Chapter 315: Immortal Strokes My Head

With the prior excellence of swordsmen Old Huang and the old man in sheepskin, visiting the Wu family ruins no longer seemed particularly important.

Xu Fengnian passed the Wu family ruins without entering. He walked up the northern slope and discovered a peculiar complex of buildings halfway up the shaded side of the mountain – a blend of temple and Taoist monastery. Blue and white-robed Taoist priests mingled with red-robed lamas, each soliciting worshippers. Xu Fengnian, munching on dried green fruit and dates, walked around the faded red-lacquered outer wall. He stopped at the back courtyard gate, where a bright red Taoist peach charm hung. The couplet, written in Central Plains script, showed rare calligraphic skill, with strokes like iron hooks and silver lines, yet it conveyed a Buddhist message: "Though you may defy all laws, with this bright mirror held high, do you still dare? Know that I can forgive and pardon; lay down your butcher's knife and swiftly turn back!"

Xu Fengnian stepped over the threshold. It was dusk, and a group of red-robed lamas, having finished their evening prayers, sat on the ground in the corridor outside the hall, debating scriptures. The elderly among them were already well past seventy, while the youngest were mere seven or eight-year-olds, all dressed in fluffy red robes. Some of the more boisterous young lamas simply sat on the railing, which creaked under the strain, having been unrepaired for years. The elder lamas held prayer beads in front of their chests, their expressions varied: debaters were either spirited or deeply furrowed their brows, while listeners were either lost in thought or delighted. Xu Fengnian did not approach, standing quietly in the distance, listening with some difficulty to the Northern Barbarian verses being exchanged. As the last rays of dusk fell, a few young lamas, whose attention had wandered from the debate, spotted Xu Fengnian, the worshipper. They grinned, then turned to whisper among themselves, perhaps discussing their newly learned scriptures or the beauty of a female worshipper from that day or the day before. The low threshold between the inner and outer courtyards was only a few feet high, easily stepped over. However, the true threshold lay in entering or leaving the secular world. Xu Fengnian walked along the wall. During this time, a middle-aged monk approached him, carrying a wooden basin, his expression serene, and gave a slight one-handed bow. Xu Fengnian returned the bow. He then went to burn three sticks of incense outside the main hall, showing respect to the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. He couldn't help but think of the impending catastrophe of Dharma suppression by two dynasties, and the saying of the monk Nagarjuna: "Buddha statues and scriptures can be without, but not the Buddha's heart." He felt a pang of emotion, thinking, "The storm is brewing, a tornado on land; can an old monk from Liangchan Temple truly stop it?"

Xu Fengnian shrugged his shoulders, tightened the straps, and adjusted his book box slightly, preparing to find his way to the main gate to leave. He saw a familiar man and woman emerge from around the hall ahead. They were the same diners who had shared his table at the wine stall. The man, in a silk gown, had a face like jade, a refined demeanor, and wore a string of golden bells at his waist, which were very popular among Southern Dynasty scholars. The woman was elegant and virtuous, adorned with a golden hairpin and a phoenix step-shake ornament, possessing the modest beauty of a commoner's daughter but with the grace of a noble lady. The young, handsome man was explaining the thirty-two characteristics of Buddha to the woman beside him, and went on to differentiate between the Buddhist golden body and the Vajra state of a first-rank martial artist. His words were profound yet easy to understand, clearly demonstrating his familiarity with Buddhist allusions. The woman nodded gracefully. Xu Fengnian did not want to quicken his pace and pass them, intending not to disturb this remarkable pair, who were just shy of being a couple. However, moments later, the man turned and glared fiercely, seemingly thinking that Xu Fengnian was staring inappropriately at the woman's graceful figure. Yet, due to his upbringing, the man did not resort to harsh words. Xu Fengnian had to stop and wait for them to walk further away before proceeding. With his keen hearing, he overheard the man indignantly saying, "The Buddhist Dharma in our dynasty is already in decline and should be completely cleansed! Take these temples, for example: if anyone obstructs someone from becoming a monk, even if you're the abbot, you'll be cursed to be blind for generations to come. As a result, most monks in temples are charlatans attached to Buddhism, either engaging in deceitful schemes for wealth and women or being utterly ignorant of what Buddhism truly is. How can a place of Buddhist purity claim to be pure? They are all despicable scoundrels who deserve to be killed!"

The woman's temperament was gentle, and she seemed much more fair and peaceful in her view of people and affairs. She softly said, "Those lamas debating the scriptures seemed quite good. They didn't seem like bad people. You intentionally offered them gold and silver, but they didn't even want to touch the money; instead, they gave you a scripture book."

The man flicked the jade bells at his waist; they chimed clearly. He scoffed dismissively, "It's a general trend. One or two good monks don't make a rule."

The woman merely smiled, letting it pass. Though she had doubts, she did not argue with him.

Xu Fengnian saw them from a distance, burning incense and worshipping Heaven before a censer. To avoid unnecessarily annoying them, he simply sat on the steps, took off his book box, and rested for a moment. The toothless old peddler who sold secret manuals reminded him, for no particular reason, of Old Huang from Western Shu. It was this old swordsman, who was perhaps the least articulate, who taught Xu Fengnian the most profound yet simple truths – perhaps because truth often resides in quiet simplicity. He remembered that during his journey back to Beiliang, after parting ways with Wen Hua and before meeting White Fox Face, the two of them were no longer as disheveled as when they first set out. Though still on the move, they had become adept at navigating the world, and even without Old Huang's help, Xu Fengnian could independently steal chickens, pilfer sweet potatoes to roast, and weave straw sandals, ensuring he wouldn't starve or freeze. At that time, he happened to witness from afar a murder caused by a dispute over a secret manual. The manual was very ordinary, not even third-rate, yet it accounted for five or six lives.

"Old Huang, it seems secret manuals are really sought after in the martial arts world. My Listening Tide Pavilion has tens of thousands of them. How about we just sell them off cheap sometime? As a good deed, what do you say? Then the whole martial arts world would be eternally grateful to me, and how many young and beautiful female heroes would secretly cast glances my way? Just thinking about it is comforting."

"Young master, you can't do that. Others might not know, but if I, Old Huang, had heard about free manuals when I was young, I would have neglected my own skills. In the end, hardly anyone in the martial arts world would be willing to practice diligently."

"Old Huang, besides raising horses, what skills do you have? Besides, you're illiterate, so giving you any number of manuals would be useless. You can't read the characters, and the characters can't read you."

"Blacksmithing, that's what! Young master, you wouldn't believe it, back when I was in my early twenties, when I still had all my front teeth, Old Huang here was the most famous handsome fellow within ten li, at least the handsomest blacksmith. And there was a young lady who secretly brought me yellow wine! She wasn't much to look at, but her backside was quite shapely. I didn't even bear to drink it when I left home; I buried it in the backyard, thinking that when I returned to my hometown, I'd dig it up, and it would definitely be fragrant!"

"Only one jar?"

"She was just the daughter of an ordinary well-to-do family. Even if she really fancied my handsome looks back then, she couldn't have given more."

"With your looks, you were handsome when you were young? Then I must be handsome beyond compare!"

"That's true, I can't compare to you, young master. If you had been there, that jar of wine wouldn't have had anything to do with Old Huang."

"Alright, enough about wine. Our throats are burning from walking; we're dying of thirst."

"I understand."

"By the way, Old Huang, how many years has it been since you left home? Is that jar of yellow wine still there?"

"I can't remember how many years it's been, but it should still be there. Yellow wine can endure, unlike those grape wines you used to drink in glass cups, young master. If you ever have a chance to visit my home, I guarantee you'll have a good drink."

"Sigh, you're talking about wine again, it's making me so worried. There's smoke up ahead. Let's go ask for some water. Old rule: if a man opens the door, you ask; if it's a woman, I'll ask."

"Alright!"

"By the way, Old Huang, that jar of wine is all you have left of your worldly possessions. Are you really willing to share half of it with me to drink?"

"Why wouldn't I be willing? If you find it good to drink, young master, you can have it all."

"If it were me, I definitely wouldn't be willing. At most, I'd give you half."

"Young master is an honest person, I like that."

"Go on, go on. If you were a pretty young lady, I'd like you too."

"Sigh, it's a pity I never married. If only I had a daughter."

"With your looks, I wouldn't even fancy her. Old Huang, don't even think about that. And don't look at me with that kind of gaze."

That time, they encountered a woman leaving for work, and Xu Fengnian was the one who went to her door to ask for two bowls of cool water. He still remembered, when he happened to glance back, Old Huang was squatting to the side, his face beaming, missing a front tooth as always, looking quite comical. While drinking the water, Old Huang still good-naturedly muttered about how wonderful it would be to have a daughter.

"Old Huang, if you had a daughter, I'd marry her."

However, such words, like the yellow wine in the princely manor that never reached his lips, remained unspoken.

Xu Fengnian sat on the steps, lost in thought. For some reason, the woman spotted him. While the dashing young man went to the Taoist temple to discuss immortality with an old Taoist master, she hesitated for a moment, then approached him alone, standing at the foot of the steps with a gentle smile. Xu Fengnian's perception of the world's energy had almost reached the pinnacle of the Vajra martial arts realm, but he simply chose to ignore her. The woman did not rush to speak, seemingly pondering her words. For a woman to initiate a conversation with a man was somewhat unconventional, especially for descendants of the Southern Dynasty, who largely inherited Central Plains customs. The woman stood beneath a Dragon's Claw Scholar Tree, rare in Northern Barbarian territory. The twilight was faint, and though the tree was ancient, it was still full of flourishing branches and leaves, accentuating her graceful and unworldly presence. Unfortunately, Xu Fengnian was no longer the flirtatious young lord he once was. He merely felt it a pity that a good flower was being wasted on a pig. He had no liking for the glib young man, but this didn't mean he would step forward to save her from her plight. Too many women in the world willingly allowed their prime years to be deceived by smooth-talking men, whether they possessed superior looks or outstanding talent.

Seeing her silence, Xu Fengnian took the initiative to speak, sparing her embarrassment, and smiled, "May I ask for your name, young lady?"

He had learned this from Wen Hua. The man with the wooden sword, though unlearned, had picked up this line from somewhere, and whenever he met a girl he fancied, he would brazenly ask, "May I inquire, fair lady, what is your esteemed name and where is your abode?" During their travels together, Wen Hua had used this line dozens of times. When they last met, Wen Hua claimed he had truly fallen in love with a woman, but Xu Fengnian wasn't sure if it was true.

The woman seemed slightly vexed but still softly said, "Lu Chen."

Xu Fengnian understood instantly; she was undoubtedly a remnant of the Spring and Autumn period. When the Liyang Dynasty unified the realm, Central Plains scholars lamented it as "the land's sinking," a term describing profound national devastation. Among those named Lu who fled north, perhaps two or three out of ten in Beiliang's Southern Court were named Lu Chen, but for a woman to be named Lu Chen was still relatively rare. Xu Fengnian saw the man she was with emerge from the main hall with an old Taoist priest of immortal bearing. He stood up, put on his book box, and headed towards the main gate. The fact that Taoists and Buddhists shared the same courtyard and received incense offerings together would certainly be considered a heretical practice in the Liyang Dynasty; the customs of Beiliang were indeed unique, revealing much from just a single leaf. As Xu Fengnian left the courtyard, he recalled a fascinating anecdote from the martial arts world: "Sick Tiger" Yang Taisui went to Dragon Tiger Mountain to debate Dharma with Qi Xuanzhen, the foremost Taoist master of the century. On Lotus Peak, Qi Xuanzhen touched Yang Taisui's head, and half of the Demon-Slaying Platform collapsed. It is said that "when an immortal touches my head, my hair ties, and I gain eternal life." This shows that even in his youth, Yang Taisui had a terrible temper, yet he was able to become a lifelong friend of Xu Xiao. And Qi Xuanzhen, whose fame was unmatched at the time, was considered the previous incarnation of the cow-riding immortal.

Xu Fengnian unconsciously extended his hand and drew a circle. As he walked, he continued to draw circles. This mimicked the situation when Hong Sixiang imparted techniques on Wudang Mountain, progressing from outward similarity to spiritual resemblance.

The immortal's touch to the head.