Chapter 347: Southward Return, Crossing the River, Pulling the Mountain

Playing with Beacon Fires

He hadn't come with eager anticipation, nor was he leaving in disappointment. Xu Fengnian was still dressed as a traveling scholar with a satchel of books, and the red-robed spectral figure remained hidden, moving stealthily, only now carrying the head of someone who had died with a smile. After traveling three hundred *li*, he saw two riders galloping towards a thatched hut by the Ruoshui River. One of them, a man on horseback, was elegant and distinguished, with the physique of a northerner and the features of a southerner. Upon seeing Xu Fengnian, his face instantly paled. He dismounted, stumbled forward, knelt, clutched his chest, and choked back sobs, repeatedly muttering, "I knew it would be like this." Xu Fengnian understood the situation perfectly. He offered no comfort, instead coldly looking down at this illegitimate descendant, on whom Xu Huainan had placed great hopes. Such a chilling first encounter truly spoiled the atmosphere, utterly lacking the splendid 'regret not having met sooner' ambiance found in historical accounts of wise rulers and renowned ministers. The other rider was a young boy, appearing to be a page or personal attendant. Seeing his master so distraught, he also became extremely hostile towards Xu Fengnian.

The man, already an adult (past twenty), yet not yet thirty, composed his expression after a moment of distress, showing neither sorrow nor joy. He waved away the page's attempt to help him, stood up by himself, and had the page yield a horse. Master and servant shared one horse, and the three of them, with two horses, tacitly journeyed south together. Along the way, as they passed through various cities and passes, the gentle, jade-like man easily chatted and conversed amicably with the local officers, though he rarely engaged in affected courtesies or insincere pleasantries. After traversing half of the southern part of Baoping Province, circling the capital region, and nearing Jinchao Province, they stopped at an inn in a small border town to rest their horses. The two parties, who had been coldly observing each other, finally had a frank conversation. The inn's business was slow, and the vast courtyard only housed their group of three. The night was cool. The page boy, Wang Mengxi, sat on the stone steps by the courtyard gate, sighing at the starry sky. Inside the courtyard, there was a wooden table with a missing corner and several rickety bamboo chairs that creaked when sat upon. Xu Beizhi did not drink alcohol, but upon checking in, he had specifically bought a pot of the innkeeper's homemade wine, which now sat before Xu Fengnian, who was seated opposite him. Watching Xu Fengnian pour wine into a porcelain cup, Xu Beizhi calmly remarked, "They say it's a joy to meet over turbid wine, but it seems you and I lack such a destiny."

Xu Fengnian calmly asked, "Did your grandfather personally give you this name?"

Xu Beizhi twitched his lips. "It wasn't this at first. When I was six, studying in the Xu family's private school, my grandfather happened to pass by the window, called me over, and after a series of questions and answers, my name was changed to Beizhi. Oranges grown in the south are oranges; grown in the north, they become bitter oranges. I never understood the meaning behind my grandfather's choice of name until now – it was to tell me to move south, to transform from a bitter orange into a sweet one. My grandfather had good intentions, and as his descendant, I couldn't let him down. Three years after the name change, from the age of nine, I stayed by my grandfather's side, reading history and copying books, and my relationship with my parents grew distant. Perhaps His Royal Highness is unaware, but my grandfather had been paying attention to you for many years, especially from the time the King of Beiliang refused your entry to the capital, and throughout your two travels. My grandfather expended a great deal of manpower and resources to intercept first-hand information. I dare say he was the first person within Beimang to guess your identity."

At this point, Xu Beizhi's gaze shifted towards the room where Xu Fengnian was, and one hand resting on his knee trembled slightly. His other hand on the table, however, showed no unusual movement.

Xu Beizhi withdrew his gaze a moment later, his tone unruffled: "My grandfather has carried a knot in his heart for many years. The one who tied the bell must untie it. Similarly, to resolve a knot, one needs the person who tied it. Your Royal Highness's personal journey to Beimang is even more unfathomable to me than if the King of Beiliang had come. To be honest, I once suggested to my grandfather that he kill you before you even reached Ruoshui. If it's a dead end, then let one party die to end it."

Xu Fengnian smiled, drinking the wine in his cup in one gulp.

Xu Beizhi finally revealed a desolate expression, looking down at the empty tabletop before him. "I just didn't expect that for this dead knot, it would be his venerable life being cut short. Before, he even said that even if he met you, it would still be fifty-fifty as to who lived and who died."

Xu Fengnian subtly frowned as he lowered his head to drink his second cup of wine.

Xu Beizhi pursed his lips, watching Xu Fengnian slowly drink the turbid wine, then directly and almost accusingly asked, "Since you don't wish to be emperor, why come to Beimang? Why come to see my grandfather, who had remained aloof from worldly affairs for years? What heir apparent of a vassal king is as reckless as you? And what if you hand over the military power of Beiliang to Chen Zhibao?"

Xu Fengnian glanced at him, picked up an empty cup, poured wine into it, and slowly pushed it across the table towards him.

Xu Beizhi shook his head, not raising the cup. His expression faltered, and a hint of a choked voice emerged as he murmured to himself, "Right, if I don't drink, I won't know the taste of wine."

Only then did Xu Fengnian speak: "When I returned to Beiliang after my second journey, the night before I left for your Beimang, Xu Xiao frankly told me that the first time I traveled with an old servant, a fat man named Chu Lushan secretly followed me, covertly contacting no less than fifty old subordinates of Beiliang. Whether Beiliang's 300,000 iron cavalry rebelled or not depended solely on Xu Xiao's single thought. Born into a chaotic era, they hadn't become mere dogs of chaos. Xu Xiao jokingly said that even a cornered dog knows to jump over a wall. If that old schemer of his were truly pulled into playing chess with the Emperor and happened to lose on the board, he'd simply overturn the entire chessboard, and then they'd see who could be more ruthless. It was only during my second, overt journey through the jianghu that I caught a glimpse of Beiliang's latent power. Xu Xiao later said that Chen Zhibao couldn't handle such a vast inheritance. When the Six Spring and Autumn States were flattened, Xu Xiao was enfeoffed as the King of Beiliang. Chen Zhibao could have established his own domain in the Southern Marches, taking nearly eighty thousand of Beiliang's direct troops south to carve out territory and become the second non-imperial king of Liyang. Since he had refused the current Zhao Emperor then, he couldn't blame his adoptive father, who had already given him the opportunity, for being 'stingy.' In Beiliang, family rules superseded state laws."

Xu Beizhi fell into silent contemplation.

After a long while, he quietly murmured, "Resilience arises from brokenness."

Xu Fengnian changed the topic to a more relaxed one and smilingly asked, "Can you tell me the identity of that young Taoist boy? If I don't know, I'll feel uneasy."

Xu Beizhi glanced at Xu Fengnian, who was spinning an empty wine cup with his fingers, and replied frankly but distantly, "I don't know the mystery behind it. I only know that the boy arrived at the Xu family ten years ago, and he still looks like a child after all this time."

Xu Fengnian tutted, "Doesn't that confirm that profound and mysterious saying?"

Both spoke two words in unison: "Immortality."

After the words slipped out, their expressions varied. Xu Fengnian held a hidden streak of ferocity, while Xu Beizhi was filled with investigative curiosity. Xu Beizhi, having been steeped in public service since childhood by his grandfather, was an astute and adaptable person, skilled at reading expressions. Seeing the clues Xu Fengnian revealed, he paid attention but didn't ask. Unexpectedly, Xu Fengnian volunteered the information: "I have a grudge with an old turtle who achieved minor immortality while hiding on Dragon Tiger Mountain. If you truly come to Beiliang and are willing to humble yourself to aid a tyrant in his evil deeds, then you can just wait and watch the show later."

Xu Beizhi did not pick up on this topic.

Xu Fengnian stood up and said, "We're about to enter Jinchao Province. I'm afraid that with your grandfather's influence, passing through there won't be as easy as in Baoping Province. Let's get some rest soon."

Xu Beizhi hesitated, remaining silent until Xu Fengnian turned around. Only after Xu Fengnian had walked a few steps did he finally speak, his voice hoarse, "Only if you take my grandfather's head back to Beiliang will this journey not have been in vain."

Xu Fengnian, with his refined, scholarly appearance, stopped and turned to look at this man, a scholar far more genuinely learned than himself.

Xu Beizhi's hands were tightly clenched into fists on his lap. Without looking at Xu Fengnian, he said, "I also know that grandfather intended to help you boost your military prestige. After all, taking the head of the formidable former King of the Northern Court is even rarer than leading an army to destroy a hundred thousand Beimang troops. I just want to see it, just once!"

Xu Fengnian asked, "Xu Beizhi, do you not hate me?"

The exceptionally elegant and serene man gave a desolate smile. "How could I dare to hate you? Do you want my grandfather to die with unclosed eyes?"

Xu Fengnian uttered a soft "Oh," turned, and walked away, quietly leaving a remark: "It will be difficult for you to see your grandfather. I buried him by the Ruoshui River."

Xu Beizhi was stunned.

Late at night, the page boy, who had warmed the steps by sitting on them out of boredom, heard the movement and turned around. His face registered disbelief: his master, who never touched alcohol, not only raised and drained the cup but, with an expression that was neither crying nor smiling, tilted the remaining half of the wine pot and gurgled down the entire remaining amount.

The middle-aged man, whose arms hung past his knees, had once made the haughty Geng Louzi of the Qi Sword Music Pavilion sweat profusely outside the Heavenly Gate of the Daode Sect. Yet, this formidable figure, after leaving the Taoist temple to travel to the extreme northern ice plains, and before crossing the Yellow River, encountered no trouble along the way. Approaching the upper reaches of the Yellow River, he made no alarming attempt to leap across; instead, he humbly paid the boatman, crossed by raft, and was as docile as a clay Bodhisattva, showing no temper whatsoever. It should be known that among all martial artists in the world, the only one he could stand alongside, Wang Xianzhi, had only left Martial Emperor City for the first time in nearly fifty years, prompting the Liyang Dynasty to nervously dispatch thousands of iron cavalry to shadow him, fearing that this old man, who liked to call himself the second greatest under heaven, would cause trouble. Both dynasties and both jianghu circles believed the saying that if this man allied with Wang Xianzhi, they could easily kill all the remaining eight of the top ten figures in the world, which shows the immense martial power of this Beimang military god, surnamed Tuoba! If one were to assume that every top martial artist must be some greenhorn of the jianghu whose every fart shakes heaven and earth and makes ghosts weep, then even upon meeting Tuoba Pusa face-to-face, they would likely mistake a true Buddha for an ordinary person.

Everyone in Beimang knew that Tuoba Pusa did not believe in Buddhism or Taoism, but favored Buddhism while keeping his distance from Taoism. What's more, despite serving the Empress alongside the Imperial Preceptor, Qilin Zhenren, they had not met even once in twenty years. It was much like how vassal kings in the rival Liyang Dynasty were forbidden to meet each other.

On this day, the clouds were light and the breeze gentle. Tuoba Pusa, who had been exceptionally valiant and tall in his youth, stepped off the leather raft. Just as his feet touched the ground of the ferry, the surface of the Yellow River began to churn violently, as if a dragon was stirring beneath. The boatman, startled, tied his raft tightly and leaped ashore, no longer daring to earn such meager silver. Those waiting at the ferry crossing felt a mere blur, and the living, breathing middle-aged man who had just been there was gone.

In an open space, the stern Tuoba Pusa saw an old Taoist priest. The priest held a whisk, his hair and beard like snow, and his Taoist robe fluttered without wind, truly ethereal and otherworldly, possessing a rare, divine demeanor.

Tuoba Pusa's tone was flat: "Imperial Preceptor, do you know that those who block me die?"

The old Zhenren waved his whisk and laughed freely, "I am the Imperial Preceptor, but the Imperial Preceptor is not me. Whether I live or die, this humble Taoist does not mind."

Tuoba Pusa said with a look of disgust, "Playing god and ghost."

The next moment, it was as if thunder exploded around Tuoba Pusa's entire body. The man, originally short, now stood nine feet tall. His ape-like long arms no longer seemed out of place. A clay Bodhisattva crossing a river can barely save itself. When Tuoba Pusa crosses the river, even gods and Buddhas cannot stop him.

Legend had it that the Daode Sect had a great mountain floating in the sky, six hundred *zhang* above the ground, with countless palaces and pavilions upon it. Li Dangxin pulled up the river water to flood the Daode Sect, and the great waters surged out from the Heavenly Gate, washing over the jade steps. The white-robed monk drifted to the ground and walked into a narrow, verdant mountain hollow. Upon reaching its end, the space suddenly opened up. Inside the hollow, there was no magnificent complex of buildings as people imagined, but only a single Taoist temple built into the mountain. It consisted of a circular plaza with a carved Tai Chi diagram, where the two yin and yang fish intertwined. The entire plaza appeared simple and unadorned, yet remarkably clear. From the yin-yang fish pattern, mists and clouds curled upwards, reaching the sky. The white-robed monk looked up and saw dozens of giant white storks, unlike any ordinary birds, spiraling upwards. Taoists could be seen riding them, their wide-sleeved Taoist robes making them appear like immortals ascending on cranes. These Daode Sect Taoists were clearly the resident sacrificing priests of the temple, and Li Dangxin's visit, bringing the river with him as a form of reciprocation, forced them to flee into the sky. In Li Dangxin's sight, apart from the Taoists and white storks, there was indeed a great mountain floating in the air. While the Taoists ascended on white storks, a young Taoist priest floated gently down from the towering, cloud-piercing floating mountain. This sword-carrying Taoist landed at the black and white junction of the yin-yang fish, standing guard alone.

The Taoist looked to be twenty-seven or twenty-eight, possessing a distinctly effeminate charm, even a hint of allure. Li Dangxin merely glanced at him and sneered, "As expected of Qilin Zhenren, who has reached the Saint realm, your methods are truly impressive! You've even figured out the secret art of One Qi Transforming into Three Pure Ones. What, are you inviting this humble monk to pull out the nine worms and sever the three corpses? But where are the other two fake immortals? Aren't they coming out to greet guests together? That's rather petty. Now, each of the three teachings has produced a Saint. My master aside, even the Confucian Saint Cao Changqing is a bold character who dares to treat the imperial palace as a latrine. Compared to them, you, the cowering Imperial Preceptor of Beimang, are simply unpresentable."

The seemingly young Taoist smiled gently, "Li Dangxin, who has no Zen to contemplate, is now showing the wrathful gaze of a Vajra? This humble Taoist will not engage in verbal sparring with you. I will simply stand here and wait. The Dragon Tree Monk cultivated Immovable Zen by reading the Diamond Sutra. Since you insist on being so intimidating, this humble Taoist will also remain completely still today, allowing you to make your move."

Li Dangxin simply uttered a soft "Oh."

Without another word of wasted breath, he extended his arms towards the floating mountain. His white kasaya instantly clung to his majestic physique, and then his feet sank into the ground, up to his knees. The white-robed monk pulled down the entire floating mountain! It crashed down upon the young Taoist's head.

Li Dangxin entered the Heavenly Gate alone, and exited alone. He swept past nearly a thousand steps, then squatted and hoisted his master, who was entirely golden, onto his back. Several of the Daode Sect's Imperial Preceptor's senior disciples dared not stop him. The old monk was already on the verge of death. The old monk smiled and asked, "Did you win the fight too?"

The white-robed monk grunted in affirmation.

"Disciple, is there a saying down the mountain that deep love does not last long? This master doesn't know if agreeing to let you marry back then was right or wrong."

"That's not something a monastic should say."

"Truth doesn't distinguish between worldly and unworldly; if it makes sense, it is truth. Buddhist teachings aren't necessarily confined to the words in sutras, and the words in sutras aren't necessarily all Buddhist teachings. Dongxi and Nanbei, especially your daughter, are very good at explaining things. If I understood, I'd willingly let myself be 'fooled' into giving them candied haws. If I didn't understand then, I wouldn't rush to give. Sometimes, after thinking it over, I'd remember to give the girl some snacks, but she'd get stubborn and say she didn't want them anymore."

"Master, could you speak a little less? You can tell these things to my daughter yourself back at the temple."

"Too late now."

Li Dangxin's form once again swept across the surface of the Yellow River like a white rainbow piercing the sun.

"Just talking about comprehending the profoundness of Buddhist Dharma, many eminent monks at our Liangchan Temple understand more than your master. Many can even deal with the imperial court and officials; they are free people whether in the world or withdrawn from it. For this master to be the abbot, he truly occupied a position without fulfilling its duties. Ah, I've been worried these past years, and it's a good thing monastics shave off the three thousand strands of worldly vexations."

"Those of my generation, compared to this master, lacked a certain human touch. Since they haven't yet become Buddhas, aren't they all still human?"

"You mustn't say that, it hurts harmony."

"Master, that's a compliment to you."

"This master knows. I'm just afraid that if you say it in front of others later, neither you nor your master will benefit."

"Master, you're truly a rare kind of wise confusion. Nanbei learned everything from you."

"Actually, truthfully speaking, the suppression of Buddhism isn't frightening. How many Buddhist temples burned, how many sutras destroyed, how many monks driven away, this master isn't afraid of that. What I fear is that the heart of Buddhism and its dharma will not endure. The Zen of Yichan, is it not still Hinayana at present? Whether it can progress from Hinayana to Mahayana later, this master won't be able to see."

"Master, I don't want to see that day."

"Heh, as the master of Nanbei's master, I also don't wish to see that day. But this, I can only say to you."

After uttering these words, the Dragon Tree Monk, his body covered in a dry, golden hue, chanted "Amitābha" once, and then fell silent. The white-robed monk, Li Dangxin, stopped, tore off a piece of his kasaya, used it to bind his master, closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and ascended towards the Nine Heavens.

On this day, hundreds of Daode Sect Taoists and nearly ten thousand pilgrims looked up at the radiant Buddhist light, and all heard the chanting of the Diamond Sutra descending directly from the heavens.

On this day, thousands of Taoist believers converted to devout Buddhism.