Pure cultivation cannot disturb the heart of the Taoist
Life in Zixu Temple is so simple that it is almost stereotyped.
Morning bells and evening drums, sweeping the floor and burning incense. The little Taoist boy Qingsong's daily routine was as routine as clockwork, while Gongsun Sheng spent most of his time in the more secluded meditation room next to the main hall, the door tightly closed. It was unclear whether he was practicing advanced Taoist techniques or simply meditating on enlightenment.
I was completely ignored.
Aside from Qingsong bringing me simple meals (mainly vegetables, brown rice, and the occasional wild mushroom) on time every day and making sure I didn't leave the mountain without permission, Gongsun Sheng seemed to have completely forgotten my existence. He brought me back that day as if he had just picked up a homeless stray cat, given it a shelter from the wind and rain, and then stopped asking about me.
This is exactly what I wanted before, "keeping to myself", but when it really came, I felt an inexplicable anxiety.
I can't keep going like this. Passively waiting will only make time pass, while I remain a powerless "oddity," my fate completely in the hands of others. Just because Gongsun Sheng doesn't touch me now doesn't mean he won't in the future. Once he's finished with the birthday gift, once he's determined that I, this "variable," no longer poses a threat, or simply decides that keeping me around is a nuisance, what will become of me?
I had to do something, at least to make him get used to my presence and see my value, not just a "trouble" that needed to be looked after.
The first step of my “strategy” plan is to make my presence felt.
The opportunity came on the afternoon of the third day.
Qingsong was chopping wood in the yard with great effort. He was young and lacked strength. With one blow of the axe, the wood would only split open a little. He needed to repeat this several times before it could be split open. His efficiency was extremely low and he was sweating profusely from exhaustion.
I walked over, but didn't help directly (that didn't fit my current "weak woman" persona). Instead, I stood by and watched for a while, then casually said, "Qingsong, chopping wood like this is too strenuous. I have a method from my hometown that might save some effort."
Qingsong stopped, wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve, and looked at me curiously: "Miss Bu, what method?"
I picked up a thick piece of wood and pointed at the grain. "Look, follow the grain and find a natural crack. Attach the axe blade there. Don't use too much force, just use some flexibility..." I gestured, demonstrating a crude application of the lever principle. "Or, first, use a chisel to make a small opening here, then bring down the axe. It'll be much easier."
Qingsong tried it out doubtfully, finding the crack in the wood and bringing down the axe. The wood split with a clatter, much easier than before. His eyes lit up: "It really works! Miss Bu, you're amazing!"
I smiled and said, "Nothing, just some tricks." This is just the simplest physics knowledge, but in this era, for a little Taoist boy, it is already considered "clever thinking".
At this time, the door of the meditation room opened silently.
Gongsun Sheng stood at the door, his gaze calmly sweeping across the chopped wood on the ground and then falling on my face. I don't know how long he stood there.
My heart tightened slightly. Did he hear it?
"Master." I bowed hastily.
He did not comment on the method of chopping wood, but simply said to Qingsong: "Have you finished your homework?"
Qingsong stuck out his tongue and quickly put down the axe: "Disciple will go to morning class now!" After that, he ran away.
There were only him and I left in the yard.
The mountain breeze blew through the pine forest, bringing a rustling sound, making the surroundings even quieter.
"You know quite a bit." He finally spoke, and it was hard to tell whether his tone was praise or something else.
"They are just some crude folk methods, not worthy of being acclaimed in a formal setting. I'm sorry to have embarrassed you, Taoist priest." I answered cautiously, maintaining my humble demeanor.
He looked at me for a moment, his eyes seeming to see through my deliberate display of meekness. But in the end, he said nothing, turned around and went back to the quiet room, closing the door.
The first attempt seemed to... not make any splash.
But I wasn't discouraged. At least he noticed my "difference," even if it was just in something as small as chopping wood.
In the next few days, I continued to look for various "inadvertent" opportunities to show my value, or in other words, my "unusualness".
For example, when Qingsong was weeding the few herbal beds in the temple, he couldn't tell the difference between some weeds and seedlings. I would "happen" to recognize them and point out which ones should be left and which ones should be removed.
For example, the rice stored in the temple was infested with insects. I suggested wrapping some Sichuan peppercorns and mugwort in a cloth and placing it in the rice jar, saying it was a traditional remedy from my hometown. Qingsong tried it, and it worked well.
For example, I took the initiative to wash my own clothes and bedding, and even helped Qingsong wash his Taoist robe that had become faded from wear, scrubbing it clean with soap nuts and wood ash.
All of this I did was within the scope of "folk ingenuity" and "hard work", never crossing the line, and never involving any "future knowledge" or "otherworldly theories" that might arouse his vigilance.
I was like a most contented sojourner, trying hard to integrate into this quiet place, using tiny details of life to erode the strangeness of this place bit by bit, and also trying to subtly change Gongsun Sheng's single impression of me as "troublesome/oddity".
However, the effects appear to be minimal.
Gongsun Sheng remained secluded most of the time, and when he emerged, it was only to check on Qingsong's homework, or to stand alone on the cliff edge, gazing into the distance, his thoughts unsettled. He never commented on the little things I did, as if he hadn't noticed.
He was like a piece of eternal ice wrapped in clouds and mist. My weak warmth could not reach his core at all.
Until that night.
The moonlight was beautiful, its clear glow spreading across the mountains and forests. I sat on the stone steps outside my quiet room, holding my pipa. I didn't play any outlandish music, but simply plucking the strings gently, tuning them, and humming some untuned, graceful little songs that might exist in this era.
The night is very quiet, with only my humming and occasional string music, accompanied by the sound of pine waves and insects.
I don't know how long it was before I suddenly felt something strange.
I looked up and was surprised to find Gongsun Sheng standing at the door of his quiet room, staring at me quietly. The moonlight outlined his thin figure, his face hidden in the shadows, making it difficult to see clearly.
I was startled, my humming stopped abruptly, and my hand subconsciously pressed the strings.
"Master...Master?" I stood up, feeling a little nervous. Did I disturb his meditation?
He didn't speak immediately, but just stood there, the night wind blowing the corners of his robe, making a rustling sound.
After a while, just when I thought he was going to scold me, he suddenly opened his mouth and asked an unexpected question:
"In your dream that day, besides the bloodbath on the battlefield, did you see anything else?"
I was stunned.
He...actually asked about my "dream"?
This was the first time in so many days that he took the initiative to talk to me, and the topic directly touched on my biggest secret!
My heartbeat quickened. Had he discovered something? Was he testing me?
I forced myself to calm down, my mind racing. I couldn't deny the "dream"; it was my only cover. But I couldn't describe it too specifically, as too much would lead to mistakes.
"Master," I said, choosing my words carefully, my voice trembling slightly in the night breeze. "The dream was bizarre and fragmented... Besides the ancient battlefield, I seemed... I seemed to see some extremely tall buildings, lights as bright as daylight, and iron boxes running as fast as the wind... But it's all blurry and I've forgotten most of it since I woke up. I only remember the song very clearly."
I deliberately describe some modern urban scenes in a blurred and fragmented way, mixing truth and falsehood, in line with the characteristics of a "dream".
Gongsun Sheng listened silently. Under the moonlight, his eyes seemed to have a tiny ripple, as if a small stone had been thrown into a calm lake.
"Buildings...lights...iron box..." He repeated these words in a low voice, as if he was savoring them or calculating something.
After a long time, he raised his eyes and his gaze fell on me again. This time, there seemed to be a bit more profound exploration than before.
"The universe is so vast, nothing is impossible." He said it calmly, like a sigh of emotion, but also like a kind of... disguised recognition of me? "Perhaps, what you saw is not entirely false."
After saying this, he did not linger, turned back to the quiet room and closed the door again.
I stood alone in the moonlight, holding the pipa, my heart pounding.
What did he mean by that last sentence?
"Not entirely false"? Did he... believe it? Or, perhaps, with his profound Taoism, he sensed something and thought my "dream" might be a projection of some reality?
This is an extremely important signal!
This means that he may no longer just see me as an "outlier" who needs to be controlled, but has begun to develop an academic or monastic curiosity about my "specialness" itself!
Curiosity is the first step to breaking the ice.
I looked down at the pipa in my arms, its cool silk strings glowing softly in the moonlight.
Music is my bridge, and that "otherworldly" background that he cannot fully understand may be the only key for me to open the door to his heart.
Although the road ahead is still long, and his heart of Taoism is still like a lonely peak shrouded in clouds and mist, difficult to climb.
But at least, tonight, I seem to see a glimmer of light that the clouds and fog are clearing away.
After an initial period of stagnation, my "strategy" plan finally opened up a subtle gap through humming under the moon and a cautious conversation about "dreams".
Next, I need more patience, more "carelessness", and waiting for the right time so that this "dragon in the clouds" can truly hear the unique music I play for it.
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