Clarifying the Mind and Practicing Treasures

On the contrary, the little deer was the last to wake up.

It lay on the bluestone ground, its body enveloped in a very faint silvery-white halo. Its fur shone softly under the moonlight. Its hooves twitched slightly, and a very faint whimper came from its throat. It was not a whimper of pain, but a whimper of effort, as if there were some words swirling in its throat, and it was just a little bit of strength away from being able to push them out.

After Liu Jin waved away the vortex of moonlight, it sat alone in the courtyard for a while longer before finally opening its eyes. Its dark eyes were much brighter than they had been at dusk.

It raised its head and first looked at Old Chen, then at the crows on the well, and finally at Liu Jin on the stone steps. It opened its mouth slightly and only let out a very soft "woof". Then, somewhat annoyed, it gently tapped the ground with its front hooves.

The crow stood on the stone table, tilted its head to look at the deer still scratching its hooves in place, and flapped its wings twice. As a fellow demon, it knew all too well how difficult it was for ordinary little demons to cultivate alone in the mountains and fields. Gathering the essence of the sun and moon depended entirely on luck. Without the guidance of a master or the opportunity to spar with fellow cultivators, decades of solitary exploration were not as valuable as a single moment of guidance from a master. It had experienced this disparity itself.

Xiaolu made great strides in the moonlight this time. If she wants to make such progress again next time, she needs to hone her skills more deeply, thoroughly digest what she has learned tonight, and transform it into her own foundation.

The Fire-Gathering Scripture started steadily, precisely to lay the foundation for the disciples. In this sense, Xiao Lu was simply growing normally according to the orthodox lineage.

Liu Jin stood on the stone steps as the moonlight gradually returned to its normal brightness, evenly scattering between the mountains and the courtyard.

He looked at the six disciples in the courtyard who were absorbing the moon's essence for the first time, and a slight smile appeared on his lips. From this moment on, the lineage of the Sanyi Temple had truly taken root.

After the moonlight faded, the six disciples in the courtyard returned to their rooms to digest what they had gained that night. Only Mingxin remained sitting on the futon in the main hall. The Illusion Moon Mirror on his lap had been trembling slightly since he entered meditation. The moonlight on the mirror's surface and the moonlight pouring down in the courtyard breathed in sync, one bright and one dark, one expanding and one contracting, as if something was brewing within the mirror.

Instead of following the others to gather moonlight in the courtyard, he sat alone in the main hall all night. The Illusion Moon Mirror rotated on its own on his lap, absorbing strands of moonlight flowing in the courtyard into the mirror and reflecting them back into his body, forming an independent cycle.

He wasn't collecting the moonlight itself, but rather the fleeting opportunity for "realization" that arose when the moonlight interacted with the Illusion Moon Mirror.

The sect leader once said as he unfurled the scroll that the highest level of Laoshan illusion magic is not to deceive people into thinking it is real, but to give illusions real attributes.

Mingxin had been trapped in the illusion for too many years, and his understanding of this sentence was deeper than that of any other disciple of Laoshan. He was once a prisoner of the illusion, and he was also the master of the illusion. In that illusory world, he endured pain that was more real than reality, and he also touched a comfort that was warmer than reality in the repeated cycles of beautiful dreams.

The illusion had trapped him for many years, but when he stepped out of it, he also took with him the most important thing in the illusion: his personal understanding of the transformation between reality and illusion.

As dawn approached, he finally moved. The Illusion Moon Mirror floated up from his knees and hung in front of him. The reflection in the mirror was no longer the same old, recurring illusion. The running boy had stopped, the three people who had been sitting around discussing the Dao had dispersed, and the flowers under the moon had withered and bloomed countless times.

The old story has ended, and a new scene is being created. He gently touched the mirror with his fingertip, and all the images converged at the same time, transforming into a thin wisp of moon-white light that entered his brow.

He formed hand seals, and the sense of balance within his body that had just been awakened by the sound of the Yin transformed into the framework of an illusion.

He entered the Dao through illusion, using the mirror as a medium, weaving together all the obsessions he had been trapped in the illusion for so many years, the first hot meal he felt in the real world after waking up, the first ray of moonlight, and the first "enlightenment." A round fan slowly took shape in his hand.

The fan surface is slightly larger than a regular round fan. The fan ribs were carved from an old bamboo cane he brought from Laoshan Mountain, and the bamboo joints still retain the patina he had repeatedly rubbed in the stone house.

One side of the fan is a full moon, but the edge of the moon is constantly changing. Sometimes it is a full moon like a mirror, sometimes a crescent moon like a hook, and sometimes the moon is half bright and half dark because of the clouds. The waxing and waning of the moon cycle endlessly within this small space.

On the other side is his fantasy world, where mountains and rivers flow slowly across the fan, grasslands and deserts appear alternately as the angle of the fan changes, and the forests where the boy runs are still faintly visible in the depths of the picture. The three people sitting around discussing the Dao have become three blurry figures, but there is still a blank space at the edge of the picture, which is left for the future.

He gently fanned himself with his fan, and a faint fragrance of osmanthus drifted by. A few drops of dew appeared out of nowhere on the leaves of the wildflowers in the yard, glistening in the morning light.

He practiced until the illusion became reality. His illusion was no longer a cage that confined him, but a treasure for enlightenment that could fan out real cool breezes and condense real dew. He gave this fan a very simple name, "The Crescent Moon Fan." Just as the moon waxes and wanes, so too do people experience joy and sorrow. The waxing and waning of the moon is precisely because of its waning that there is room for change.

Zhao Fengnian peeked out of the kitchen and saw Mingxin standing in the courtyard, holding a new fan in her hand. The image on the fan was automatically changing between moon and shadow. His eyes widened in disbelief. He slung the rag he was using to wipe the stove over his shoulder, strode out, and circled around Mingxin.

He clicked his tongue in amazement and said, "Master Mingxin, your fan is so beautiful! One side is the moon, and the other side is a mirror. It can even emit the fragrance of osmanthus. From now on, I won't need to carry dry food when I go out. I can just fan myself up with the fragrance."

Mingxin smiled and shook her head, saying, "The Crescent Moon Fan is not a practical magic weapon. It cannot conjure real food out of thin air. It can only condense dew, fan a cool breeze, and at most make bitter medicine smell less bitter."

Zhao Fengnian leaned close to the fan and examined the mountains and flowing water on it carefully for a long time, then suddenly sighed. He took the rag off his shoulder, folded it, and placed it on the stone table, his tone unusually serious.

Mingxin has also broken through, not to mention his elder brother. With the three magic treasures of Taiyin Gauze Robe, Demon-Slaying Ribbon, and Illusion Moon Mirror on his body, he looks like a true cultivator from a major sect.

He was still diligently taking cold baths, consuming demon pills, and refining dragon scales, his progress as slow as a tortoise climbing a mountain. He slammed the rag on the stone table, looked up at the sky, and shouted, "I'm going out to find a water vein!"

Mingxin was so shocked by his sudden declaration of fighting spirit that she forgot to wave her fan and asked him why he suddenly wanted to find the water vein.

Zhao Fengnian said that his elder brother has fire, Mingxin has illusion, and he has dragons. The Sanyi Temple is currently lacking water. After making some progress in water manipulation, the effect of soaking in well water is getting weaker and weaker. Dragons are naturally fond of water. Without great rivers, how can they create clouds and rain? They must find a water vein to cultivate.

Mingxin closed the fan and gently tapped his palm, then smiled and nodded, saying that was just right, it was time for him to go.