lcionline Chapter 79: Visiting Taoism, Enlightenment, and Serving Farmers
Chapter 79: Visiting Taoism, Enlightenment, and Serving Farmers
Chapter 79: Visiting Taoism, Enlightenment, and Serving Farmers
"Miss Hong, may I ask where Master Lin has gone?"
"This servant also does not know. Young Master Lin left early this morning. Daoist Qinghong, you might as well ask someone else. Is there anything urgent? Perhaps you could leave a message and pass it on to Young Master Lin when he returns."
"I just have some sect matters I'd like to ask about, but it's nothing serious, so please don't worry about it, young lady. I'll take my leave now."
On Chaoyang Peak, Taoist Qinghong stood outside the courtyard and bowed to Hongyingniang through the low wall to say goodbye.
Watching his departing figure, Cuixiang whispered, "Miss, could it be that Daoist Qinghong came specifically to visit you?"
"What kind of wicked thoughts are you having now?"
"No...no...it's just that...this servant thinks that he was so infatuated with you before, how could he possibly turn around and abandon you? Miss, if Daoist Qinghong wants to rekindle your relationship, what should we do?"
"Of course, I politely decline." Hong Yingniang reached out and pinched the maid's little nose. "You, you, you think too badly of me, and you underestimate the heroes of the world. I was rescued by Young Master Lin, and I'm bound to follow him for life. I'll accept whatever fate may bring. As for Daoist Qinghong, do you really think he's the kind of sentimental, clingy, and emotionally unstable person?"
"He could have easily hired a Taoist priest to run errands, why did he have to come to see Young Master Lin in person? Maybe he's just using this opportunity to visit you." Cui Xiang was unaware of Lin Zhuo's current status as a Grandmaster, a position that even the head of a major sect would have to treat with respect. She thought the three of them were living under someone else's roof and had an awkward status.
"His personal visit shows his respect for Young Master Lin. It also demonstrates that the Daoist has let go of this entanglement with me. Since he has no selfishness or guilt in his heart, he treats me just like everyone else in the world."
"Miss, I still don't understand. Why did he seem to have let go of his worries when he came to see you?"
"Because those who truly can't let go often choose to avoid seeing each other. All obsessions are like this: the more you deny them, the more you admit them; the farther you run, the closer you get. You'll understand when you're older."
Cui Xiang nodded blankly, seemingly understanding but not quite.
At this moment, Qinghong Daoist, who had left Chaoyang Peak, searched everywhere, asking everyone he met, "Junior brother, have you seen where Hero Lin went?"
"Reporting to Senior Brother, I don't know."
"Master Lin spent some time in the kitchen this morning, personally cooking. After eating, he disappeared without a trace."
"Senior Brother, are you looking for Master Lin? He stayed in the Scripture Hall for a while, flipped through a few miscellaneous books, and left quickly."
After asking around for half an hour, he was hoarse from asking questions but still got nowhere.
Qinghong thought to himself, "The young master Lin has such skill and cultivation at such a young age. He must be practicing for twelve hours a day. Perhaps he has found a secluded place in Yanwei Mountain to practice martial arts. I'm afraid I won't be able to find him."
Just as he was about to give up, an old woman carrying a basket walked past Qinghong.
She had a full head of white hair, wrinkled skin, and thin bones. Her ten fingers were covered in mud. Her basket contained fresh autumn vegetables: plump white radishes as thick as a child's arm, bright green bok choy dripping with water droplets, white garlic cloves that looked shy and timid, and bright red chili peppers that resembled little fingers.
Qinghong did not know this female Taoist, but he knew that there were many reclusive Taoists practicing in seclusion in Yanwei Mountain.
The White Egret Sword Sect has a long history. The sect's headquarters has been expanded, destroyed, shrunk, and rebuilt several times. Countless abandoned and old buildings are scattered among the mountains. Many Taoists who have a connection with the sect often guard these old places.
They cultivate their own land, detached from worldly affairs. When they have surplus food, they bring it to their sect in exchange for hard-to-obtain resources such as salt, cloth, and medicine.
"The old monk is compassionate." Qinghong bowed respectfully.
Kun Dao put down her basket and bowed in return. A smile appeared on her usually calm and expressionless face. When she started to speak, she became somewhat rambling, as if her language skills had deteriorated significantly due to not communicating with anyone for too long. She babbled on and on.
Qinghong listened half-heartedly and guessed, "Old cultivator, what happened to the residence? A strange person came these past two days? He's not a cultivator? Hmm, he is, but he's not wearing a Taoist robe? How old is this person? Oh, he looks about the same age as me, maybe a little younger. He has a cat with him? A talking monster? Okay, I know, please take me there, I recognize this person."
Kun Dao smiled and nodded, handing the vegetable basket to the kitchen cook. She then led Qing Hong slowly back. She had no martial arts skills and was old and weak. The mountain path was rugged and steep, making it very difficult to walk. Some sections looked like only goats could cross, and one could easily fall off a cliff.
Qinghong was worried for her and kept a close watch on her. But the old woman's steps were quite steady. When she encountered a downhill slope, she would turn around and walk backwards, one step at a time, without slipping or missing a step, as if every protrusion of the jagged rocks had grown to accommodate her steps.
After walking for nearly an hour, past noon, the autumn sun was quite scorching. Qinghong followed Kundao through the overgrown vines and into a secluded valley. A stream babbled through the valley, and there were several ancient temples scattered around, most of which were abandoned and collapsed. Only the main hall, which enshrined the statues of gods, still had some life.
The flat land beside the stream is farmland, part of which is newly reclaimed wasteland, and the other part is neatly tended by the female gardener. Broad beans and peas climb neatly on A-frame bamboo trellises, while chili peppers and eggplants guard individual wooden trellises.
Several acres of rice paddies have already been harvested. On the overgrown brick square, a man is holding a wooden flail, repeatedly raising and lowering it to strike the rice ears spread out on the ground, threshing the rice grains.
Beside the man was a tabby cat that walked upright on two legs, standing in the strong autumn wind, holding a wooden hoe, scooping up the threshed grains, and tossing them high into the air, letting the wind blow away the chaff mixed in, while the heavy grains fell like a light rain.
Taoist Qinghong was stunned for a long time.
He certainly couldn't have imagined that a young master like Lin Zhuo would give up martial arts training and devote himself to farm work.
There is a saying that "the poor are scholars, the rich are warriors." This saying means that scholars in this world live in poverty while warriors live in wealth. It also means that practicing martial arts requires financial support, and only by detaching oneself from production and practicing day and night can one achieve something.
Although the Taoists of the White Egret Sword Sect also organize labor, it only involves craftsmanship and they basically do not engage in farming.
The food, building materials, and raw materials they used daily were still purchased and transported from the foot of the mountain, since they could obtain them from the landlords throughout Tiannan Prefecture.
Merchants collect taxes, businesses are everywhere, and they have so much money they don't know what to do with it.
Qinghong has been practicing Taoism and martial arts on the mountain since he was a child, and his hands have never touched the yellow soil.
He didn't understand why Lin Zhuo didn't enjoy the honored treatment of a distinguished guest in the sect, but instead insisted on doing farm work in this remote valley, taking off his imposing and fierce outfit and changing into coarse cloth, where he was baked by the sun and sweated profusely.
"Lin—Great Hero. This humble Taoist greets you."
Lin Zhuo straightened up, using the flail in his hand as a support, and revealed a bright smile. If it weren't for his muscular physique that couldn't be concealed, he would really look like one of the millions of simple young farmers in the world.
"What business does Master Qinghong have with me?"
"I have heard the whole story from that day in the main hall, and I know that the Demonic Sect is eyeing us covetously. I am always worried about this, so I would like to ask if my White Heron Sword Sect can avert this calamity?"
After exchanging greetings, Lin Zhuo continued to thresh the grain with the flail, casually explaining, "Only after Sect Leader Chang Mingzi eliminates Mo Weiren can your sect be free from worry. But the time is not yet right, so let's be more patient."
Qinghong trusted Lin Zhuo's words and relaxed a little upon hearing them.
He did not rush to leave, but silently observed the young master's every move.
Lin Zhuo met Kun Dao in the kitchen yesterday. After exchanging a few words with her, he learned that she made a living by farming nearby, so he followed Kun Dao to this valley.
Farmland, soil, weeds—these were all unfamiliar and new to Lin Zhuo.
This pampered young man, born and raised in a city with an artificial dome, has seen crops soaking in nutrient solutions in hydroponic buildings, and food production plants that use carbon dioxide to synthesize starch and protein. He has also touched artificially synthesized organic soil in parks, with fine, regular particles and a slippery feel, like tiny plastic beads.
But the natural soil, nurtured by both geological and biological movements, gave him a completely different tactile experience: a fishy, musty smell, and earthworms, millipedes, and centipedes crawling around in the mud.
For the past two days, Zhu Baixuan has been explaining the key points of understanding runes to newcomers in the team channel.
[The Great Swordsman Loves Noodles]: Don't be fixated on the strokes and shapes of the runes, and don't hold onto any obsessions. Let the runes in your mind spontaneously forget and disappear. Don't chase after illusions; the more you try to catch them, the less you can see them clearly, because the process of forgetting is the power of the runes acting on your mind. [The Great Swordsman]: Let your mind resonate with the runes, feel the phenomena and laws they explain, and slowly resonate with them. Become complacent and forget yourself; that is, forget yourself first before you can be complacent. You will find that as the degree of resonance increases, the speed at which these runes are forgotten becomes slower and slower. [The Great Swordsman]: Everyone's thoughts and personality are different. First, find the runes that best match your personality, then see which kind of primordial energy these runes correspond to in all things in nature, and then use your body to truly feel their existence. Lin Zhuo, as a newcomer, started by drawing runes.
The scribbled symbols correspond to the primordial energy of the mortal realm, including wind, water, soil, dust, trees, rocks, metal, glass, and so on. Most of the things we see every day are mortal energy.
Each form, movement, and spirit of primordial energy can correspond to one or more talismans.
For example, water, a vital substance, has three phases according to its form: ice, vapor, and liquid; and according to its motion, it has four phases: flow, boiling, stagnation, and rising.
The five elements, according to their spirit, include methods such as gentleness, calmness, lightness, purity, and turbidity.
It is said that as long as one masters all the runes of a certain elemental energy, it is possible to combine and piece together a true rune, thereby gaining fundamental control over that elemental energy.
These days, Lin Zhuo has been trying to draw various talismans of vital energy, and by recording the time he forgets them, he judges the degree of compatibility with this kind of vital energy.
He tried wind and water, and various plants and metals, but he forgot most of them as soon as he turned his head. He found that the best compatibility was with earth and stone, which could at least last for a few more seconds before the memory of the runes was erased by his magic.
Whenever Lin Zhuo bent down to touch the earth, the talismans describing dust, mud, and rocks, the talismans describing bearing, absorbing, and falling, and the talismans describing dullness, inclusiveness, and perseverance, all seemed like ships moored at the ferry, not yet swallowed by the forgotten torrent. They told this martial artist about their power and spirituality little by little, allowing him to listen with his own hands, sweat, and labor.