Lights of a Thousand Homes

Upon hearing this, Zhao Fengnian knew that the advisor must already know that Tao Wangsan was living in the Jiang residence. This was a test of the Sanyi Temple's attitude towards Tao Wangsan. So he laughed it off and said that he was just a servant with shallow cultivation and did not understand these profound things. His elder brother did understand, but his elder brother usually did not like to talk, so he did not dare to ask more questions.

As he was leaving, Zhao Fengnian secretly slipped a faint, dark red thread onto the fabric of Tao's sleeve during the brief moment of their farewell bow and sleeve exchange. The extended ability of the Gluttony Mark wasn't about devouring, but simply about sensing.

This silk thread would act like an eavesdropping ear, relaying fragments of Master Tao's conversations with others in the yamen. He did it extremely well; the thread was only one-tenth the thickness of a human hair, attached to the seam inside the cuff. Unless someone used a magnifying glass to examine Master Tao's clothes inch by inch, it would be impossible to find.

After leaving the county government office, Zhao Fengnian made another trip to the City God Temple. The temple was even more popular than a few days ago. After the tree demon died, most of the yin energy around the temple had dissipated, and there were many more people coming to offer incense than usual.

He approached the temple keeper and said that the Sanyi Temple wanted to place several ever-burning lamps in the temple and wanted to buy some old lamps that had been used in people's homes for many years, not the newly made copper lamps from the temple, but old lamps that had been used by ordinary people for many years and were imbued with the warmth of everyday life. The temple keeper thought the Taoist priest's hobby was really strange, but still helped him contact several households willing to sell their old lamps, and they managed to collect five.

One was a rough ceramic lamp on the kitchen stove, weathered by decades of cooking fumes, its glaze blackened and gleaming with soot; another was a small brass lamp by the old lady's bedside, its handle worn smooth and polished; a tall bamboo lamp used for lighting by the loom, its shade still adorned with strands of colorful silk thread; a double-headed tin lamp used by the private tutor, its base holding two lamps, one on each side, capable of lighting two wicks simultaneously; and a windproof glass lamp on the pharmacy counter, its glass shade bearing a few fine cracks, yet polished to a spotless shine. Zhao Fengnian wrapped the five old lamps in cloth and carried them on his back, humming a little tune as he returned to Sanyi Temple.

Liu Jin took the old lamps and carefully examined them one by one on the stone table in the courtyard. His fingers traced the tobacco ash on the lamp bowls, feeling the lingering echoes of unwavering dedication within them. He said to Zhao Fengnian, "You've worked hard; you've become a model worker too."

Upon hearing the words "model worker," Zhao Fengnian burst into laughter: "It's so incongruous to hear you say that, brother! But a model worker is a model worker. I searched all over Jinhua to find these five lamps. The lamp from that private tutor was the rarest. I said I wanted to buy his old lamp, and he thought he was hearing things, so he checked three times." After laughing, he added, "On the way, I also bought some snacks from a few stalls: Jinhua ham pastries, osmanthus-flavored glutinous rice lotus root, and a famous old-brand braised duck. I've put them all in the kitchen. You don't need to eat anything, brother, just smelling the aroma is good enough."

......

"That chubby kid is really good at running. He went into the city early in the morning and ran all over the place, from the government offices to the City God Temple and the homes of ordinary people."

"A true model worker! Zhao Fengnian is a real model worker! His experience as a food delivery driver wasn't for nothing; his execution is top-notch."

"I laughed so hard when Liu Jin praised him as a model worker. It's so funny to hear that word come out of Liu Jin's mouth."

"But those five old lamps are really interesting. Old objects that have been touched by the everyday life of people, others treat them as junk, but Liu Jin treats them as treasures."

"The most valuable items are the double-headed tin lamp of the private tutor and the patina-covered copper lamp of the old lady. One embodies the obsession of a scholar, and the other embodies the concerns of an old woman. It is this kind of fire, lit by the everyday life of ordinary people, that truly deserves the name 'lights of ten thousand homes'."

......

Liu Jin arranged the five old lamps in a pentagonal pattern on the stone slab in the courtyard: the rough pottery stove lamp in the fire position, the copper bedside lamp in the metal position, the tall bamboo lamp in the wood position, the double-headed tin lamp in the water position, and the windproof glass lamp in the earth position. The five elements are mutually generating, and the lamps are interconnected.

He sat cross-legged in the center of the five-pointed star, and the reverse three layers slowly unfolded. His translucent Qi-transformed body shone with a faint golden luster under the moonlight. The Taiyin gauze robe automatically retracted, and the aura of the Samadhi True Fire was no longer concealed. To subdue the lights of the human world, it is necessary to draw upon the source of fire.

With a flick of his fingertips, five tiny blue flames landed precisely on the wicks of five old lamps. The lamps ignited simultaneously, five flames of different colors dancing gently on the wicks: the earthenware stove lamp's flame was a deep orange-red, the copper bedside lamp's flame a warm amber, the tall bamboo lamp's flame a very pale green, the double-headed tin lamp's flame a cool white, and the glass lamp's flame a pure, warm yellow. Five flames, five colors of everyday life, intertwined and shone in the night.

Liu Jin closed his eyes, and the blue flame mark between his eyebrows slowly lit up. He began to breathe rhythmically. With each inhale, the five lamps tilted towards him, and five wisps of extremely fine smoke peeled off the wicks, like five different colored threads, drifting into the flame mark between his eyebrows with his breath.

These wisps of smoke are not ordinary lamp smoke; they are the lingering echoes of decades of accumulated obsession from ordinary families using lamps. The smoke from the stove is the yearning for sustenance born from the daily cooking fumes; the patina on the bedside lamp is the worry left by the old lady as she sewed shoe soles under its light each night; the silk threads on the weaving lamp are the diligence of the weaver working day and night; the fingerprints on the private school lamp are the expectations of the teacher as he corrected essays under the lamp; the medicine stains on the pharmacy lamp are the prayers of countless patients waiting under its light to get their medicine. Each obsession is extremely light and faint, lacking the vibrant life of the elixir of immortality, the icy clarity of the yin fire, or the domineering intensity of the samadhi fire, yet possessing something that no other flame has: the essence of humanity.

These lingering echoes of obsession were absorbed into the inner realm, slowly gathering above the dantian, hovering parallel to the Lingzhi Demon Fire, the Taiyin Fire, and the Samadhi True Fire. The five colors of smoke intertwined as they swirled, gradually merging into a pale golden halo the size of a walnut. At the center of the halo, countless extremely tiny bright spots could be faintly seen flickering, each representing a lamp that had once been lit in this city.

Liu Jin opened his eyes and gently touched the center of the halo. The pale golden halo suddenly contracted, shrinking from the size of a walnut to the size of a soybean, finally condensing into a tiny, pale golden flame at his fingertip. This flame was extremely weak, lacking the destructive aura of the Samadhi True Fire and the chilling clarity of the Taiyin Fire; it simply burned quietly, emitting a faint warmth, like the dim yellow light reflected on the window paper when returning home on a winter night. A myriad of lights, the essence of human life.

The spark was ready, but it was merely a catalyst. He raised his head, gazing towards the direction of Jinhua City. He donned his Yin-Yang Gauze Robe once more, completely sealing the aura of the Samadhi True Fire, leaving only the faint golden light of countless lights flickering gently at his fingertips. With a swift movement, he transformed into a streak of extremely faint golden light, silently hurtling towards the skies above Jinhua City.