Chapter 122: The Extra Man in the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books
The Pope gazed into the depths of the night and said, "This is sending him to his death."
A voice in the darkness replied calmly, "What is death? So many of the imperial clan died back then."
The Pope was silent for a long time, the sea of stars deep in his eyes gradually calming. "You are not of the imperial clan, so why can you never let these matters go?"
The voice in the night was steady and firm: "This is His Majesty's final decree."
The Pope knew that the "His Majesty" he spoke of was not the late emperor, but the most extraordinary sovereign of all ages—Emperor Taizong.
This conversation had begun many years ago with a letter sent from Xining Town to the capital.
This debate had started two and a half years ago, when that youth named Chen Changsheng stepped into the abandoned campus of the National Academy.
It seemed it should end with this night's talk.
Yet even at this moment, the Pope still hadn't made up his mind, like that green leaf in the basin, gently swaying in the night breeze.
This didn't mean he lacked his own stance or that his Dao heart was unsteady. On the contrary, it was because he had too much to consider, far and wide, down to the smallest detail, that it was so hard for him to decide.
"Aside from me, no one knows that your greatest skill lies in the Scroll of Time, also known as the Western Flow Canon."
It was as if a gaze in the darkness fell upon the small pool in the hall, then onto the wooden ladle by its edge.
That person said to the Pope, "You are the clear water flowing westward. Though you've flowed for a thousand years, you've never picked up a speck of dust or filth. You are clear to the bottom, gentle yet possessing endless divine power. So... you don't need to decide now. At the final moment, you will eventually discover your own heart."
After these words, no sound came from the darkness again.
The Pope stood on the stone steps, looking at the shadows of the upturned eaves, standing before the sound of flowing water, his robe hem and the green leaf gently swaying in the night breeze.
"Senior Brother, you cultivate the Way of Following the Heart's Will, so you're that confident that my heart's will will follow yours?"
...
...
After leaving Xining Town, Yuren followed his master to many places. But whether it was the snowfields of the Cold Mountains or the wilderness below the Embrace Snow Pass, he didn't like them much—too few people. The White Emperor City by the Red River didn't leave a deep impression on him either, though he was a bit happy when he heard that the demon princess was actually his junior brother's student.
He'd been in a good mood these past few days, not because this was the capital, his hometown.
He had been raised by his master since childhood, with only vague memories of his early years, long since unclear. His master told him he was from the capital and had lived here, but he couldn't recall where his home was. And he didn't like the capital—for a different reason than the snowfields and wilderness. He thought there were too many people here.
Too many people in the capital, too few in the snowfields and wilderness. Xining Town had just the right amount—neither too many nor too few. That was best.
He didn't know why his master had taken him to so many places or why they'd come to the capital. He was just worried about his junior brother's health and wanted to see him. But after his master brought him to the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books, he vanished quietly, telling him not to leave the mausoleum, saying that in a few days, he would naturally meet his junior brother.
Watching his master's disappearing figure, he thought it over and decided this was fine. No matter what trouble his junior brother faced, with their master around, it could always be resolved. Besides, there really were too many people in the capital, and he truly didn't like it. The Mausoleum of Heavenly Books had just the right number of people, with green trees and flowing water. It easily reminded him of the mountain behind Xining Town, the stream there, and the happy days he'd spent with his junior brother reciting the Dao Canon and catching fish. He'd heard that when his junior brother comprehended the Dao while observing the steles, he had drawn down the starlight of the entire sky. This made him proud and happy, so he felt he had even more reason to like this place.
There was also something very important—in the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books, he could observe the Heavenly Book Steles. He had read through the Dao Canon since childhood, and aside from the final volume, he had already mastered all three thousand scrolls. Like Chen Changsheng, his master hadn't taught him how to cultivate, but he naturally felt a closeness to the steles that hid the ultimate principles of the Dao, wanting to see something interesting from them.
When his master left the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books, he told him not to leave but didn't forbid him from observing the steles. He prepared two days' worth of food in that small courtyard, leaned on his crutch by the bamboo fence, watched the sunlight shift twice, and decided there should be no problem. So he packed his lunch box, left the Plum Grove, and followed the mountain path up toward the mausoleum.
The Grand Examination was still a long way off. Because of last year's opening of the Zhou Garden, the Stone Conference, and the many incidents that followed, the stele observers in the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books had gradually left. The number of cultivators still inside now was very small compared to previous years. He walked on the mountain path for a long time without meeting a single person, until he reached the first stele pavilion.
In front of this pavilion, he met a stele attendant named Ji Jin. This attendant had a very gentle temperament, carrying a kind of detachment and calm that came from seeing through the world. It gave Yuren a good feeling. He thought to himself, the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books truly was a sacred place for cultivation. After observing steles for a long time, did one's temperament naturally improve like this?
That stele attendant, Ji Jin, asked which sect or mountain gate he belonged to and why he had entered the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books to observe steles at this time.
Yuren didn't know how to answer. Fortunately, he couldn't speak anyway. He rested his crutch against a pavilion pillar and made a few gestures with one hand, unsure if the other could understand.
Ji Jin couldn't understand his sign language, but he saw Yuren's disability, felt sympathy, and didn't ask further. He even reminded him not to push himself while observing the steles and to rest well.
Watching the stele attendant leave along the mountain path, Yuren wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, a hint of smugness in his eyes. He thought to himself, his junior brother was wrong—he could deceive people. It was just that in Xining Town, there was no need to. See? He had just successfully fooled a senior.
The first Heavenly Book Stele in the Mausoleum was the Zhaoqing Stele.
Yuren dragged his leg slowly to the stele, looked at it, curious and excited, even unable to resist reaching out to touch it. He found this stele truly interesting. The poem written by a former sage was wonderful. The feel of his fingers on it was really pleasant—cool and smooth, like the little stream behind the mountain in Xining Town.
Then he came to the second Heavenly Book Stele.
This stele was also very interesting. He looked at it with great interest, feeling the lines were so beautiful, like the light cut through the autumn leaves on the mountain behind Xining Town.
Then he came to the third Heavenly Book Stele.
This stele was even more interesting. The marks on its surface were still clear, the lines still beautiful, but not as intricate as the first two. In his eyes, they became extremely simple lines.
Simplicity didn't mean it wasn't beautiful, nor did it mean it was easy to understand. It was like the rainy season in Xining Town—the lines of water falling from the eaves of the old temple, or the traces of yellow leaves dancing as they were beaten down by the rain. To figure out the patterns in those traces, Yuren spent quite a bit of time this time, even setting his crutch aside and sitting on the ground to think for a while.
Then came the fourth Heavenly Book Stele.
The fifth.
The sixth.
The seventh.
...
...
He didn't know how much time had passed.
Yuren arrived before a stele pavilion. Leaning on his crutch, he tilted his head slightly and looked at the stele beneath the pavilion, finding it strange.
Because the stele was broken. The original surface was nowhere to be seen.
He didn't know that this broken stele had been shattered by a man named Zhou Dufu back then. With this broken stele as the boundary, the steles he had already seen were all called the Front Mound Steles.
He knew that his junior brother had observed the steles smoothly in the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books last year, which made him proud, but he didn't know about the saying of "observing all the Front Mound Steles in a single day."
He looked up at the sky and saw that the sun hadn't yet reached its zenith, and the weather wasn't too hot, so he decided to keep looking.
At this point, it hadn't even been half a day since he entered the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books.
How do you observe a broken stele? He didn't know either.
He slowly walked up to the broken stele and reached out to touch the jagged edges on it.
After a moment, he withdrew his fingers, thoughtful, and looked around. He found himself still in front of this broken stele.
He shifted his crutch to the other side, tucked it under his broken arm, and used his free right hand to scratch his itchy back. Puzzled, he thought to himself, "Which way should I go now?"
The autumn wind in the mountain mausoleum gently stirred, lifting the hem of his washed-out Daoist robe and blowing the black hair from his forehead, revealing his eyes.
One of his eyes couldn't see, but who knew if it could perceive other things?
He walked to the wild forest behind the stele pavilion, reached out to push aside the prickly branches, and peered inside curiously.
There was a faint path there, likely trampled out, but it was almost overgrown with weeds. It must have been years since anyone had walked it.
Looking at the narrow, treacherous trail, Yuren's face showed hesitation. But after thinking it over, he still propped himself on his crutch and limped inside.
The wild grass gradually swallowed his figure. The desolate path stretched on beneath his feet and crutch.
He didn't know how much time passed before he finally emerged from this wild forest and arrived before another stele pavilion.
He raised his arm, wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve, and felt his face was a bit hot. He thought to himself, luckily he hadn't gotten lost, or it would have been troublesome—he couldn't call out for help.
He walked under the stele pavilion and began to observe the stele.
This was no longer the Front Mound.
Of the thirteen steles in the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books, he had already reached the second.
After Zhou Dufu broke the stele in the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books back then, Yuren was the first person to walk directly here.
Of course, he didn't know this. He continued observing steles, continued moving forward, looking at one stele after another.
When he felt hungry, he took out his lunch box from his robe and ate. When thirsty, he found mountain springs to drink.
The food in the lunch box was simple—stir-fried cured meat with green peppers.
The cured meat he had found hanging from a beam in the kitchen of some abandoned courtyard. The green peppers he had picked from an untended vegetable patch.
The sun set, stars filled the night sky. The sun rose, stars retreated behind the light. The clear mountain streams flowed slowly, like time itself.
He didn't know which day it was when Yuren found his lunch box empty. Neither the stir-fried cured meat with green peppers nor the fermented tofu had any leftovers.
He was truly hungry now, so he turned back along the same path. As he passed the stele pavilions, he finally saw some cultivators.
After days of seeing only silent forests and stone steles, finally seeing people made Yuren happy. He nodded in greeting to those cultivators.
But those cultivators looked at him as if they were seeing a ghost.
Who was this person? Why had they never seen him before? Why was he coming back from ahead? Had he already seen the next Heavenly Book Stele?