“Old Master Shi, how can you be sure he’s not a bad person? Hmph, these days, there are plenty of villains who seem virtuous on the outside but are rotten inside. Don’t let him fool you with just a few sweet words,” the old Taoist priest glared at Shi Mengzhu and exclaimed.
“You old cow-nosed fellow, your temper gets spicier as you age,” Shi Menglan wasn’t offended and shook his head, “My eyesight isn’t that bad. Young Mei’s gaze is clear and upright; he’s definitely not the kind of rogue you’re talking about.”
“Hmph, anyway, you two are ganging up on me. I can’t possibly argue against both of you,” the old Taoist muttered in frustration.
The old monk smiled slightly, made a gesture of clasped palms, and remained silent. Yet everyone clearly sensed him saying, “This humble monk hasn’t spoken a single word.”
“You’re the biggest cheater!” the Taoist priest jumped up, pointing at the monk, “Your Huayan Sect’s Sixfold Teaching—how’s that any different from talking? And you pretend to practice the vow of silence, but in fact, you talk more than this old Taoist!”
“Enough, enough. We three haven’t seen each other for quite some time. Why keep bickering like this? Cow-nosed fellow, I’ve got some newly brewed ‘Rouge Drunken’ wine. If you insist on talking before drinking, we’ll just have to leave you out.”
“Who said I wouldn’t drink? If I don’t finish every last drop of wine from your estate today, I’ll become a monk myself!” The Taoist priest rolled his eyes and grumbled.
A clear, faintly reddish liquid poured in a straight line from the wine jar into the porcelain bowl. Instantly, the room filled with the fragrance of wine. The Taoist priest closed his eyes, sniffed deeply, then raised the bowl to his lips for a delicate sip. After savoring it for a while, he exhaled deeply, “What a fine wine! Ah, it’s been two or three years since I last tasted anything this good.”
“It’s just your good fortune, old cow-nosed fellow,” Shi Menglan held a small cup, downed the wine in one gulp, and savored it as he said, “This Rouge Rice is quite rare. It’s almost a pity to use it for brewing. Last year, I had to ask several old friends to get just a few dou of it. Today, it’s all for you, old fellow.”
“Hehe,” the Taoist laughed, his eyes nearly disappearing behind his grin, “Whatever you say, I’ll pretend not to hear. What matters is what goes into my belly. By the way, where’s your marinated crabs and drunken shrimp? Don’t tell me the great Master Shi is trying to get away with just a few cups of thin wine?”
“Just a glutton,” Shi Mengzhu laughed and scolded, “And you only go for raw, live delicacies. Don’t you fear that Master Ku might get angry?”
“Now that’s strange! Whether he eats vegetarian or practices abstention from food altogether, that’s none of my business. If I want to eat a few shrimp and crabs, why should he interfere?” The Taoist argued with conviction.
“Alright, alright, you’re right. Knowing you glutton’s fondness, I’ve already asked someone to prepare some,” Shi Mengzhu smiled, “The drunken shrimp is easier to prepare, but the marinated crab is better after sitting overnight. You didn’t give me any notice, so I had to scramble to get some fresh ones.”
As he spoke, Shi Mengzhu turned back to Mei Qing, who had been sitting with a troubled expression. “I got too caught up in our banter and forgot to introduce you. Young Mei, this old Taoist here is a very close friend of mine. His surname is Zhang, and his Taoist name is Shisan. Don’t be fooled by his fierce appearance—he’s not a bad person. And this monk is Master Ku, who practices the vow of silence, which is why he never speaks.”
Mei Qing bowed respectfully to both of them. Zhang Shisan gave a curt nod, while Master Ku offered a slight smile.
Though it was just a smile, it stirred something deep within Mei Qing, as if something had exploded in his heart. He felt a flood of emotions—compassion, sighs, pain, and sorrow—all passing through his mind. Joy and sorrow, grief and happiness, each emotion clearly unfolding like a revolving lantern in his consciousness, leaving him momentarily entranced.
While practicing the Sixfold Teaching under Bi Zhen’s guidance, Mei Qing had experienced similar sensations before. However, Bi Zhen’s method had been like viewing flowers through fog—vague and indistinct. But today, the experience was vivid and tangible, as if he could reach out and touch it.
Mei Qing’s powerful spiritual awareness flowed like water around a cliff, swirling and lingering, fully grasping the meaning without clinging, then swiftly moving on to another scene, reveling in it, gradually losing himself in the experience.
“Ha!” A sudden shout rang out like a morning bell or evening drum in Mei Qing’s mind, pulling his wandering consciousness back from the depths of his thoughts. He regained his composure and looked up to see the three still seated together, though now, at some unknown moment, two large bowls had appeared—one heaped with crabs, and the other brimming with fragrant wine, in which several large shrimp floated.
“Master Ku has been kind to me, and I am deeply grateful,” Mei Qing stood respectfully and bowed deeply to Master Ku.
Master Ku smiled slightly but remained silent. Zhang Shisan, however, impatiently said, “What’s with all this fake politeness? If he wanted to guide you, it’s because he liked you. What’s there to be grateful for? But you kid sure do learn a bit of everything—how come you even studied Huayan Sect’s Sixfold Teaching? Come clean—aren’t you from the Plum Blossom Sect?”
When Zhang Shisan asked the question, Mei Qing immediately dropped his respectful posture, glared, and retorted, “I didn’t say I was thanking you, so why are you lecturing me? And what’s this ‘Plum Blossom’ business? I belong to no sect or school—what, am I not allowed to?”
Zhang Shisan spat and said, “Nonsense! The Dao cannot be practiced without a teacher. No sect, no school? Then where did your cultivation come from? Did you just sleep one night and suddenly know it all?”
Mei Qing smiled and replied, “Well, not quite like that, but close enough. You call yourself ‘Iron Mouth’ Zhang, don’t you? Why don’t you calculate it?”
Zhang Shisan snorted, “What do you know, kid? My ‘Iron Mouth’ is about having strong teeth—can chew anything. What does that have to do with fortune-telling? Just because you won’t tell me your sect, does that mean I have to know? I don’t want to know anymore. Eat shrimp, eat shrimp!”
With that, he reached into the bowl and pulled out a shrimp. The poor creature, dazed by the alcohol, was still alive but too weak to jump. The old Taoist used his long fingernail to slit the shrimp’s head, then gently squeezed from the tail, popping the entire tender shrimp meat into his mouth. After savoring it for a moment, he took a sip of wine and laughed, “They say raw crab and live shrimp are all about freshness—this is exactly what it’s about!”
Shi Mengzhu said, “You cultivators always have so many rules. In the end, whether from this sect or that school, aren’t we all practitioners of the Dao? Just like us scholars—regardless of which school we come from, we’re all disciples of Confucius.”
The Taoist priest snorted, “Scholars are the sinners of Confucius, and monks are the sinners of Buddha. The ones who twist Confucius’s words and show the least respect for him are none other than you scholars. What’s most annoying is that you all parade Confucius as an excuse, using his name to cover your own agendas. If Confucius knew, he’d probably die of anger right there in his grave.”
Upon hearing Zhang Shisan’s words, Master Ku nodded slightly, then raised his cup and drank it all in one go. However, his cup contained only plain water, not fine wine.
“You could at least make a sound if you agree with me,” Zhang Shisan continued chattering, “Pretending to be so dignified—having a mouth but neither speaking nor eating. What kind of thing is that? Didn’t your Buddha eat beef back then? Yet he still attained enlightenment. The most hypocritical people in the world are you monks!”
“And are you Taoists any more genuine? I heard that the current emperor favors Taoism, treating a bunch of Taoist priests like immortals, giving them high official ranks of first and second class. I wonder what kind of Dao you’re cultivating and what kind of truth you’re refining,” Shi Menglan chuckled.
At Shi Mengzhu’s words, Zhang Shisan’s face turned from red to pale, then to green. He picked up his wine bowl and downed it in one gulp before grumbling angrily, “Why bring up those disgraceful Taoist traitors? They’re just trying to ride on the emperor’s fortune to erase their karma and avoid heavenly tribulations, hoping to ascend through trickery. They don’t realize that Heaven has its own way—how could such petty tricks ever work? Ever since Zhang Liusun of the previous dynasty allied with the imperial court, the entire Taoist world has been thrown into chaos. All sorts of evil sects have emerged, stirring up trouble. Even in this small village, there are now cases of demonic affairs. Hmph, how regrettable, how regrettable!”
Upon hearing this, Shi Mengzhu also felt a pang in his heart. He raised his wine cup and drank it, then sighed deeply, “Old Cow-nosed Fellow, I don’t understand your cultivation matters. But this matter involving Sweetie seems strange. Perhaps you can shed some light on it?”
Zhang Shisan’s face darkened. He slowly sucked on a crab claw and said, “That girl was drained of her pure yin essence through a sexual cultivation technique. That day in the tavern, I noticed that her yin energy was unusually strong, so I paid attention. That kid was there too, eyeing her greedily, practically drooling…”
“Hey, old Taoist, you’re making this up with your eyes wide open!” Mei Qing protested, “I wasn’t anything like what you described. We were all there, and you can ask anyone—you were the one causing trouble.”
“Hmph, what else could a dual-cultivation practitioner be doing, staring at a girl like that?” Zhang Shisan rolled his eyes, “At the time, I was also suspicious and wanted to follow and see what would happen. But before I could, this baldy here insisted on challenging me to a duel. We fought so fiercely that I lost track of time. By the time I got there, it was too late. The girl had clearly been stripped of her pure yin essence. What’s strange is that usually, when evil cultivators do this, they use certain techniques and don’t kill the victim. The person involved usually thinks it’s just a normal intimate encounter and doesn’t even realize what happened afterward. I don’t know why this girl actually sensed it, and that’s what ended up costing her life.”
With a cold tone, Zhang Shisan continued, “I haven’t even asked you yet—since you weren’t involved, why were you showing off with a paper crane in broad daylight? What were you trying to do?”
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