Seeing that Mei Qing still wore a defiant look, Zhang Shisan chuckled and said, “You fool, if you can’t figure it out, don’t bother thinking about it now. One day, you’ll understand.”
Mei Qing sighed and, after a moment’s thought, asked Zhang Shisan, “Master, I just don’t understand. We cultivate so hard, gaining all these abilities, yet in the end, we seem to ignore this and that. Where, then, lies the true duty of a cultivator?”
Zhang Shisan paused, then asked Mei Qing, “Let me ask you this—during the Spring and Autumn Period, when the feudal lords warred and blood drenched the fields, Laozi, as the earthly incarnation of the Supreme Elder Lord, did he ever intervene in the struggles between states or stop their conquests?”
Mei Qing shook his head. “Indeed, he did not.”
“Setting aside the principle of non-interference in Daoism for a moment, what about Confucius of the Confucian school? He devoted himself to saving the world, traveling from state to state, yet did he ever lead an army onto the battlefield to stop the violence?” Zhang Shisan continued.
Mei Qing was momentarily speechless, then finally replied, “Though Confucius spoke out passionately, he never actually stopped the swords and spears of war.”
“What about Buddhism, the most compassionate of all? Take Sakyamuni, for instance. In a time of chaos, he might have cut off his own flesh to feed an eagle or offered his body to a tiger. But did such acts ever truly extinguish wars, stop invasions, or bring peace to nations?” Zhang Shisan asked.
Mei Qing shook his head again.
“These three—Laozi, Confucius, and Sakyamuni—are the founders of Daoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism. In terms of cultivation, there have been few, if any, who surpassed them throughout history. So why didn’t they lift even a finger to stop the violence of their times? If the Supreme Elder Lord, the Sage Master Confucius, and the Buddha himself did not do it, how can you, a mere youth, think you can? Do you believe yourself wiser or more cultivated than the sages of the three great traditions?”
Mei Qing had no reply.
“The Dao De Jing of Laozi, the three thousand disciples of Confucius, and the ten thousand Buddhist sutras—though these sages never personally stopped swords and spears, they passed down their teachings, under whose shade we still stand today. The true duty of a cultivator lies here, not in direct intervention. If you can grasp this principle, your perspective will broaden, and you will no longer be bound by individual events or emotions,” Zhang Shisan said calmly.
Mei Qing let out a long sigh. Suddenly, he bowed deeply to Zhang Shisan and said, “Thank you, Master, for your guidance. I see now that my thinking was too shallow. I still have a long way to go in understanding the world and cultivating my spirit.”
Zhang Shisan chuckled, “You rascal! I’ve taught you countless spells and techniques, and not once have you thanked me. Now, after a few idle words, you come rushing to express gratitude.”
Mei Qing smiled and replied, “Then I won’t thank you anymore from now on.”
After scolding Mei Qing, Zhang Shisan glanced around the courtyard and motioned to the two disciples, preparing to leave. Just then, a loud shout suddenly rang out from the main house in the back courtyard: “Villain! How dare you! Leave your life behind!”
At that moment, a streak of azure light burst through the window like lightning, rushing straight toward their location.
Startled, Mei Qing and the others barely had time to react when Zhang Shisan shouted urgently, “Scatter!” With a swift motion, he activated a spell. In an instant, the three were whisked away from danger. The azure light narrowly missed them, its surging energy rippling outward and striking the edge of the scroll that concealed them, sending out waves of distortion.
“Damn!” Zhang Shisan realized their hiding place was about to be exposed. He raised both hands, forming seals, and shouted to Mei Qing and Hou Shen, “Split up!” As he spoke, he uttered a command. Mei Qing and Hou Shen suddenly felt weightless, and in the blink of an eye, they were outside the courtyard. They exchanged a glance and immediately went their separate ways.
Hou Shen vanished in an instant. Mei Qing, with a flick of his fingers, summoned a talisman of swift movement, and in a flash, he was gone. Yet faintly, he could hear the sound of an explosion from within the Changchun Palace, knowing it was Zhang Shisan unleashing his magic to hold off the pursuers.
Using the talisman, Mei Qing quickly traveled several miles away. Without realizing it, he had reached the southern edge of Xiaochangchun. This area was a desolate hill covered with twisted trees and ancient pines, surrounded by wild graves and tombs. The evening was drawing near, and the autumn wind blew cold, accompanied by the mournful cries of distant birds, creating a bleak and lonely atmosphere.
Mei Qing caught his breath, scanned the surroundings, and felt relieved that no one was following him. Hou Shen, experienced in the martial world and skilled at hiding, would surely be fine. However, the commotion at the Changchun Palace might have alerted the Wenchang Sect. It might not be safe to return to the town of Changchun Dian just yet. Thinking this through, Mei Qing decided not to rush and instead perched lightly on the shoulder of a stone statue to rest.
The place seemed to be the tomb of some high-ranking official, with large stone figures and horses, though it had long been abandoned, its grounds in disrepair without descendants to maintain or honor it. As Mei Qing was observing the surroundings, he suddenly heard a distant sound of something slicing through the air. Instinctively, he activated a concealment talisman he had prepared earlier before cautiously looking to see who had arrived.
A figure approached, dressed in a dull gray robe, his features obscured. Upon reaching the tomb, he glanced around, then shook something in his hand. In an instant, his appearance changed completely, revealing a sallow face—the very same street performer who had vanished at the harbor.
The man was short, dressed in simple cotton clothes, and held a small cauldron-like object in his hand. He examined it carefully, inside and out, his expression showing disappointment. Muttering to himself, he said, “Why is this so? Could there be something hidden here?”
His voice was hoarse and rasping, almost squeezed out, making those who heard it feel uneasy. Compared to the clear, loud voice he had used in the marketplace shouting “One, two, three, two, two, three!” this tone was far less pleasant.
After inspecting the cauldron repeatedly and finding no clues, the man shook his head, glanced around once more, and then rose to leave the tomb leisurely.
Mei Qing dared not stare directly, fearing the man might sense him. He only caught glimpses from the corner of his eye but noticed subtle fluctuations of true energy as the man moved his hand. When the man stood up again, the cauldron had vanished, indicating he must possess some kind of storage artifact. Mei Qing became even more cautious.
From Zhang Shisan’s teachings, Mei Qing knew that even ordinary magical artifacts were rare treasures. If this man carried such an item, he might have a significant background. Until his identity was clear, Mei Qing decided it was best not to provoke him.
The man seemed unwilling to reveal his abilities and did not use any magic. Instead, he simply walked away, calm and unhurried.
Mei Qing followed at a distance. Although Zhang Shisan had said this man was likely not the killer of Tian Niu, Mei Qing couldn’t shake the feeling that the man had followed them all the way to Yongping. His strange behavior only deepened Mei Qing’s suspicion, so he resolved to follow and discover the man’s true intentions.
The man slowly walked along a narrow path, circling around the hill for several miles before turning a corner and revealing a small village with rising smoke from cooking fires.
Without hesitation, the man strode into the village and approached a slightly larger courtyard at the entrance. A guard at the gate exchanged a few words with him, then the man walked in confidently.
Mei Qing didn’t rush. He waited until the man had entered and the guard had dozed off before quietly slipping in after him.
This was Mei Qing’s first attempt at sneaking into someone’s home while invisible. As he passed by the drowsy guard, he couldn’t resist a bit of mischief. He turned back and secretly dropped a large ant down the man’s collar.
Inside the gate was a screen wall. Passing it, Mei Qing saw a modest courtyard—five rooms across, three courtyards deep, neatly kept. As he moved forward, he suddenly heard the guard behind him cry out, “Ow!” followed by the sound of slapping, and he couldn’t help but smile inwardly.
Passing the front hall, he slipped through two corridors and several small gates before reaching the back courtyard. Just then, an old voice called out, “Has Master Qi returned yet? Go fetch him quickly—our young master is coughing again!”
At the sound, an elderly steward, his face lined with worry and his beard white, hurried forward. A servant in a green robe responded, “Master Qi arrived earlier. Xiaohong from the back courtyard met him and brought him here already.”
The steward nodded, then sighed, “I hope Master Qi can cure the young master soon. The mistress hasn’t had a proper rest in days. If this continues, it’ll be unbearable.”
The servant smiled, “The masters you bring in can’t be bad, can they? Wasn’t it you who said yesterday that the young master was already much better after Master Qi’s treatment? Though he doesn’t look impressive, he must truly have skill.”
The steward shook his head, then nodded again. “I was just desperate. When the young master fell ill and none of the other doctors could help, I happened to meet Master Qi. I brought him back without hesitation. Who would have thought he actually had the skill? It must be because the master and mistress have done so much good over the years.”
Upon hearing this exchange, Mei Qing’s suspicions deepened. The “Master Qi” they spoke of was undoubtedly the sallow-faced man. But he was originally a street performer—when had he become a healer? Something was definitely amiss.
Without further hesitation, Mei Qing quietly slipped past the steward and servant, who were still praising their master and mistress for their kindness, and made his way toward the back courtyard.
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