back, looking into the yard, silent for a long time.
Chen Lingjun lay on top of the yellow mud wall, feet dangling, muttering, "Utmost Sage, although my master is a sword immortal, a martial arts grandmaster, the mountain lord of Fallen Mountain, and the Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, I know that what my master cares about most is being a scholar with a clear conscience. The path has not been easy. No matter how you argue, the most unwanted meal in the world is a meal from a hundred families, right? Because one has no home, one has no choice but to eat from a hundred families. And my master is nostalgic and grateful. How did he get his connections with elders? It didn't fall from the sky. It's because my master has been chatting with old people since he was a child. So these years have been very hard. Every time he returns to his hometown, he comes here to sit for a while. It's my master reminding himself not to forget his roots. You, venerable one, are the patriarch of scholars—you must not let others bully him."
The old master laughed. "What if forgetting his roots would make your master's life easier?"
Chen Lingjun said without hesitation, "Good people have a peaceful life. A peaceful life, a good person."
The old master laughed. "That is indeed a beautiful thing, worthy of our giving hope."
Chen Lingjun grinned, lying on the wall. Finally, he could do something for his master.
The old master seemed in a very good mood now. He patted the green-clad boy on the shoulder, smiling. "Let's go."
Chen Lingjun let go and landed on the ground, puzzled. "Utmost Sage, where to next? Visit the Civil and Martial Temple?"
The old master said with a sly smile, "Since I've already patted the Dao Ancestor's shoulder, I might as well pat that other one. From now on, at the drinking table, who can compete with you?"
Chen Lingjun was sweating profusely, waving his hands vigorously, speechless.
Utmost Sage, are you setting me up?!
The old master grabbed the green-clad boy's arm. "What are you afraid of? Isn't that being petty?"
Chen Lingjun planted his feet, leaning back, almost in tears. "I'm not going! Really not going! My master believes in Buddhism, and I follow him—very sincerely! The first great tenet of Fallen Mountain's atmosphere is to treat others with sincerity..."
If my master finds out later, he'll beat me to death.
At the mountain gate of Fallen Mountain, a table was set up on one side. On the other side, a little girl in black clothes sat on a small bamboo chair, a golden carrying pole on her shoulder, a green bamboo staff across her knees, and a small cotton satchel slung across her body.
She saw an old Daoist standing by the table. She rubbed her eyes. She wasn't seeing things. The little girl leaned her walking stick and golden pole against the bamboo chair, stood up, and trotted over to the tall old Daoist. She stopped, looked up, and asked, "Old Daoist, are you thirsty? We have tea to serve guests here."
The little girl added, "No charge!"
Seeing the old Daoist didn't speak, Little Mili said again, "Ha, it's just that the tea isn't famous. The leaves come from the old tea tree on our own mountain. The old cook fired them himself. It's this year's new tea."
The old temple master nodded and sat down on the long bench.
Compared to his mood in the town, he had calmed down a bit.
Otherwise, he would have settled accounts with Chen Ping'an. Attacking that little crawling insect would be beneath his dignity.
*Where the soil is thin, great things do not grow; where the water is shallow, big fish do not swim.*
Before Little Mili went to boil water for tea, she first opened her cotton satchel and pulled out a large handful of melon seeds onto the table. Actually, there were melon seeds in both sleeves. The little girl was showing off to the outsider.
Little Mili asked, "Old Daoist, is that enough? I have more if not."
The old temple master thought of that "Daoist Jingqing," who had said something similar but with a world of difference. The old temple master rarely showed a smile. "Enough."
The little girl in black told the old Daoist to wait a moment and went off to busy herself.
Soon, she brought a tin can of tea leaves and a pot of boiling water, poured a bowl of tea for the old Daoist, and then took her leave.
The old temple master smiled and asked, "Won't you sit for a while, little girl?"
The little girl shook her head vigorously. "No, Nuanshu sister said no, to avoid making the guest uncomfortable drinking tea."
Little Mili added as a reminder, "Oh, right, the tea has just boiled. Old Daoist, be careful not to burn yourself."
The old temple master smiled. Words spoken with sincerity. He recalled the muddy-legged man who had once charged into Lotus Flower Blessed Land carrying a "Long Qi."
*The world's things are as many as hairs, but I have a small matter as big as a bucket.*
The old temple master raised his tea bowl and smiled. "You're the Right Guardian of Fallen Mountain, aren't you?"
Zhou Mili was about to turn around but immediately nodded vigorously.
The little girl pursed her lips and smiled, her small face, big eyes, and two faint, thin, light yellow eyebrows—everywhere was joy.
If the old Daoist had been this straightforward earlier, she would have sat down without hesitation.
Little Mili sat on the long bench, cracking melon seeds on her own, not bothering the old Daoist as he drank tea.
Suddenly, she noticed that the old cook had appeared at the mountain gate. Little Mili clapped her hands and asked curiously, "Old cook, why did you come down the mountain today? Finished your book?"
Zhu Lian smiled. "Not yet. I have to read slowly."
Little Mili turned to the old Daoist, cupped her hand beside her mouth, and whispered, "Old Daoist, the old cook is the steward of Fallen Mountain. His cooking is superb! If you two hit it off, you're in for a treat."
The old temple master nodded. "Even the most unwelcome guest, treated so well by this little girl, would have to settle disputes peacefully. Old acquaintances from the martial world will get along."
Zhu Lian smiled. "Little Mili, can I have a few words alone with this old Daoist?"
Little Mili nodded obediently. She opened her cotton satchel again, poured some melon seeds onto the table for the old cook and the old Daoist, then swung her legs off the long bench, landed steadily, turned around, cupped her fists, and took her leave.
Zhu Lian cupped his fists to the old temple master and then sat down, facing him. He poured himself a bowl of tea.
The old temple master said with a smile, "Why hide it? It's a waste of such a good skin that could please heaven and earth."
Zhu Lian smiled and said nothing.
*Cultivating separately, meeting at the mountain summit, still seeing the one who guarded the temple.*
The old temple master asked, "When will you wake from the dream?"
Of those most likely to succeed the Three Teachings Patriarchs and reach the Fifteenth Realm, the person before him counted as one.
Zhu Lian answered indirectly: "Life is like a book. All the people and events we encounter are foreshadowing within the book."
The old temple master nodded. "Thus, no coincidence, no story. Some coincidences are so wonderful they defy description. For instance, far away yet close at hand—Chen Eleven. Chen is One. One is Chen."