The Beginning of the Brotherhood of the Thieves

Chapter 73 The Beginning of the Sworn Brotherhood of the Thirty-Six Thieves

Thousands of miles away.

Li Yuan sat quietly by the window, listening to the sound emanating from that ray of sexual light.

He "saw" Wugensheng standing in front of the "Wuzhen Pian" (Awakening to Truth), muttering to himself.

He "saw" the expression on Wugensheng's face, from bewilderment to realization, from confusion to relief.

A very faint light appeared in those gentle eyes.

That is approval.

"Rootless..."

"7

He whispered.

"You really are very smart."

"Smart enough to understand that he can't reach it right now."

"Being smarter means understanding that just because something is out of reach doesn't mean it shouldn't be there."

"Because you see it, you realize what you lack."

"Because you know, you know which direction to go."

The Tao Te Ching says: "To know what you do not know is the highest virtue; to not know what you know is a disease."

To know what one does not know is the highest form of wisdom.

Many people spend their lives seeking the Tao, yet they don't know what they lack; many people cultivate themselves for a lifetime, yet they don't know where the path leads.

Wugensheng's enlightenment at this moment is this "knowing or not knowing".

He knew he didn't understand, he knew he couldn't reach it.

But Wugensheng also knew that seeing it was an opportunity; coming here was a harvest.

Li Yuan closed his eyes slightly.

That ray of light still floated quietly in the cave, watching the young man standing before the "Wuzhen Pian" (a book on enlightenment).

He knew what Wugensheng was thinking at that moment.

Wugensheng was thinking at that moment that he was far from being good enough.

Wugensheng was thinking at that moment, since the gap was too big, he should take it one step at a time.

Take it one step at a time.

That day will come eventually.

The Tao Te Ching also says, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

There are no shortcuts or easy paths on the path of cultivation. Only by taking one step at a time, inch by inch, can one reach the final destination.

Li Yuan's lips curled up slightly, revealing a very faint smile.

In that smile, there was relief, expectation, and a hint of—

A deep blessing known only to him.

"Your trip was worthwhile."

"The seed has been planted."

"As for when it will sprout, when it will bloom, and when it will bear fruit, that's your business."

Outside the window, the sky was gradually darkening.

As dusk settled, the distant mountains appeared as dark as ink.

That last ray of sunlight is slowly fading from the horizon, giving way to the approaching night.

Deep in the Qinling Mountains, the young man standing before the walls covered with poems and inscriptions remained motionless for a long time.

But the light in those eyes was brighter than ever before.

That light was not external, but a light that came from the depths of the heart.

The light only appears after you have seen the road ahead.

The light only appears after you know the direction.

It is that ray of light that, though unreachable, has already been seen.

The scene changes.

Wugensheng stood before the stone wall inscribed with poems, gazing at it intently.

His gaze moved down line by line from the first poem, etching each word into his heart.

Those words danced before my eyes, as if they weren't carved on the stone wall, but rather imprinted directly into the depths of my soul.

Although Wugensheng did not understand what "Golden Elixir," "Kanli," "Golden Cauldron," and "Jade Pool" meant, nor did he understand what "when two things meet, their natures unite, and the five elements are fully present, tiger and dragon coil" meant.

These words were like a foreign language to him—

I recognize each character individually, but when they're put together, they seem completely incomprehensible and indistinct.

But the magnificent spirit of these verses struck him directly into his heart.

It was a feeling that was hard to describe.

It's like standing atop a high mountain, overlooking a vast sea of ​​clouds.

Beneath my feet are surging clouds, and before me stretches an endless sky.

At that moment, people were no longer ants, but beings standing shoulder to shoulder with heaven and earth.

It's like standing on the shore of the sea, gazing at the boundless waves.

The sound of the tide rising and falling, the vast expanse of the sea and sky merging into one, evokes an urge to ride the wind and return home.

There is a kind of spirit in these verses.

A spirit that encompasses all things in heaven and earth, yin and yang, and creation.

Its grandeur is so great that it can encompass mountains and rivers; its depth is so profound that it can explore the deepest hells.

A kind of magnanimity that overlooks all living beings and points out the way out of confusion.

It was a superior attitude, not arrogance, but compassion; not contempt, but mercy.

It is someone standing on high ground who looks back at those who are still struggling in the dark, feels pity, and so extends a hand to help them.

It possesses a grandeur that only someone truly standing at a high level can write.

That high place is not the place of fame and fortune, nor the place of absolute power, but the depths of the Tao.

It is the place you finally reach after a lifetime of climbing.

Looking back on the path we've traveled, all we see is a vast sea of ​​clouds; looking down upon all living beings, they are all in a dream.

Over the years, Wugensheng has traveled all over the country and met many extraordinary people and heard many profound and mysterious theories.

Some people talk about profound and mysterious things, speaking fluently and eloquently; others discuss the Tao and expound on scriptures, citing classical texts.

But no one had ever made him feel this sense of oppression from just a few lines of text.

That was not the oppression of words, nor the oppression of momentum, but the oppression of the Dao.

It's like standing on the edge of an abyss, looking down, the endless darkness inspires awe.

Like gazing at the night sky and seeing the boundless Milky Way, the vast universe makes one feel insignificant.

This is a true master.

They are the kind of people who dedicate their entire lives to one thing and ultimately reach the pinnacle of achievement.

He was the kind of great man who believed that "if I hear the Way in the morning, I can die content in the evening."

They are the kind of great people who integrate their lives into the Tao and ultimately unite with it.

Wugensheng suddenly felt a pang of emotion.

He thought of Li Yuan Daozi.

That Daozi was the same.

Standing before him, you don't need him to say anything to feel the unfathomable abyss within you.

That deep is not an empty deep, but a deep that contains endless wisdom, endless compassion and endless power.

Standing there, you know you are facing a mountain, a sea, and a world.

And at this moment, the same is true for the elder who inscribed the entire wall with poems and texts.

Although the person is long gone, their aura, their spirit, their charm remain.

Yet, through these words, spanning countless years, they struck straight into his heart.

That is the lingering echo of the Tao.

It is the trace left by that person after he attained enlightenment.

Like the relics left behind after the passing of a high monk, or the sword energy left behind after the ascension of a virtuous person.

That is the essence of life, the crystallization of spiritual cultivation, and a dialogue that transcends time and space.

Wugensheng took a deep breath, and solemnly clasped his hands in a bow to the wall covered with poems and inscriptions.

That bow was very deep.

His spine bent, his head bowed, and his hands were clasped in front of his chest, remaining there for a long time.

"Your noble character is deeply admired by us juniors."

The sound was not loud, but it echoed in the empty cave, one beat after another, like a bow.

He straightened up, his gaze falling once again on the dense text.

This time, he no longer just looked at the words themselves, but began to ponder—

Why are these things engraved here?

The Book of Changes states: "That which is above form is called the Way; that which is below form is called the instrument."

Are these verses about the Way or about tools?

If it is the Dao, how can it have form?

If it is merely a vessel, how can it carry the Way?

Since it's engraved here, who is it intended for?

Leave it to future generations.

The answer came to Wugensheng's mind.

But since it's meant to be left to future generations, why not just write it down as a manual so people can practice it?

Why carve it in a cave deep in the mountains?

Why should we have layers of defenses against those patterns, those auras, and those trials on the outside?

Why should that monkey king and that group of golden monkeys guard this valley?

The Tao Te Ching says: "The superior man, when he hears of the Tao, diligently practices it; the average man, when he hears of the Tao, is half-convinced and half-doubtful; the inferior man, when he hears of the Tao, laughs loudly at it."

The Way should not be lightly transmitted, and the Law should not be indiscriminately taught.

To spread information to the wrong person is to lose the right person; to spread information at the wrong time is to lose the right opportunity.

Wugensheng suddenly understood.

"Although the owner of this place was very generous in directly carving his legacy onto the stone wall."

He murmured, a hint of realization in his voice.

"But since it is a tradition, and such an extraordinary one at that, it certainly won't be passed on to future generations so easily; there will inevitably be tests involved."

His gaze swept over the poems, from the first to the last, from "To learn immortality, one must learn from celestial immortals" to "Never have I met a true friend."

Those words danced before my eyes, as if saying:

Come, come and understand.

If you understand it, it's your destiny; if you don't, it's your fate.

"It seems that only by comprehending the true meaning within these poems that elucidate the Daoist alchemy can one be qualified to inherit the mantle of the master of this place!"

Upon uttering these words, Wugensheng himself was stunned.

Then, he shook his head with a wry smile.

That smile contained three parts helplessness, three parts self-mockery, three parts an indescribable complexity, and a hint of excitement that even he himself was unaware of.

"Li Yuan Dao Zi, you've really given me a real challenge!"

He looked up at the walls covered with poems and prose, his voice carrying a mix of helplessness, self-mockery, and an indescribable complexity.

"They actually think highly of me, asking someone like me who hasn't even properly cultivated Qi to comprehend the Taoist Golden Elixir Dao!"

He reached out and gently stroked the cold stone wall.

Those words, each stroke clear as yesterday.

When you touch it with your fingertips, it's cool and smooth, as if it still carries the warmth left by the person who carved the inscription.

That temperature is something that hundreds or thousands of years cannot take away.

What were the people who carved these words feeling at the time?

Is it anticipation?

I look forward to the day when someone can understand these words, comprehend these poems, and inherit this legacy.

Is it loneliness?

He felt lonely despite his vast knowledge, having no one to confide in; he felt lonely after years of enlightenment, finding no kindred spirit.

still-

"I wish to leave behind the secrets of life, but I have not found a single kindred spirit."

Wugensheng softly recited the poem, his voice echoing in the empty cave, gentle and hollow, like a sigh.

Was that senior sighing when he carved those words?

He sighed at the realization that he had gained in his life, yet he couldn't find anyone he could entrust his life to.

Sighing at these scriptures covering the walls, I wonder when I'll finally find that "soulmate"?

The Zhuangzi states: "To encounter a great sage once in ten thousand generations, and to understand his wisdom, is to meet him every day."

A once-in-a-millennium event, yet it is still considered a fleeting moment.

How lonely this waiting must be!

What kind of persistence is that?

Wugensheng withdrew his hand and stood there, motionless for a long time.

He suddenly understood why Li Yuan Dao Zi had sent him here.

It's not about making him understand anything right now.

It was so that he could see—

There is such a person in this world.

There is such a valley.

There is such a legacy that has been waiting for countless years.

The Tao Te Ching says: "What cannot be seen is called Yi; what cannot be heard is called hope; what cannot be grasped is called Wei."

The true Dao, the true lineage, is not something that can be taken and used immediately.

It needs to be "seen" —

Only after seeing it do you realize what you lack; only after seeing it do you know where the road leads.

This is what Wugensheng's "seeing" at this moment means.

He saw the gap between himself and the walls covered with poems and inscriptions.

He also saw that the gap could be bridged.

Just take it slow.

Take it one step at a time.

That day will come eventually.

Thousands of miles away.

Inside the upper room of the inn.

Li Yuan sat quietly by the window, and the images transmitted by that ray of sexual light were reflected one by one in the lake of his heart.

He saw Wugensheng solemnly bowing to the poems and inscriptions covering the wall.

That bow was deep, sincere, and came from the bottom of one's heart.

He saw Wugensheng muttering to himself and understood the meaning behind those poems.

That enlightenment wasn't taught by others, but rather something I realized myself.

It was by standing in front of that stone wall, looking at those words, that I gradually figured it out.

He saw Wugensheng shake his head with a bitter smile, lamenting that his own foundation was too weak.

That sentiment contained no resentment or self-pity, only a frank admission that yes, I am not good enough now.

He saw Wugensheng gently stroking the stone wall and reciting the line, "I have never met a single soulmate."

There was an indescribable resonance in that voice—

It was as if, across thousands of years, he had a connection with the predecessor who inscribed these poems.

Li Yuan's lips curled up slightly.

A very faint light appeared in those gentle eyes.

That's clear.

Yes, I'm satisfied.

"Rootless..."

""

He whispered.

The sound was extremely soft, as soft as the wind passing through the bamboo tips, leaving no trace.

"Do you know that I brought you here not so that you could understand anything right now?"

at the same time...

Human life is hard to come by in the cave, and Wugensheng was deep in thought.

He understood the meaning behind those poems.

He realized the gap between himself and his current situation.

But he didn't know what to do next.

One person can comprehend this?

That would take forever to comprehend.

The things described in those poems were like heavenly books to him; he couldn't even grasp the basics, let alone comprehend them.

Give up and leave?

So what is he doing here, traveling all this way?

Did Li Yuan Daozi guide him here just so he could take a look and leave?

Just as Wugensheng was frowning with worry—

Suddenly, a brilliant idea flashed into my mind!

The inspiration came without warning, like a lightning bolt splitting the night sky, illuminating all the fog for a moment!

"yes!"

He blurted it out, and his whole body jumped.

The sound boomed through the empty cave, creating an echo—"Yes, yes, yes, even if I can't do it myself, I can find others to help me comprehend it!"

Wugensheng paced back and forth, becoming more and more excited as he spoke, his voice growing faster and his steps more hurried: "If I can't understand it by myself, surely I can find someone else who can?"