Chapter 851: Mud Vase Alley
Chen Lingjun absolutely dared not pat that person's shoulder. He refused adamantly, nearly throwing a tantrum. The old master had no choice but to give up and let Chen Lingjun lead him out of the town. They went neither to the Immortal Grave nor the Civil and Martial Temple, instead taking a detour along Dragon Whisker River to the stone arch bridge for a look, and finally taking a glance at the remains of the small pavilion-like temple.
Chen Lingjun probed, "Ultimate Sage Teacher, that earlier old Daoist immortal who was very tall, his realm is also very, very high?"
The old master nodded. "Very high. If his realm weren't high, the Dao Ancestor wouldn't have transmitted Dao magic to him. Moreover, this Daoist friend, in his early years, had great kindness towards our human race. That's why, among the twelve zodiac signs corresponding to the earthly branches formulated by the Ritual Sage, he ranks very high. It's just that this Daoist friend's bullheaded temper... forget it, speaking ill of others behind their backs is not upright."
Chen Lingjun worried, "But from the tone, it seems he has some grudge with my master?"
What to do? He definitely couldn't defeat that old Daoist. The Ultimate Sage Teacher also said he would be intimidated fighting the Dao Ancestor. So no matter how he looked at it, their side didn't have the advantage.
No need to say it—he and the Ultimate Sage Teacher were of course on the same side. A person shouldn't let their elbow bend outward. What did it mean to navigate the martial world? It meant when two gangs fought, even if outnumbered with fewer on your side and doomed to lose, you still stood with your friends and took the beating without running away.
Earlier, the old Daoist had mentioned the Lotus Flower Blessed Land. From his tone, it seemed his master had suffered losses there and lost face.
Regarding the blessed land renamed the Lotus Root Blessed Land, Chen Lingjun only knew that Pei Qian and Cao Qinglang, as well as the old cook and the farmer master, all came from this auspicious place full of outstanding people. But none of them liked to say much about their hometown, so Chen Lingjun had never bothered to ask much. He had always mistakenly thought that a once low-grade lotus flower blessed land, with few cultivators and not even a single earthly immortal, couldn't stir up much trouble.
Who would have thought a guy addressed as 'Daoist friend' by the Dao Ancestor would pop up? Truly, you can't judge a book by its cover. Fortunately, he had been kind-hearted and brought up the matter of the abundant grass on their mountain—otherwise, with his slender arms and legs, he couldn't have borne this messy account.
The old master shook his head. "Actually, not so. Back in the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, this Daoist friend still quite approved of your master's conduct and principles. Especially a heartfelt remark of 'Daoist master, Daoist master,' which comforted people just right."
Chen Lingjun was greatly relieved. He puffed out his chest, laughing heartily, "My master has always been good with elders. As for me, I just follow his example, which works out passably."
The old master smiled, "As for being favored by elders, I'm not very good at that. Back when I was traveling with my disciples, I encountered a fisherman and couldn't get a boat ride across the river. Looking back, I was still too proud back then, not favored by the Great Dao."
Chen Lingjun plucked up his courage and said, "When my master took Baoping and the others to study in Great Sui, they lived off the land all the way. My master would knock on woodcutters' doors to ask for lodging, and things went fairly smoothly."
The old master asked, "Jingqing, you've been cultivating under Chen Ping'an for many years, and there are many books on the mountain. Haven't you read Director Lu's 'Fisherman' chapter? Don't you know the origin of the phrase 'standing as equals'? Don't you know that someone once scolded me, saying 'The master still bears an arrogant countenance'?"
Chen Lingjun looked embarrassed. "All the books have been read by my master. On Lost Soul Mountain, I only knew to train diligently every day, so I haven't had time to study them yet."
The old master chuckled, "You should still read more. At least then you can keep up in conversations."
Chen Lingjun nodded vigorously like a chicken pecking rice. "From now on, I'll definitely make time for both reading and training."
Every time he went down the mountain to wander, he would visit the Huaihuang County Confucian Temple to offer incense to the Ultimate Sage Teacher and kowtow!
Chen Lingjun hesitated, then asked curiously, "Can I ask about the Buddha's Dharma? How is it?"
His implication was: can you beat the Buddha?
The old master stroked his beard and smiled. "He can gather the entire universe into a speck of dust, and also pick a flower to evolve a world of mountains and rivers. What do you think of such Dharma?"
Chen Lingjun sighed. He couldn't control his hand and subconsciously patted the old master's sleeve. No matter, fighting just hurt feelings; better to avoid it.
The old master didn't mind and casually asked, "Having been here a while, is there anyone you dislike?"
Chen Lingjun sheepishly withdrew his hand and simply clasped his hands in his sleeves like his master to avoid further rude gestures. He thought for a moment but couldn't think of anyone he truly hated. But since the Ultimate Sage Teacher asked, he needed to give an answer, so he picked a relatively unpleasant fellow: "Ma Kuxuan of Apricot Flower Alley. He doesn't handle things properly—far worse than my master, by a hundred thousand miles."
The old master naturally knew of Ma Kuxuan of True Martial Mountain, but he didn't speak ill or well of the young man. Instead, he smiled and revealed a celestial secret to Chen Lingjun, giving the inside story of an old affair: "Over on the Barbarian Heaven, that old blind man who manipulated puppets to move the Ten Thousand Mountain Ranges was once very disappointed in a few of us. So he gouged out his own eyes and threw one into the Haoran Heaven and one into the Green Clarity Heaven, saying he wanted to watch us all become beings no different from the former gods. One of those eyes was taken by the old temple master to the Lotus Flower Blessed Land and given to that fire-tending acolyte. The remaining one has been by Ma Kuxuan's side. Old Man Yang's bet on Ma Kuxuan in the early years was no small one."
The old master sighed. "Back then, that old blind man, just in terms of appearance, was indeed excellent. Chen Qingdu was far worse than him. But both were stubborn, single-minded, with bad tempers."
As the conversation went on, Chen Lingjun recalled something. "Actually, I do have someone I dislike, but there's nothing much to say. A shrewish woman who is utterly unreasonable. I, a grown man, can't do anything to her. She was the one who falsely accused Pei Qian of killing her white goose and insisted Pei Qian pay her compensation. Pei Qian ended up paying. At the time, Pei Qian was actually very hurt, but her master was away traveling and not at home, so she just had to hold it in. Actually, back when Pei Qian first started going to the school, on her way to and from class, she did like to chase the white goose as a prank. But every time, she made sure Xiaomili had some rice bran and corn in her pocket. After the chase, Pei Qian would wave her hand, and Xiaomili would immediately toss a handful into the alley, as a reward to what Pei Qian called her 'defeated opponents.'"
The old master nodded. "Indeed, it was hurtful."
In the earliest glorious era of the Hundred Schools of Thought, the Mohist school was a prominent doctrine in the Haoran Heaven. There was also the Yang Zhu school, which later became obscure. Their teachings once filled the world, leading to the saying, 'If you don't belong to Yang, you belong to Mo.' Then came an important turning point that later generations paid little attention to: the Secondary Sage invited the Ritual Sage to return from the celestial realm to the Central Plains Confucian Temple to discuss a matter. The Confucian Temple's eventual response was to suppress the Yang Zhu school, preventing the entire world from following this school's path. Only then did the Secondary Sage rise and become enshrined in the Confucian Temple. Later came the Literary Sage, who proposed that human nature is inherently evil.
Many among the founding masters of the Hundred Schools had great criticism of this, believing that the Ritual Sage was worried about his own Great Dao—'rituals and rules'—coming into irreconcilable conflict with the 'individual freedom' championed by the Yang Zhu school. They felt that there was indeed an invisible Great Dao struggle between the world's order and individual freedom. So many believed that the Ritual Sage, out of self-interest, agreed to the Secondary Sage's proposal.
The Ritual Sage, who usually didn't like drinking, rarely took the initiative to have a drink with the Ultimate Sage Teacher that time. But during the drink, the Ritual Sage didn't say much—just drank in silence.
The old master naturally knew the reason. It wasn't that the Yang Zhu school's advocacy of 'everyone for themselves, which is only natural' was bad. If it were bad, it wouldn't have become a prominent doctrine. Their discussion of life and death was very clear and penetrating; their discussion of self-value was unique and extremely novel. The tenet of 'don't be burdened by things, don't harm external things' was also excellent. Nor was it that this school was too close to Daoism. Rather, this school of thought would one day, like a river pouring across the world, spread out and become the way of the world. It would cause all people walking on that path—every single one—to become increasingly extreme. This touched upon an even more hidden struggle between human heart and divine nature.
The old master asked, "Jingqing, how does your master regard the Yang Zhu school?"
Chen Lingjun thought for a moment and answered honestly, "My master hasn't mentioned it, but I heard from the big white goose that it's 'chaotic refinement of subtlety,' not much good. A few people studying this path is harmless and can even benefit the world. But if everyone did it, it would all be a flash in the pan."
If it weren't for Cui Dongshan talking nonsense, Chen Lingjun wouldn't have heard of the Yang Zhu school at all.
Chen Lingjun always thought that big white goose was a drunkard—the kind who talked drunk even when not drinking.
The two walked along Dragon Whisker River. All the way, the Ultimate Sage Teacher had been telling him everything he knew, so Chen Lingjun was walking a bit lightly. "Ultimate Sage Teacher, you've talked with me so much today. You must think I'm a promising talent, right?"
The old master chuckled, "What makes you say that?"
Chen Lingjun said with a sincere expression, "You're so busy, yet you're willing to talk with me all the way..."
The old master answered off-topic: "Every yesterday's self is our greatest support for today."
"Jingqing, why do you like drinking?"
"Ah? Does liking drinking need a reason?"
"That's fair."
"Ultimate Sage Teacher, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"At a drinking table, what kind of person is the most dreaded?"
"The kind whose face turns red when drinking."
Oh ho, indeed, the Ultimate Sage Teacher couldn't be stumped! That remark hit the nail on the head.
Chen Lingjun continued probing, "What phrase is the most annoying?"
"'Urging a toast hurts character—I'll drink it all, you drink as you please.'"
Oh ho oh ho, the Ultimate Sage Teacher's knowledge was truly remarkable. Chen Lingjun was genuinely impressed, grinning, "I didn't expect you to have been through it all."
"Jingqing, let me ask you: what do you consider being truly poor?"
"Having only money but no learning?"
The old master glanced at the green-clad child next to him who was beginning to swing his sleeves.
Chen Lingjun immediately clasped his hands back into his sleeves and changed his answer: "The sort who are rich but cruel, or poor but vicious?"
The old master smiled, "Just say what's on your mind."
Chen Lingjun sighed in relief. Overthinking was exhausting. "It's when you have no money in your pocket, so poor you can't afford a wife, a bachelor, trying to buy wine on credit but no one is willing to lend you money, poor and too proud, and even that bit of pride you have to hide away as if it can't see the light, and then one day, with a crack, that last bit of pride gets stomped to pieces by someone's foot, and you can only wait until the crowd disperses, after everyone's had their fun, before you dare to pick it up from the ground yourself."
"Just that?"
"Only daring to doubt the world, not daring to doubt yourself?"
The old master nodded. The two answers, especially the latter, were somewhat unexpected. He asked with a smile, "Did you come up with that while drinking?"
Chen Lingjun was a bit embarrassed, wiping his face with his sleeve. "How could that be? At the drinking table, when you're really drunk, you don't know your place. I'm lazy, and I like to make excuses for myself, finding ways to loaf around all day. I love coming down the mountain to this town to relax. Don't blame me, Ultimate Sage Teacher. Earlier I said I trained diligently—that's bullshit. I just eat and drink without working on the mountain, and slack off down the mountain. Fortunately, my master sees it all but never bothers me. Since my master doesn't care, no one else dares to say anything. Ultimate Sage Teacher, I'm not boasting when I say that everyone on Lost Soul Mountain respects my master from the bottom of their hearts."
The old master looked up at Lost Soul Mountain.
Except for a name that wasn't too common, there was nothing peculiar about the things there.
But that was precisely the most peculiar thing.
The old master asked, "When Chen Ping'an bought the mountain, why did he choose Lost Soul Mountain?"
Chen Lingjun snickered. "There's actually a story about that. I heard Pei Qian secretly say that back then, my master first had his eye on two mountains: one was True Pearl Mountain, cheap—only one golden essence copper coin—and the other was Lost Soul Mountain, where our ancestral hall is now. At that time, my master spread out a large map of the mountains. He didn't know how to choose. Then a bird flew by and dropped a dropping on the map, right on 'Lost Soul Mountain.' Haha, it's really funny..."
The old master asked with a smile, "Is there a local saying about that?"
Chen Lingjun rubbed his face hard, barely suppressing his laughter. "My master tells his first disciple, Pei Qian, everything. He said that when the kiln master, Old Man Yao, took him into the mountains to find clay, he said that there are wonders among the mountains and rivers, and there are gods three feet above the head. Anyway, my master really believes in that. But my master also said that he later guessed it might have been intentional on the part of the National Teacher."
The old master nodded. Chen Ping'an's guess was the truth—it was indeed Cui Chan's doing.
'Lost' was certainly not a good word, but if a 'steadfast' character could be added to it, the meaning would be completely different.
The reason Cui Chan separated the frivolous Cui Dongshan from himself, besides the already revealed grand schemes, hid an interesting method: using another version of himself to, perhaps with a few key words, open some kind of restriction, like a series of 'letters home' sent across time to his future self, reminding him at what stage, moment, or juncture he should say what and do what. Just like how the Dao Ancestor, when he left the Lotus Flower Cave Heaven and the Green Clarity Heaven this time, had long 'talked to himself,' having different questions and answers with those destined beings he had already seen in the future but who had not yet reached him. All were meticulously deduced within the cave heaven's Great Dao evolution.
The Haoran Embroidery Tiger, this time, invited the Three Ancestors to sit down—one questioning the Dao, and the three expounding the Dao.
It wasn't to say that Cui Chan's intellect, Dao method, or learning surpassed the Three Ancestors.
It was like the Three Ancestors had ten thousand choices, and Cui Chan said he had chosen one path for them that he could prove was the most beneficial to the world—that was the one-in-ten-thousand. So would they walk that path or not?
They reached the stone arch bridge that no longer hung a sword. The old master stopped, looked down at the river, then raised his head slightly. Over by the green cliff on the far bank was the place where the straw-sandaled youth and the pigtailed girl first met—one diving into the water to catch fish, the other watching.
How many small fish swam leisurely in the emerald water? A struggle to cross and transform into dragons. The human world saw the ancient Dragon Gate again; purple, gold, and white scales vied to leap.
Chen Lingjun sat down on the edge of the bridge, dangling his legs, arms folded across his chest. He looked up and asked, "Ultimate Sage Teacher, earlier in Mud Vase Alley, what were you looking at in the courtyard?"
The old master, hands behind his back, smiled and said, "A child who had been poor and starved, in order to survive, dried some fish, ate them all, not a scrap left, cleaned his plate silently."
A child without support in Mud Vase Alley. First, he learned to decoct medicine from an apothecary apprentice, then learned the ways of mountains and rivers from Liu Xianyang, then learned the craft of porcelain from Old Man Yao of the dragon kiln, practiced boxing and learned characters from a boxing manual, learned to write from Lu Chen's prescriptions. After leaving his hometown, he still regarded the world cautiously, constantly learning the ways of dealing with others from everyone, trying to learn as many skills as possible. Every heartfelt acknowledgment, every careful self-validation and cultivation of the heart, was a silent growth. At the same time, he did his utmost to give back to the world. In his younger years, Chen Ping'an once told someone that he would learn everything good. In the end, even Wu Shuangjiang and Zheng Juzhong's art of dismantling everything and reading hearts—the now forty-year-old young hidden official was still learning. Surely Chen Ping'an would continue like this in the future.
The old master looked at the river and asked, "The term 'world' originally came from Buddhist language. 'Realm' (界), according to our Master Xu's *Shuowen Jiezi*?"
Chen Lingjun groaned, "Ultimate Sage Teacher, don't look at me like that! I definitely don't know."
The old master pointed to the field ridges by the river and smiled, "The boundary of a field—a place for planting grain, the pattern of crisscrossing paths. The old scholar said, 'Humans are born with desires. If desires are not obtained, then they cannot seek. If they seek without measure or boundary, then they cannot avoid conflict.' Don't you think that's a clear lineage? So the final conclusion, precisely that human nature is inherently evil, is exactly why rituals arose. The old scholar's learning was very practical. And if you were the Ritual Sage, wouldn't hearing that make you happy?"
Chen Lingjun was deeply ashamed. "Ultimate Sage Teacher, I've read too few books. I don't know anything you ask. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Books don't have legs. You'll have plenty of chances to read them later. Just don't waste the reading."
The old master patted the green-clad child on the head, offering comfort and a piece of advice: "The Dao is not far from people. Don't waste your suffering."
Chen Lingjun was dazed, but anyway, he'd listen and remember.
The old master spoke kindly, "Jingqing, go about your own business. No need to guide me."
Chen Lingjun mustered his courage and asked, "Would you like to go to Riding Dragon Alley for a drink? My master isn't home, so I can drink a few extra bowls for him."
The old master shook his head with a smile. "Drinking now wouldn't be right. Don't push your luck—that's a good habit. Don't worry, I'm not talking about you; I'm talking about us Confucians."
Chen Lingjun stepped back a few paces, made a deep bow to the Ultimate Sage Teacher, then turned and ran down the stone arch bridge. He didn't dare fly directly back to Lost Soul Mountain; instead, he planned to go to Riding Dragon Alley to find Brother Jia for a drink to calm his nerves.
The green-clad child had already run far, but suddenly stopped. He turned around and shouted loudly, "Ultimate Sage Teacher, I think you're the greatest. I don't understand exactly how, but just... this!"
Chen Lingjun raised his arm high, thumb up.
The old master smiled and nodded. That was quite heartwarming, too.
Heaven and earth are the inn of ten thousand things; time is a guest of a hundred generations. We too are travelers on the road. Sad? Bitter? Wondrous? Fortunate?
Crossing the water to see flowers, before realizing it, we reach your home. Here, we part. For this, I give thanks.
The old master bowed to heaven and earth—both a thank-you and a farewell.
Cultivators ride the wind, soaring toward the sun and moon, light and graceful.
Ordinary people in the mortal world, because they are not free, pursue freedom. Let the next change of oceans to mulberry fields turn the sea of suffering into a field of blessings. Let everyone have ample food and clothing. Let the sound of reading books be heard everywhere.
Finally, the old master looked at that humble alley in the town.
A small alley called Mud Vase Alley.
Heaven moves vigorously; a gentleman strives to be strong.
From the mud, a flower blooms. The heart is the vase; the flower blooms outside the vase. Isn't that beautiful?
Surely the other two traveling the town also regarded the One in this way.
---
The old temple master glanced sidelong at the mountain path, where a white cloud seemed to drift down from the green mountains.
Besides that, there was a female martial artist walking down the mountain while practicing stepping techniques. The white-robed youth was circling around her, shouting and hopping, performing crude boxing moves.
The woman seemed used to it. She ignored his antics and kept descending the mountain, stepping and punching.
The old temple master couldn't be bothered to look at Cui Dongshan anymore. He reached out, grabbed two objects: a talisman sword forged by the Dragon Spring Sword Sect as a token, and a 'Peace and No Trouble' plaque issued by the Great Li Ministry of Justice, with rough chisel marks and simple carving.
Where the two objects came from—heaven only knew.
The old temple master pinched the talisman sword between two fingers and examined it through narrowed eyes. Sure enough, it concealed an ancient sword technique that was hard to detect. Qi refiners of insufficient realm would never see through it.
What constituted insufficient realm? Naturally, anyone below the fourteenth realm and below the flying ascension sword immortal wasn't enough.
But the sword technique was incomplete. To complete it, probably five or six more talisman swords would be needed. Regardless of the selling price of the talisman swords, as long as someone had the will and means to do this, it would be a very profitable business. How profitable? With just this sword technique, a sword sect could easily establish a foothold in the Haoran Heaven. The key was that the threshold for this technique was low. As long as one was a sword cultivator, without needing exceptional talent, they could methodically forge the sword and cultivate. As for killing power, the technique's rank was not high, but it was stable for cultivation. So the larger the sect, the more value it placed on such techniques.
Cui Dongshan stood by the steps, leaped high into the air, did a sideways flip, and landed beside the table. He shook his two large snow-white sleeves, looked up into the distance, and said to himself, "Autumn is coming. Clear autumn wind, bright autumn moon. Autumn clouds fill the vast sky. Autumn waters fall on the lotus leaves."
Then he lowered his gaze, first glancing at the old cook, then at the not-unfamiliar old temple master. Cui Dongshan grinned cheekily and said, "When autumn waters arrive, a hundred rivers fill the Yellow River. Vast and mighty, you can't tell the cow from the horse."
Zhu Lian smiled and let it go. That remark was a bit too provoking.
Cui Dongshan turned his back to the table and sat down on a long bench. He lifted his leg and turned around, asking, "Mountains and rivers far away, deep clouds and remote paths, old Daoist master, from where do you come?"
Zhu Lian was cracking melon seeds. If he were the old temple master, he would probably have been tempted to hit the guy.
The old temple master sneered, "Everything in the world has cracks. Everything seen with the eyes, even the golden bodies of gods, and the unseen, even the Dao heart of cultivators, is not a complete One. This path cannot be traveled. No matter how Cui Chan exhausts himself in a lifetime, he will never find it. It's destined to be futile. Otherwise, why would the Three Ancestors come here? If the Dao and the One were some concrete thing, wouldn't that cause another upheaval?"
Cui Dongshan complained, "What kind of bastard is that? I'm Dongshan!"
The old temple master chuckled.
Cui Dongshan swayed his shoulders, muttering like a schoolteacher reciting classics: "Is the Dao near? The eyes do not see the eyelashes. Is the Dao far? Touch things and it's real. Is the sage near? The stars of Shen and Shang appear and disappear. Is the sage far? Enlightenment is divinity."
The old temple master smiled, "Back then, Cui Chan at least had the bearing of a scholar. If you had been like this back then, I can guarantee you wouldn't have made it out of the Lotus Flower Blessed Land."
Cui Dongshan patted his chest as if frightened.
The old temple master took a sip of tea, "A good daughter-in-law mediates between both sides; a bad one gossips. Mediating between both sides often makes both sides hard to please."
Cui Dongshan wiped the table with his sleeve, rolling his eyes, "Senior, that remark is not quite appropriate."
Seeing the guy continue to play dumb, the old temple master turned to look at the woman who was walking down the steps with stepping techniques. "Is this the boxing disciple you picked?"
Zhu Lian smiled, "Not a registered disciple. Besides, with my meager martial skills, it wouldn't be fitting for a woman to learn them."
The old temple master disagreed, and asked the woman, "You are called Cen Yuanji?"
Cen, a small mountain that is high, describing a steep and precipitous cliff. Yuanji is a worldly brocade loom; poets use it as a metaphor for moving flower shadows.
Lu Chen always acted as he pleased, loved to cast a long line to catch a big fish, but didn't mind if he caught none.
Shi Rou of Riding Dragon Alley, or the dharma robe Gold Sweet Nectar of twisted origin—it was like only wanting the willing to take the bait, not caring about the broken lines or the fish that ate and fled.
Cen Yuanji had just stopped at the mountain gate. She knew the gravity of the situation. An old Daoist who could make Master Zhu and Cui Dongshan voluntarily come down the mountain to meet must not be simple.
For some reason, though the old Daoist's expression was normal, Cen Yuanji felt immense pressure. She cupped her fists and said, "To answer the Daoist master, my name is indeed Cen Yuanji."
Zhu Lian smiled, "Why scare a young girl?"
Cui Dongshan waved his hand, "Xiaomili, come have some melon seeds."
The black-clad little girl immediately got up from her bamboo chair and trotted over to the table. She took out all the remaining melon seeds from her cloth satchel—not much. "Here, little senior brother."
Cui Dongshan slapped his forehead and asked, "Right Protector, that's all?"
Xiaomili frowned at the new nickname, then pulled out another large handful from her sleeve pocket.
Cui Dongshan nodded, "The Right Protector is generous!"
The old temple master again asked Zhu Lian, "What about the path of swordsmanship? Are you planning to choose from the sword immortal seeds of the Sword Qi Great Wall?"
The same 'old temple master,' but the one from the Great Profound Capital Temple, Sun Huaizhong, urged Lu Chen to scatter his Dao and simply reincarnate as a sword cultivator. It wasn't entirely a joke; there was a purpose.
Of course, given Sun Huaizhong's temper, if Lu Chen really went to be a sword cultivator, no matter what, he would make Lu Chen the lowest-generation acolyte in the Profound Capital Temple, forced to call him 'ancestor' every day, or else be hung from a peach tree and beaten.
Zhu Lian smiled, "I have no face to teach others swordsmanship. That would be misleading."
A Haoran sword cultivator, thrown even into the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, would be an indisputable sword immortal.
In the history of the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, there were some unofficial records of earthly immortals, but they were unverifiable. Zhu Lian, besides bookkeeping and architecture, had also compiled official histories. He had seen many low-grade unofficial accounts—earthly immortals spitting out sword pellets, a flash of white light, beheading someone from a thousand miles away. But in his hometown, even these strange tales, when mentioning sword immortals, had no good words: 'Not the Great Dao of longevity, just a side-door technique; flying sword arts cannot achieve the Great Dao.' However, Zhu Lian's martial path, when it came down to it, came precisely from books. In this, he was exactly the same as Jia Sheng, a scholar of the Haoran Heaven—both taught themselves, solely through reading. One cultivated the Dao, the other martial arts.
When Zhu Lian first walked the martial world, he had also traveled far with a sword, visiting famous mountains and great rivers, seeking immortals and asking about the Dao.
Another hidden intention: Zhu Lian wanted to know the boundary of the world. If heaven were round and earth square, no matter how vast, there must be an end, right?
Xiaomili hadn't gone far. She turned in shock and asked, "Old cook can also wield a sword?"
Zhu Lian waved his hand, "What swordsmanship? Don't listen to such polite words from guests. Compared to Pei Qian's crazy sword technique, it's far inferior."
Cui Dongshan lowered his head to crack melon seeds, "Xiaomili, you don't know this, but our old cook, when he takes off his apron in the kitchen and goes out, his swordplay is quite good. He was very famous in the martial world of the Lotus Flower Blessed Land. It was said that on the sword of the elegant Zhu Lian were entwined the tender feelings of women. Even Yu Mi couldn't compare. Countless female knights devoted their entire lives to practicing swordsmanship just to have a match with the old cook."
Cui Chan had once followed the old scholar and traveled through the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, knowing much about the local customs.
Xiaomili quickly covered her mouth with one hand, pursed her lips tightly, and said indistinctly, "Old cook was once an elegant young master."
Zhu Lian smiled, "A good man doesn't boast of his past glory. Those are all bygone things. Matters of the martial world are based on hearsay, exaggerated as they spread."
Xiaomili nodded heavily, hummed in agreement, then turned and ran back to her bamboo chair, grinning, but not laughing out loud to spare the old cook's feelings.
That Left Protector of Riding Dragon Alley had just strolled to the mountain gate. When he looked up and saw the old Daoist from afar, he immediately turned and ran.
The old temple master glanced after him. What a pity. For some reason, Ruan Xiu had changed her mind, otherwise it would have almost fulfilled the old saying: "The toad swallows the moon; the celestial dog eats the moon."
Sui Youbian flew over on her sword from another peak. She didn't sit down; she wanted to ask this old master of the Lotus Flower Blessed Land about her teacher's matters.
The old temple master said to her, "Tell Chen Ping'an that the survival of the Golden Summit Temple in Tongyezhou doesn't matter to me, but Shao Yuanran must be kept alive. As for Ni Yuanzan, just tell him that once he sends out that golden elixir, he'll be a free man."
The orthodoxy of the Golden Summit Temple came from the Louguan School of Daoism, which 'built towers with grass, observed stars and examined qi.' As for Ni Yuanzan, who poled his boat in the Cloud Cavern Blessed Land, he was exactly a chess piece thrown out of the blessed land by the old temple master.
Sui Youbian wanted to speak but ultimately said nothing.
Zhu Lian helped smooth things over, taking the initiative and nodding, "What's so difficult about that? Just passing a message."
The old temple master asked, "That Jiang Shangzhen of the Jade Gui Sect, why isn't he on the mountain?"
Zhu Lian smiled, "He was originally supposed to stay on the mountain and go together to Tongyezhou, but our Chief Zhou got angrier the more he thought about it, so he sneaked off to the Barbarian Heaven."
Sui Youbian caught Zhu Lian's signal, quietly left, and went over to Xiaomili's side.
The old temple master looked around and sighed, "With the matter of scattering the Dao, I never thought it would be you Confucians who benefit the most. Yu Dou is probably furious."
Once the Three Ancestors simultaneously scatter their Dao, the Confucian academies, Buddhist temples, and Daoist temples will all receive benefits. The Haoran Heaven, being the most accommodating of other teachings' learning, will naturally receive the most gifts.
At the same time as the scattering of the Dao, the Three Ancestors will jointly visit the ruins of the ancient heavenly court. This huge problem, of course, they won't leave for others.
Cui Dongshan laughed, "Let Dao Number Two die of rage."
The old temple master said softly, "Just consider this: when there are no more fifteen-realm cultivators in the world, how will those who are already in the fourteenth realm view those who have the chance to become fourteenth realm?"
Cui Dongshan nodded, "The times are changing, for better or worse. I'm leaning toward the latter now."
The old temple master asked, "Now? Why?"
Cui Dongshan said seriously, "Because my master is here."
The old temple master turned to look at Zhu Lian, who might be one or even two of Lu Chen's five dreams and seven aspects.
Zhu Lian smiled, "Senior, why are you looking at me? I'm not as handsome as my young master."
The old temple master chuckled, "Truly a fine place. I did not come in vain. The family tradition is very upright."