Chapter 854: A Caged Bird
The young Daoist boy stood on the steps where Old Man Yang of the herbal medicine shop often sat, holding his tobacco pipe, puffing out clouds of smoke.
Chen Ping'an stood beneath the eaves, made a proper Daoist bow of greeting, and remained silent.
It wasn't that Chen Ping'an was being deliberately mysterious; rather, he truly didn't know how to answer. His main concern was still involving Li Liu, so he had no choice but to grit his teeth and keep his mouth shut.
The young Daoist boy flicked his sleeves, returned a perfectly respectable Confucian bow, and smiled without speaking.
The boy sat down on the steps and extended a hand. "Make yourself at ease. We're all guests here, so don't be too particular."
I am a passing traveler, and for now you are too. Later, that might not be the case.
Chen Ping'an moved to sit on the long bench, separated from the boy by the open courtyard that allowed rainwater to gather from four sides. They sat facing each other.
There was no need to guess the identity of the young Daoist boy before him.
He had once ridden an ox through the passes, roaming leisurely through the Barren Wastes. With a casual point of his finger, he had sent an ancient demon on the old throne back to the bottom of an ancient well, leaving behind an indelible Dao mark that would last for millennia.
He had even forced Great Ancestor of the Nascent Rising to flee beyond the heavens, too afraid to show his face.
Even the venerable Daoist Sun of Grand Mystery Observatory—a man of such profound attainment that he would "inquire about the truly invincible every few days"—was said to have traveled through the haoran world. Whenever he spoke of Bai Ye and others, he would always bring up the Dao Ancestor who founded the Jade Capital, taking pride in it, swearing that the greatest fighter beneath heaven was still the one in our Azure World.
In front of the Dao Ancestor, feigning ignorance while knowing the truth was meaningless. As for pretending to understand while being clueless, that was even more laughable.
The Dao Ancestor glanced at Chen Ping'an's Fourteen Realm aura and chuckled. "The character 'li' (propriety) is difficult because it requires both genuine emotion and logical reasoning, without being rigid. That little master of yours is quite impressive."
Then the Dao Ancestor revealed the celestial secret in one sentence: "The fact that you can accommodate Lu Chen's realm with so little dissipation is not merely because of the Rites Sage and Lu Chen. It has much to do with your own considerable skill in 'empty boats.' The Dao gathers in emptiness; emptiness is the heart's fasting. One who empties oneself finds heaven and earth vast. Among the people you know, Zhou Mi, Cui Chan, Qi Jingchun, Zheng Juzhong, and Wu Shuangjiang are all similar scholars. To put it crudely, a person with an empty stomach can eat more. Why are cultivators of the Dao different from ordinary people? What does it mean to enter the mountains and cultivate immortality? It is simply to hollow out a mountain into a dwelling, to move out the seven emotions and six desires, the distracting thoughts and turbid qi of mundane people, and to move in the spiritual qi of heaven and earth, the fortunes of the Dao, and the rewards of merit."
Chen Ping'an, dressed in a blue robe, sat upright, just like a child in a schoolhouse who had just learned to read and write.
Nowadays, mountain-top cultivators across several worlds, whether at the Ascension Realm or the Fourteen Realm, dared not speak Zhou Mi's name directly, for fear of leaking earthly secrets to the heavens.
The Dao Ancestor smiled. It seemed this fellow was still in the dark. That was normal. Among the Three Teachings and the Hundred Schools of Thought, would they let the One gain the approval of the Sword Holder from such a young age? And with two senior brothers watching over him, naturally Chen Ping'an would never guess that I, all these years on my long journeys, had not only traveled by candlelight but also carried a lantern in broad daylight.
But the Dao Ancestor was in no hurry to reveal this. He asked, "You have been close to the Buddhist teachings since childhood and have considerable insight into affirmation and negation. Then you must know the 'Threefold Meaning'?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "The Buddha said the world is not the world, therefore it is called the world."
The Dao Ancestor said with a gentle smile, "Good words. But can you elaborate further? Give an example. The principle is like the emptiness of heaven and earth; the example is like a relay station or a ferry, so that the listener has a place to stand. Otherwise, when the wise speak of principles, it's like riding a crane to Yangzhou."
Chen Ping'an said, "Master Su wrote a poem: 'Xia clouds of Danzhou and the Qiantang tide, if not seen, a hundred regrets cannot be dispelled. But when you arrive, there is nothing else, the Xia clouds of Danzhou and the Qiantang tide.'"
The Dao Ancestor said, "Speak again."
Chen Ping'an replied, "The Dao that can be spoken is not the eternal Dao."
The Dao Ancestor laughed. "No wonder Master Su was more generous in giving you his calligraphy than Liu Qi. And no wonder the Daoist Sun looked upon you with such favor. When he returned home, he told everyone he met that in the haoran world there was a young Dao-friend who was quite a wonderful person."
Chen Ping'an felt a little embarrassed. Had his reputation already spread throughout the streets before he even set foot in the Azure World? Was this what they meant by 'good wine needs no bush'?
The Dao Ancestor asked, "Have you ever wondered how your two senior brothers dared to catch a turtle in a jar? Ten thousand years ago, we three failed to completely eliminate the lingering threat of the Old Heavenly Court ruins. Now that Zhou Mi has taken residence there, it can only be more difficult. And now the three of us are about to disperse our Dao. When it comes to flood control, dredging is always better than blocking. Cui Chan and Qi Jingchun are not shortsighted men; surely they understand this? Think again: why is Zhou Mi leading the multitude to ascend to heaven? What is he waiting for? Filling divine vacancies is like the Imperial Observatory of a secular dynasty—one person, one slot."
The Dao Ancestor smiled at this point. "Zhou Mi can't just be waiting for us to block his door, can he?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "This junior cannot understand."
"Because there is one thing in the human world that even Zhou Mi, with all his meticulous plans, overlooked."
The Dao Ancestor raised his arm and pointed at Chen Ping'an. "You. The caged bird."
Zhou Mi in heaven, Chen Ping'an in the mortal world. There exists a tug-of-war of heart-nature between them, ultimately deciding who can become a newer, more powerful One.
Fallen Mountain? The soul returns to heaven, the spirit returns to earth.
Of course, Zhou Mi must have his own methods, a different path, a new approach, seeking a solution. He would never just sit back and wait for death.
The Dao Ancestor said, "So the Azure Lad Celestial Lord left a letter for you, asking if you have eaten your fill."
Chen Ping'an's heart immediately tensed. He clenched his fists loosely on his knees, took a deep breath, and asked in a low voice, "Am I... that One?"
The Dao Ancestor laughed. "Qi Jingchun indeed placed a very heavy burden on your shoulders early on."
Chen Ping'an suddenly understood.
Why had a figure like Zouzi, who calculated all celestial matters, targeted an orphan from Mud Vase Alley so early? Zouzi should have long seen through life and death and transcended good and evil.
When Chen Ping'an was young and gathered herbs in the mountains, he was blocked by a mountain flood. Later, Old Man Yang taught him a breathing and exhaling technique. In exchange, Chen Ping'an crafted a tobacco pipe.
When Chen Ping'an returned from the Great Sui capital, Old Man Yang gave him a flying sword, which Chen Ping'an named "Fifteen." Old Man Yang's reason was, "Doesn't every family eat dumplings on New Year's Eve?"
Add to that the flying sword embryo originally named "Little Fengdu." Fifteen and First Day: the saying goes, 'You can dodge the first day of the Lunar New Year, but you can't dodge the fifteenth.'
Unexpectedly, it seemed the hardest thing for Chen Ping'an to dodge was himself.
When he set out again to deliver a sword to Ning Yao at the Sword Qi Great Wall, he had qi talismans pasted on his legs.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Was it me from the very beginning?"
The Dao Ancestor shook his head. "That would be underestimating the Azure Lad Celestial Lord's methods. This 'One' is something you sought out for yourself."
Chen Ping'an breathed a sigh of relief and asked directly, "May I ask the Dao Ancestor, can this matter be resolved, and I still remain myself?"
The Dao Ancestor laughed. "Seek blessings for yourself."
Chen Ping'an was speechless.
The Dao Ancestor, perhaps worried that Chen Ping'an might misinterpret—after all, a perfectly good saying had been twisted in the world to mean something far from its original intent—added one character: "One who seeks blessings for oneself receives much blessing."
Chen Ping'an asked, "If Li Liu or Ma Kuxuan saw those writings, whose handwriting would it be?"
All along, Chen Ping'an had mistakenly thought those writings were from Li Liu or Ma Kuxuan.
The Dao Ancestor shook his head. "Not necessarily. What Li Liu saw might have been the handwriting of Dong Shuijing, who seemed to be collecting debts for others, or Lin Shouyi, who 'guards the Dao with a single heart.' What Ma Kuxuan saw might have been the fire god Ruan Xiu, or the water god Li Liu. What Gu Can saw might have been Song Jixin, or Zhao Yao who 'adds the finishing touch.' What Ruan Xiu saw might have been the handwriting of Chen Ping'an from Mud Vase Alley, or Liu Xianyang. The only thing certain is that no matter who saw it, it wasn't their own handwriting."
The Dao Ancestor smiled. "When you make up your mind about something, you will constantly look for reasons and arguments to support that perception. A potter, a butcher, an undertaker, a carpenter, a woodcutter looking for firewood, a fisherman seeking fish—because each has a different skill, they will each see the same world with different emphases."
Chen Ping'an frowned repeatedly, then asked tentatively, "Are those writings similar to the Candlelight Town? Like a confluence in the river of time? So anyone could be the one who carved the characters, and at the same time, no one is?"
The Dao Ancestor gave a non-answer. "The reason the Azure Lad Celestial Lord set up this restriction was to ensure that none of you young people would have to strain yourselves too much on your future cultivation path. Also, he was even more worried that after the Pearls and Caverns shattered and took root, once the barrier isolating celestial mechanisms was lost and the younger generation began traveling abroad, they would too early reveal traces of that One."
Regarding the direction of the river of time, this was a considerable taboo. Cultivators had to explore and study it on their own.
The Dao Ancestor laughed. "Now, can you answer the earlier question?"
Chen Ping'an instinctively turned his head and looked toward Mud Vase Alley.
From the little alley to the herbal medicine shop: if you had money to buy medicine, even in snowy weather on muddy roads, your steps would be light. If you had no money in your pocket, even in the spring bloom, the same journey would make you stagger and feel exhausted.
Why was this? Because of the state of mind. The Dharma does not arise in isolation; it depends on circumstances. Trekking through mountains and fording rivers without dragging through mud and water—this is what Buddhism calls 'removing the mind, not removing the matter.' Besides, his own teacher had specifically annotated the saying, "The human heart is precarious; the Dao heart is subtle."
When he was young and fired porcelain, the greatest lesson was nothing more than the four characters: "heart follows hand." Where the heart leads, the hand transforms.
Chen Ping'an said, "It's not having to wander the streets alone just to find a copper coin on the ground, nor having to wait for others to open their doors. I don't think any of that was hard."
The Dao Ancestor asked with a smile, "Did you ever find a coin?"
Chen Ping'an blushed. "I did find a few."
In the night when he fought for water for others, a child lay on the ridge of a field, legs crossed, chewing on a blade of grass. Above his head, the starry river was brilliant. The child held high a copper coin he had found on the ground during the day.
The Dao Ancestor raised his hand, pointing first to his head, then to his heart. "A person's rationality is the accumulated knowledge gained through experience—the roads we have paved for ourselves. Our sensibility is innate, arising from the heart. The heart is the lord of the monarch; from it comes the spirit. Unfortunately, people are burdened by things, and the heart is enslaved by the body. Therefore, cultivation, no matter how much you say it, ultimately cannot bypass the word 'heart.'"
"Chen Ping'an, tell me: what is the essential purpose of all 'techniques' in the world?"
Chen Ping'an thought briefly and answered, "To be falsifiable and correctable."
The Dao Ancestor asked again, "And where does the Dao reside?"
Chen Ping'an replied, "It can make the heart and spirit yearn for it, unite with the myriad things of heaven and earth, and stay far away from inverted dreams."
The Dao Ancestor nodded, seeming satisfied with Chen Ping'an's answer, with a trace of emotion. "A hundred flowers bloom, a thousand boats race. The earliest human sages who transformed heaven and earth—in those turbulent years that are hard to describe with words—whether they cultivated the Dao on the mountains or pursued scholarship, it was a beautiful era."
The Dao Ancestor stood up. "Follow me to Mud Vase Alley."
Chen Ping'an rose and followed the Dao Ancestor out of the back courtyard. Su Dian and Shi Lingshan in the front of the medicine shop were completely unaware.
Stepping over the threshold, the Dao Ancestor looked toward the street and laughed. "When Qi Jingchun traveled far to the Small Lotus Cavern and before he plucked that lotus flower, he said something to me: 'The interest of cultivation lies in knowing; the joy of seeking the Dao lies in the unknown.' Well, well—teaching me how to cultivate the Dao."
Chen Ping'an smiled knowingly.
The Dao Ancestor suddenly teased, "You, as the junior disciple, aren't bad either. In your early years, before you even started practicing martial arts or learning swordsmanship, you dared to make me yield the path."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "Young and ignorant, I spoke an offensive word. Please forgive me, Dao Ancestor."
"Isn't that the truth?"
The Fallen Mountain Mountain Lord treated others with sincerity and stood straight without fear of a crooked shadow. "It is the truth."
"Then no harm done. Question your conscience at night; dry your heart's words in the sun. A person walking cannot be frightened by his own shadow."
As they walked together on the street, the Dao Ancestor asked casually, "What knowledge are you studying lately?"
For the Dao Ancestor, it seemed he could know anything; if he wanted to know, he knew. If he didn't want to know, he didn't have to—perhaps that was also a kind of freedom.
Chen Ping'an replied, "I've been reading some Daoist registers and talisman texts. Before coming here, I planned to go to the Imperial Observatory to borrow a few books."
The Rites Sage had reminded him of one thing in the capital: the key to realizing the Dao lay in written characters.
"So you're already planning your journey to the Azure World?"
"A person without long-term worries will face immediate troubles."
Chen Ping'an was worried that the moment he showed his face in the Azure World, the second headmaster of the Jade Capital might slap him to death.
But with the Dao Ancestor present, it wasn't appropriate to speak ill of his direct disciple.
"Any insights from reading?"
"The 'Dan Shu Zhen Ji' (True Record of the Elixir Book) says that talisman characters are evolved from Dao qi, so I plan to look more at Kui dragon patterns, taotie patterns, and cloud seal patterns."
The Dao Ancestor hummed in agreement. "Reading them makes one's spirit soar."
Chen Ping'an was puzzled. Not "looking" but "reading"? How does one read talisman patterns?
The Dao Ancestor turned his head and smiled. "Back in the medicine shop, you learned you are that One. At that moment, you felt no fear or worry, which could be explained by your solid Dao heart and the gift of Lu Chen's Dharma. But why was there not even a shred of lingering dread? Aren't you worried that this is the effect of pure divinity? And don't forget, your martial path is nothing but an old divine road."
Chen Ping'an's eyes were bright as he looked into the distance down the street. The thoughts of a Fourteen Realm great cultivator directly manifested in the Great Dao: a light rain began to fall on the street as he walked. "Then I'll just put my feet on the ground and walk to find out."
The Dao Ancestor smiled.
This fellow was quite similar to that stubborn old Chen Qingdu. No wonder they were so compatible despite the vast difference in their generations.
Very swordsman-like.
Chen Ping'an turned back to look at the medicine shop.
Afterward, the two walked together toward Mud Vase Alley. The Dao Ancestor recounted some old histories that even the Jade Capital didn't record.
"Someone once went upstream along the river of time, tracing back to the source to find his original face. The result was nothing."
"Someone tirelessly tried to find two completely identical flowers in heaven and earth. Half a day—the entire river of time of a world stopped for half a day. His Dharma finally gave out and scattered into the world. That person laughed and said, 'If I hear the Dao in the morning, I can die content in the evening.'"
"Another man roamed far with his sword, splitting heaven and earth, seeking an answer: Who is the person beyond people? What is the heaven beyond heaven? Can you guess how he split heaven and earth?"
Chen Ping'an immediately thought of his senior brother Cui Chan's meeting on the Sword Qi Great Wall, when he slapped his arm. He answered, "Using the technique of reversing the mustard seed and Mount Sumeru, turning inward into the small world of the human body, seeking internal self-evidence?"
But the Dao Ancestor didn't give an answer. He had already changed the subject. "The teachings outside the scriptures are not established in words. Words are also characters. So someone scattered his Dao, trying to break the barrier of words, setting a period of a thousand years. Chaos, the sea of consciousness—dark and obscure."
"Someone insisted on investigating: before the ancient gods, what existed? What created the gods?"
"Then someone else became curious: Is the river of time a straight line with no trace or end? Or a circular form that revolves without end? Or is it composed of countless uncuttable points? Could it be that the ancient gods once created sentient beings, only to eventually hand them over to humanity to create gods in the future?"
Chen Ping'an remained silent, but he couldn't help being curious: Had the Dao Ancestor ever succeeded in reaching the boundary? What had he seen? What exactly was the so-called Dao?
The Dao Ancestor laughed. "You almost became Lu Chen's recommendation for master's discipleship, becoming my final closed-door disciple. Lu Chen clearly thinks farther than you give him credit for. He went to the Jade Capital. The 'caged bird'—by closing the door, it becomes even more apt."
Chen Ping'an was stunned.
"But over at the Jade Capital, it seems I still have the final say. Even face to face with the Supreme Sage, I still say: If you had become my final closed-door disciple, where would you need to toil so hard? Just sit alone in meditation in the Jade Capital, cultivate the Great Dao, and be the fourth headmaster. At least for ten thousand years, you'd have no worries... Listen, your Supreme Sage is truly not surprising at all—out pops another 'Three Character Classic.'"
Chen Ping'an pretended not to hear those three characters.
Unexpectedly, the Supreme Sage, a consummate scholar of heaven and earth, was also a man of emotion...
The Dao Ancestor seemed to be speaking to the Supreme Sage, laughing. "Who is the old master rolling up his sleeves for? If I remember correctly, that early sword of his was taken by one of his proud students to the Barren Wastes."
Chen Ping'an's mind stirred.
Among the earliest seventy-two worthies of the Confucian temple, two piqued Chen Ping'an's curiosity the most. It was not unusual for sacrificial sages to be learned, being direct disciples of the Supreme Sage. But one was famously good at making money, and the other was exceptionally good at fighting. However, in later Confucian temple history, both seemed to have retreated behind the scenes early, disappearing without a trace. They neither founded literary traditions in the haoran world nor followed the Rites Sage to the outer heavens. Yet even though he was very curious, Chen Ping'an never asked his teacher about the inside story.
The Dao Ancestor smiled and explained to Chen Ping'an, "When many evils arise, there must be a suppression. The Confucian temple still has some hidden moves."
The Dao Ancestor suddenly asked, "Would you like to meet them?"
Chen Ping'an was about to decline, but in an instant, it was as if he had already seen a landscape painting in the distant heavens.
In the Barren Wastes, in a remote place where spiritual qi was almost non-existent, there were two adjacent thatched huts. A tall, burly man with a big beard, wearing a right-cross collar, full of wild mountain air, was chopping firewood with a woodcutter's knife.
There was also a thin, tall young man, full of scholarly air, with his hands behind his back, watching a cat on the hut's roof—a cat that had been named "Li Nu" (a servant girl). It had just leaped down from a tree, carrying a cicada in its mouth. But this cat was left by an old friend years ago; the young man was only looking after it.
The woodcutter asked, "What do you say?"
The young man nodded. "The old poetry drafts are mostly sorted. Also, I've prepared three thousand verses of 'Breaking Formation.' I'm ready to go out."
The woodcutter laughed. "Three thousand? That many? The quality must be uneven. Lucky for you, this is a barbaric land with few who know quality. Otherwise, you wouldn't even dare to announce your name. Losing face in the Barren Wastes—you're the first."
The young man grinned. "The first? With A Liang at the bottom, what do I have to fear?"
The burly man laughed heartily, put down his woodcutter's knife, clapped his hands, and walked to the back of the hut to a memorial tomb. He retrieved a broken iron sword, a tall hat, a severed rope, and a Confucian robe.
The man brushed the dust off the ancient hat, placed it on his head, and carefully retied the tassel.
Wearing the Confucian robe and carrying the sword at his waist, the man still had his big beard, but his aura was completely different.
There was an ancient saying in the haoran world: "A gentleman dies, but his hat never falls."
The young man walked into the hut, took a long sword from the wall. On the table was an oil lamp. In the haoran world, someone once "drunkenly trimmed the lamp and examined the sword."
When the young scholar held the long sword, it was as if all the edge of the world gathered in that three-foot blade.
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