Chapter 780: When Feeling Melancholy Again

The white-robed monk approached with an imposing air. Xu Fengnian’s expression was a little awkward. He wasn’t scared, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. What father wouldn’t be furious with some scoundrel who dared to trick and cheat his daughter? Back then, Li Dongxi ran away from home, sneaking out of Liangchan Temple to travel the jianghu. She had nearly two hundred taels of silver, which was probably her father’s savings from years of lecturing at the temple. But after meeting the three of them, they feasted and drank, quickly running out of money. Perhaps the young heroine let something slip when she returned home, incurring the white-robed monk’s resentment? Feeling in the wrong, Xu Fengnian forced a smile, resolved not to fight back or retort. The monk strode quickly with long steps. Behind him was a woman, not particularly beautiful, and her makeup was applied a bit thickly. It seemed Li Dongxi’s habit of applying half a catty of rouge to her face at Wutong Court had a family precedent. The white-robed monk arrived briskly in front of Xu Fengnian, pointed at his nose, and demanded, “Where are my daughter Dongxi and my disciple Nanbei? I heard you, young man, thought they were two extra mouths to feed and sent them off to Western Shu and Nanzhao. Is this Qingliang Mountain’s way of hospitality? If I see my daughter has lost a few pounds, do you believe I’ll come to your doorstep and start a scene?”

The woman, who had just joined the monk, first smiled at Xu Fengnian, then tugged at Li Dangxin’s monastic robe, muttering softly, “What ‘I’ and ‘my’? You should refer to yourself as ‘this humble monk.’ How many times has Dongxi told you since she returned to the mountain? A person of high status must have the demeanor of one. Doesn’t Dongxi always talk about that swordsman who traveled with her in the jianghu, what was his name, Old Huang? She could discern his master status at a glance. Li Dangxin, look at yourself; is this appropriate?”

The white-robed monk was clearly still annoyed. He snorted, only slightly changing his words: “Do you believe this humble monk will go to Qingliang Mountain and throw a tantrum? It’s just that this humble monk didn’t bring that knife, sharpened countless times, today…”

The woman, who seemed much more worldly than her husband, coughed, interrupting the monk’s threats. She turned to Xu Fengnian and explained with a smile, “My Lord, don’t listen to this bald man’s nonsense. There’s no such thing as a knife. It’s just what our old abbot used to chop firewood. Dongxi’s father just misses that old bald head… oh, no, he misses his master, so he takes it out to sharpen it now and then, for fear it’ll rust. The old abbot didn’t leave much, just a firewood knife, a handwritten Diamond Sutra, and the large vat he used to wash his hands after a day’s labor. Alas, the knife and sutra are fine; they can be taken. But that vat is a bit heavy, so it has to stay at the temple. Otherwise, it could have been another item in our Dongxi’s dowry…”

The white-robed monk said helplessly, “There’s no sense in using a water vat as a daughter’s dowry.”

The woman rolled her eyes and said, “How many famous scholars and gentry in Jiangnan Road enjoy making teapots from the silt at the bottom of a vat? They’re very valuable!”

Xu Fengnian smiled in agreement, “Indeed. I once saw the old Minister Lu of the Ministry of Rites from the Lu family in Jiangnan use a famous teapot, which he had ingeniously obtained from the old abbot during a visit to Liangchan Temple years ago, made from more than ten catties of mud.”

The woman immediately beamed, finding the unpretentious young prince increasingly agreeable. “Exactly, exactly!”

Then she glared at the white-robed monk and said, “Speak properly; don’t spoil the peace!”

Li Dangxin rubbed his bald head. As the saying goes, ‘one thing curbs another,’ and his wife’s word was more effective than an imperial decree.

Han Gui finally managed to interject, bowing respectfully. “This humble Taoist, Han Gui of Qingyuan Temple on Xiaozhu Peak, has long admired the Wuchan Monk.”

Li Dangxin looked at the Wudang Taoist, who had been less renowned before the Buddhist-Taoist debate. A few more smiles appeared on his face than when he faced Xu Fengnian. He returned the greeting gracefully, “True Master Han is courteous. In the third debate on the final day at Lotus Peak, it will be you and I. I hope True Master Han will be merciful with his words then.”

Han Gui chuckled, “This humble Taoist is truly unworthy of the title ‘True Master.’ The Liangchan Monk can just call me ‘Taoist Han.’”

Li Dangxin burst out laughing. “‘Taoist’ refers to one who has attained the Way; ‘Daoist Master’ refers to one who has verified the Way; ‘True Master’ refers to one who seeks truth. This humble monk had better call you True Master Han. If Wang Chonglou were here, this humble monk might call him Daoist Master Wang. But if Hong Xixiang were standing before me, I would truly have to respectfully call him Taoist Hong.”

Han Gui smiled without speaking.

Li Dangxin glanced at Han Gui’s clear eyes, reining in his sharpness. He sighed softly, “Your Wudang truly differs from Longhu Mountain. If those 'yellow-purple nobles' heard these words, not to mention the elder Taoists of the ‘Xi’ generation, even those of the ‘Ning’ generation would be furious and lose their peace of mind right now.”

Han Gui calmly replied, “It’s not that Wudang Taoists maintain a purer state of mind longer than those of Longhu Mountain’s Heavenly Master Mansion. It’s simply that the two mountains follow different paths of cultivation, yet ultimately, all roads lead to the same destination. My master and Abbot Wang hold True Master Zhao Xituo of Longhu Mountain in extreme respect, having invited him numerous times to Wudang for discussions on the Dao. Whenever True Master Zhao passes through Beiliang, he never refuses due to differing sects. This humble Taoist personally listened to True Master Zhao speak on the unity of the three religions twice, gaining immense benefit.”

The white-robed monk asked with a smile, “If this humble monk remembers correctly, wasn’t it your Wudang Ancestor Lu who first advocated for the unity of the three religions? So, one might ask, whose ‘one’ is it?”

Han Gui blurted out without hesitation, “Ancestor Lu once said, ‘The Dao is the same, but the implements differ.’ This is the root of the unity of the three religions. In this humble Taoist’s shallow opinion, I do not know what ‘it’ is, but I know a little of what ‘it’ is not. This ‘one’ may not be in the hands of a high monk who, having delved deep into Chan, finds no Chan to practice. Nor is it necessarily on Wudang Mountain, where the Dao flourishes amidst the suppression of Buddhism. Similarly, it may not be in the mouths of those well-read scholars who frequent the mountains and excel at philosophical discussions.”

Li Dangxin rubbed his bald head again, his eyes showing clear admiration. He nodded and apologized, “This humble monk has been rude and tested you three times. True Master Han, please don’t take offense.”

Han Gui smiled, “No worries, no worries.”

The group continued their ascent together. The white-robed monk and Han Gui chatted casually about Wudang’s local customs and people, without any Buddhist profundity or Taoist mysteries, like old friends meeting in a foreign land, their conversation meandering wherever it pleased. The white-robed monk deliberately ignored Xu Fengnian, perhaps fearing he might again be tempted to grab his knife and attack someone? When a man encounters someone who steals his wife, he grabs a knife and attacks without a second thought. When it comes to someone who steals his daughter, whether to attack or not depends crucially on the character of that audacious young rascal, and even more so on the daughter’s mother’s attitude. At this moment, Li Dongxi’s mother, or rather, the little monk Nanbei’s stepmother, was exceptionally amiable towards Xu Fengnian. While not quite the doting gaze of a mother-in-law eyeing a prospective son-in-law, it was more like encountering a polite young junior on the road who had a certain interest in her daughter. She wasn’t overly enthusiastic, but she certainly didn’t treat him with coldness. The woman was incredibly open-hearted. At first, she maintained a bit of reserve, after all, the young man before her was the leading figure of the powerful northwestern fiefdom. But soon, she naturally fell into gossiping about household matters, complaining that spending money in Beiliang was truly excessive, especially since Dongxi had brought back so much rouge and powder from Beiliang, which was long gone. Now, when she checked the prices at the Youzhou shops, they were incredibly expensive.

At this point, the woman thanked Xu Fengnian profusely, saying that Dongxi, her daughter, hadn’t known any better back then, accepting so many expensive gifts all at once when leaving Qingliang Mountain Prince’s Estate. Then the woman chuckled to herself, openly admitting that she absolutely couldn’t repay the money now, and that she had left in such a hurry she hadn’t brought any return gifts, and their family savings had long been squandered by her. As Xu Fengnian listened to the woman’s uninhibited chatter, openly revealing her shortcomings, the smile never left his face. The little Taoist acolyte Qingxin, who was stealthily listening to both sides with perked ears, found it odd. It was already strange enough that his master, a Taoist, could get along with the renowned white-robed monk, known as the “Flesh-and-Blood Bodhisattva.” Could this dignified Prince of Beiliang also converse so easily with that woman?

The white-robed monk Li Dangxin was the most important figure in the Lotus Peak debate. As the current abbot of Liangchan Temple, he was the preeminent leader of Buddhism in the world, and Xu Fengnian was also Wudang’s most distinguished guest. Therefore, their group headed directly to Ziyang Palace, the main Wudang temple at the mountain peak, to settle down. Wudang originally didn’t have the custom of categorizing guests into different ranks, but they soon discovered that while they didn’t fuss, their visiting guests were quite particular. They learned from the guests that the nine palaces and thirty-six temples affiliated with Wudang Mountain Taoism had long been ranked by status in the jianghu. Staying in one of the nine palaces was the ultimate display of official and jianghu status, and even resting in one of the upper eight of the thirty-six temples was cause for self-satisfaction. With the increasing number of pilgrims, especially the arrival of renowned aristocratic scholars from Jiangnan and Huainan, many of the lower eight temples, located further from the main peak, became overcrowded, forcing them to close their doors to visitors.

Just as Xu Fengnian and the white-robed monk’s group entered through the back door of Ziyang Palace, a bright-eyed young Taoist acolyte rushed anxiously to Han Gui, whimpering softly, “Grand-uncle Master, Grand-uncle Master, a new batch of esteemed guests has arrived on the mountain. True Master Zhanglu personally accompanied them on a tour of our main peak. These guests aren’t like ordinary outsiders who make many demands; they didn’t insist on staying on the mountain, saying they’d booked rooms at an inn in the town at the foot of the mountain. But True Master Zhanglu personally ordered that these guests must not be treated lightly, and that we must conjure three or four elegant, quiet rooms for them. My master and several uncles are frantic! We barely found two rooms in Ziyang Palace. Any more is truly impossible! Shenxiao Temple and Taixu Temple, near the peak, are also in a bind, saying they’ve even cleared out their wood sheds for guests. So, we can’t possibly make half the guests stay on the mountain and half go down, can we?”

When Xu Fengnian practiced his blade on the mountain years ago, he had met most of the Taoists from the Qing and Ning generations, and he never forgot a face. He asked with a smile, “Young Taoist Ninghe, who are they? So much prestige?” The young Taoist acolyte had previously stood at the mountain gate with the Grand-uncle Master on the ox to greet Xu Fengnian, so he naturally knew Xu Fengnian’s identity. He quickly bowed and replied, “Reporting to Your Highness, Uncle Qingfeng said they are students of Mr. Han from Shangyin Academy.” Xu Fengnian suddenly understood. He had previously received intelligence from Qingcang City in Liuzhou, stating that Old Mr. Han continued his journey west to Lan Tuo Mountain, but upon hearing that Wudang Mountain was holding a Buddhist-Taoist debate, he sent several disciples back to Liangzhou to rendezvous with Chang Sui, the “Immortal of Wine” who had gone alone to Jibei, at Wudang Mountain. The elder only continued his distant travels with his granddaughter, Han Guoxiu, and a few escorts. At the time, Xu Fengnian had only dared to hope that one of Han Guzi’s disciples might remain in Beiliang. If it were Xu Huang, the great strategist, that would be ideal. If it were Sima Can, the unrestrained diplomat, that would also be good. Now, hearing this news, Xu Fengnian felt some regret. If only one or two people had come to Wudang Mountain, they would most likely have been destined to serve Beiliang. But with Chang Sui also present, it probably meant none of them would remain in Beiliang. Xu Fengnian sighed inwardly and chuckled, “Young Taoist Ninghe, please tell your master that I’ll give my room to these guests. I imagine that room can easily accommodate two or three people.”

The young Taoist acolyte dared not accept such an offer.

Han Gui said softly, “Ninghe, just do as His Highness commands. Also, give my room and Qingxin’s room to the guests…”

Before Han Gui could finish, the young Taoist acolyte exclaimed, “Grand-uncle Master, how can that be? Qingyuan Temple on Xiaozhu Peak and Lotus Peak are more than ten li apart! Qingxin… Uncle Qingxin gets so tired every time he comes to Lotus Peak to play with us… no, no, to help Grand-uncle Master borrow books!”

The young Taoist acolyte of the Ning generation spoke with a progressively lower voice. Qingxin, Han Gui’s disciple, wished he could dig a hole and crawl into it. “It’s over,” he thought, “I’ll have to copy the scriptures ten times when I get back to Qingyuan Temple this time.”

The white-robed monk turned to his wife and clicked his tongue, saying, “Look at the juniors on this mountain, how they favor their elders. Those bald little rascals who play with clumsy Nanbei are always thinking of swindling food and drink from our home.”

The woman chuckled, “You’re wrong, they’re clearly all after our daughter. Usually, the little monks I see on the temple grounds are so scruffy, but every time they come to our house, don’t they always put on freshly cleaned, neat monastic robes?”

The white-robed monk was furious, “This is happening?!”

The woman rolled her eyes, “You’re just finding out now?”

The white-robed monk said indignantly, “Those little bald heads need a good beating, and clumsy Nanbei is even dumber. Isn’t this inviting wolves into the house?!”

The woman retorted crossly, “Go ahead and beat them! It’d be good if they all had an epiphany, then you wouldn’t have to be an abbot who only gives out money and doesn’t take any in.”

Ultimately, Han Gui and the young Taoist acolyte went to stay with a disciple of the ‘Qing’ generation, True Master Chen You, who was in charge of regulations. Xu Fengnian, meanwhile, went to spend a night in the thatched hut by the Xixiang Pond on the mountainside, where he used to practice his blade. Before descending the mountain, Xu Fengnian first escorted the white-robed monk to his assigned room. Han Gui took his leave first; everyone on Wudang Mountain was overwhelmed with tasks. Besides seeing Xu Fengnian settled into Ziyang Palace, Han Gui had a multitude of other duties. In truth, Taoists of all generations on the mountain knew well that Han Gui was destined for great responsibility in the future. Even the old abbot Wang Chonglou had stated that Han Gui’s Dao heart was the most steadfast, and Hong Xixiang had even jokingly remarked, half-seriously, that Xiaozhu Peak, with its many osmanthus trees, was most suitable for Han Gui, whose name contained the character for osmanthus, to cultivate and attain enlightenment. And the two highest-ranking True Masters remaining on Wudang Mountain, Chen You and Yu Xingrui, greatly valued Han Gui, this unassuming junior.

After Xu Fengnian escorted him to the threshold, the white-robed monk pushed the door open, then suddenly turned and asked, “Have you met this humble monk’s Senior Martial Uncle?”

Xu Fengnian paused, then realized he was referring to the Chicken Soup Monk at the foot of Little Lan Tuo Mountain in the Western Regions. The old monk was indeed the Senior Martial Brother of the Saint Monk Nagarjuna. He nodded and said, “I could fight Tuoba Bodhisattva and survive…”

Li Dangxin waved his hand, “He’s dead now. Who would listen to pleasant words?”

Xu Fengnian fell silent, at a loss for words.

The white-robed monk sighed, speaking wistfully, “But coming back to the point, it’s thanks to your appearance that Senior Martial Uncle could find his inner lotus. When I traveled alone thousands of miles west, Senior Martial Uncle was worried. His original intention was to go to that place in the Western Regions to bring me back to Liangchan Temple. He never imagined that stop would last twenty years. This humble monk’s epiphany, in no small part, benefited from Senior Martial Uncle’s insights. All right, business is business. The matter with my daughter isn’t over yet. But for Senior Martial Uncle’s ability to ‘drop the lotus,’ I owe you a thank you.”

Li Dangxin lowered his head and pressed his palms together.

Xu Fengnian pressed his palms together, returning the subtle gesture.

After Xu Fengnian left, the white-robed monk closed the door. The woman sat in a chair, rubbing her calves, and chuckled, “We only have one daughter, you know. And as clumsy as Nanbei is, he’s family now. Oh, if only I had two daughters.”

Li Dangxin muttered softly, “Even if I had two daughters, I wouldn’t want to be that boy’s father-in-law! I’d chase him away with a broom every time I saw him!”

Uncharacteristically, the woman didn’t argue back. She said softly, “Earlier, chatting with that child all the way, I mentioned how Dongxi is too playful. As he chatted with me, he casually said something quite interesting. He essentially said that when he was a child, he was truly incorrigible, and in his youth, he always resented various restrictions from his elders. But when he finally grew up, he suddenly realized that when he made mistakes, no one scolded him, and instead, he missed his childhood.”

The white-robed monk leaned back in his chair, stroking his bald head.

For some reason, he also missed the days when his master would constantly nag him in his ear as a child.

Before Xu Fengnian left Ziyang Palace, a head of the Fushui Chamber’s intelligence agents and a captain whose jurisdiction was near Wudang Mountain appeared together. Both were dressed in casual clothes indistinguishable from ordinary pilgrims, seizing this rare opportunity to report to His Highness. This made Xu Fengnian look much like a noble young master traveling with servants and retainers. Today, Ziyang Palace hosted no commoners; most were outsiders with deep connections to Huagai Commandery and even the entire officialdom of Beiliang—all were either wealthy or noble, or “jianghu recluses” like Xu Huang and Sima Can, whose self-assurance was enough to look down on princes. It was said that even the eldest son of the Prefect of Hezhou and the daughter of the Prefect of Jizhou had ascended the mountain together, yet they were still unable to stay in Ziyang Palace, being relegated to Shenxiao Temple.

After listening to their concise and respectful reports, Xu Fengnian gave no particular orders. As they approached Xixiang Pond, he simply sent them off to attend to their own affairs. The conversation was brief, but both men still felt greatly honored. Whether it was the deep-scheming chief intelligence agent or the pragmatic captain known for his steady temperament, they exchanged smiles, their faces brimming with unconcealed joy. This genuine sense of honor was fundamentally different from the common officialdom mentality of merely getting on familiar terms with powerful figures. Revisiting the familiar place, Xu Fengnian discovered that the Xixiang Pond, once quiet and deserted, was now bustling and crowded, shoulder to shoulder. Upon asking, he learned that two people were apparently going to have a martial arts contest on the large rock in the pond, with a simple rule: whoever fell into the water from the rock lost. Xu Fengnian truly couldn’t push his way to the edge of the pond, so he had to stand about fifty paces away from Xixiang Pond. Among the crowd, many vendors with bamboo boxes on their chests weaved through, hawking and shouting, “How can you watch masters duel without having a big cup of our Beiliang green ant wine?” or “Buy two pots of wine and get a copy of the Prince of Beiliang’s Wudang Mountain Martial Arts Quotations!” On the large rock in the pond, two masters were engaged in a fierce battle. Xu Fengnian’s ears were filled with thunderous cheers. Looking around, he could only catch glimpses of the two figures when they leapt high into the air. One with a saber, one with a sword, their blades and swords flashed and intertwined, a dazzling display. This was probably what they called “floating like a startled swan.”

For some reason, Xu Fengnian became interested. He bought some sunflower seeds and red dates from a vendor and, like most spectators, stood on his tiptoes, craning his neck, listening to the startled exclamations and explanations of the fighting techniques from those around him. He felt a little self-deprecating. Look at how magnificent others’ fights were, with crowds like clouds and thunderous cheers, infinitely more impressive than his final clash with Tuoba Bodhisattva in that small alley. “That’s right,” he thought, “this seems to be the jianghu I dreamed of in my youth.” Xu Fengnian slowly cracked open sunflower seeds, listening contentedly to the friendly explanations from those around him, which didn’t cost him a single copper coin. According to the well-informed rumor-mongers around him, Xu Fengnian learned that the two young martial artists vigorously showcasing their skills were by no means unknown in the jianghu. The handsome jianghu figure wielding the famous sword “Five Silk Strands,” chosen among the new Top Ten in the world from Huishan’s Great Snowfield, was actually a close friend of a direct disciple of one of the Grandmasters. Was that relationship a bit distant? Could any ordinary Tom, Dick, or Harry claim kinship with a direct disciple of one of the new Top Ten masters in the world? As for the local Beiliang youth wielding the saber, he had an even more significant background. It was said that even the Prince of Beiliang, Xu Fengnian, cherished his talent and had personally instructed him in two or three saber forms.

Hearing this, Xu Fengnian couldn’t help but grimace even more than when he previously heard that Miss Dongxi had claimed to have seen through Old Huang’s master identity at a glance. Just as Xu Fengnian felt a little gloomy, the crowd was forcibly parted. Xu Fengnian turned to see two men walking side-by-side, both with solemn expressions. One carried a long sword, the other held his hands behind his back, looking as if they were about to participate in a climactic battle to contend for a spot among the Top Ten in the world. Xu Fengnian, along with those around him, had to make way for the two great masters. It turned out that after the battle between the two young heroes on the large rock concluded, it would be the turn of these two martial arts grandmasters, with more significant jianghu standing, to step onto the stage and compete. One was known in the jianghu as “Jiangnan Plum Rain Sword,” and the other had the jianghu nickname “Central Plains Divine Dragon.” Just listen, with such awe-inspiring nicknames, how could they not be great heroes?

As Xu Fengnian made way for the two great heroes, he thought to himself that he still didn’t have any impressive nickname to speak of. It was a bit unbecoming. Back then, when the four of them roamed the jianghu in impoverished circumstances, not to mention the heroine Li Dongxi who gave herself a whole string of nicknames, the other two certainly had them. Xu Fengnian sighed, cracking sunflower seeds. Not only was he feeling melancholy at the moment, but his very spirits seemed to have flagged.