The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 735 Zhang Jiao: Thunder God, help me! Thunder, come!!!

Shen Le escaped a calamity and was finally freed from a strange marriage contract. He then quickly left home with the Long-Bearded Taoist and his group.

What was left behind were the earnest admonitions of their parents:

"Dog boy...when you get to the big city, have the Taoist priest introduce you to a good wife...have many children, five sons and two daughters, to expand your family, and buy a few more plots of land to farm properly..."

Shen Le desperately wanted to cover his ears and head and scurry away like a rat. Even so, he couldn't find a way to refute it:

Chinese farmers have the life ingrained in them: farming, buying land, getting married, and having children. Wealth and glory are too far removed, and immortality is even further away. For most farmers, there are only simple desires:

The granaries are full, and the house is full of children...

But I am not! I am in a memory! Why should I, who have memories of watching pottery shards, be forced to marry and have children? I don't want that!

The long-bearded Taoist was quite satisfied with his attitude. He encouraged him as they walked:

"It's right not to marry here. There aren't many good women to marry in this small place. Once you come with us to the prefectural city and to the Great Teacher of Virtue, there will be plenty of noble ladies there."

"If you are single-mindedly devoted to the Dao and wish to achieve immortality, a great and virtuous teacher can guide you. Ascending alone is always easier than ascending from a house!"

Shen Le: "Hehe... Does the Great Teacher know any immortal magic? What kind of immortal magic does he know? Have you ever seen it?"

"Of course I've seen him!" Speaking of his sect leader's deeds, the long-bearded Taoist became animated, a flush rising on his tired face.
"The Great Teacher is a true immortal! With a wave of his hand, he can turn beans into soldiers, and with a tap of his nine-section staff, heavenly thunder will descend!"
"Well, words are no proof. You'll know once you see it for yourself!"

Shen Le smiled and nodded earnestly, pretending to believe, though her heart was filled with both anticipation and trepidation. Could he really possess magic?
Does magic really exist in this world?
It's not about soaking talisman paper in various medicinal juices to impersonate "talisman water with healing abilities," nor is it about stringing a kite string during a thunderstorm to impersonate attracting lightning; it's about the existence of real magic.
It's not impossible, considering he personally witnessed disciples of the immortal sects during the Northern and Southern Dynasties. The further back in time one goes, the stronger the primordial energy of heaven and earth, and the more likely one is to possess genuine magical arts.

But if Zhang Jiao really had magic powers, how did the Yellow Turban Army lose?

What force could possibly defeat the Yellow Turban Army?

Did he really want him to see Guan Yu cleave the sky with his sword and a green dragon fly out, or Zhuge Liang shake his feather fan and forcefully change the weather to borrow the east wind?
He really wanted to see it right away, but unfortunately, it wasn't possible.

The Way of Peace, or the Way of the Celestial Masters, or the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice, each had thirty-six disciples, and each had its own area of ​​missionary work.

The thirty-six regional commanders, leading their disciples in layers, spread their reach across the eight provinces of Qing, Xu, You, Ji, Jing, Yang, Yan, and Yu.

Shen Le followed the long-bearded Taoist priest, traveling everywhere, distributing rice, grain, and talismanic water, pacifying the people, and developing followers. They worked tirelessly for two whole months, yet still hadn't left Ji Province.
Where is the great and wise teacher?
Anyway, it's not here!

He quickly integrated into this small team. Initially, he helped build the stove, tend the fire to cook porridge, and distribute talismanic water. Soon, the long-bearded Taoist entrusted him with some core secrets:
Boil the medicinal liquid, soak the talisman paper in it, and then let the talisman paper dry.

A special medicinal broth is boiled, and words are written on talisman paper. When it dries, the words are not visible, but once it gets wet, bright red water droplets appear and run down the edges of the words.

They boil medicinal liquid, then mix in something like rice flour or agar to make something that looks like talisman paper but is actually all edible...

Then, they went from village to village, town to town or market to distribute talisman water and treat the people.

Oh, and you also have to memorize a huge amount of scriptures and the names of countless deities, recite them at the patient's bedside, and have the patient recount their wrongdoings and kowtow in repentance, supposedly to improve the treatment...

Even though Shen Le had read about this in historical records, he was still dumbfounded when he saw the live version.

No, we also have that kind of deathbed confession in Catholicism?

While enthusiastically creating healing "talismans," he also helped distribute medicine and talisman water, and secretly filmed some healing techniques while assisting the people and the sick.

Just a little bit, pretend you're patting the patient's back to make it easier for them to cough up phlegm.

Then, place your hand on the other person's back and gently transfer a little warmth to make them feel a little better.

I must say, the treatment effect is excellent. Although I dare not say it will be immediately effective, after one round of giving out talisman water, I can always cure three or five more people!

There were three or five from this village, and three or five from that town. Soon, their team became famous among the teams in this area.

Shen Le followed the long-bearded Taoist priest through three counties, and even though he tried his best to restrain himself, he still received a summons:
"The commander is summoning you! He says the Great Teacher is coming to meet outstanding disciples from all sides!"

Ah!

Will we finally get to see Zhang Jiao?

Two months ago, when he first joined the team, Shen Le would have jumped for joy. But now, he just gave a weak "oh" and lowered his head to continue pushing the millstone.

push!
Push it!

Grind the glutinous rice into glutinous rice flour, grind it into an extremely fine powder! Then add egg whites and donkey-hide gelatin, and mix into a thin batter!
Then, pour the batter onto thin paper coated with soybean oil, spreading it very thinly and evenly into a large sheet; then move it to a very low heat to dry it slowly, and peel it off.

Apply medicinal liquid to such talisman paper, let it dry, and repeat this process to form a water-soluble medicinal paper that can be secretly dropped into to achieve therapeutic effects.

Shen Le had also asked why they didn't just throw in the pills, to which the long-bearded Taoist replied with a wry smile:

"Sometimes it does get lost... But, sigh, if the pill hasn't dissolved yet when you're giving out the talisman water, and it comes out with the boiling water and someone eats it, that would be really embarrassing..."

Moreover, sometimes, they really don't have that kind of quick hands; after all, these are Taoist priests who bestow talismanic water, not all of them have three hands...

He finished grinding the whole bag of glutinous rice in one go, then straightened his back, stretched a bit, and looked at the senior brother who had come to inform him:
"Really? We'll really get to meet the Great Teacher this time?"

"That's amazing! Let's pack up and set off as soon as possible!" The long-bearded Taoist had already asked the messenger who brought the news, and he was very excited at this moment. He reached out to pull Shen Le: "With your talent, the Great Teacher of Virtue will definitely value you! Come on, come on, haven't you always wanted to meet the Great Teacher of Virtue?"

...Is it possible that I don't actually want to "pay my respects" to Zhang Jiao, but just want to "visit" him? Shen Le silently complained to himself as he began packing his luggage:
Anyway, he wasn't in a hurry. It was only the Gengshen year, and there were still four or five years until "the year is Jiazi, and the world will be very auspicious".

If he doesn't see her this time, he'll see her next time; he has many opportunities!

...Of course, there's no reason not to seize an opportunity when it comes knocking. Shen Le followed the long-bearded Taoist priest, winding his way along the official road.

They joined forces with key members of the Taiping Dao (Taiping Road) from several nearby counties and continued their journey into the heart of Jizhou. They stopped at villages and towns, provided water for the people, and reassured them.

He was initially excited, but the further south they went, the more depressed he became. At first, when they needed lodging, the villagers had to squeeze in to make room for them.

Gradually, in a village, there would be an empty house where all the dead had died, and people could stay there as long as they didn't mind the bad luck.
After traveling for a few more days, the villages along the way were found to be mostly empty!

"I'll go get some water." After stepping into another house where the owner had collapsed and all that remained were rotting flesh and bones, Shen Le reflexively backed out and quickly walked away.

He didn't know where to go, he just blindly rushed outwards, and as he walked, suddenly a flock of crows took flight ahead with a loud bang.
"Don't go any further." A hand rested on her shoulder. Shen Le turned around and saw the long-bearded Taoist priest appear out of nowhere, his face grave.

"Ahead, ahead is..."

"They are the starving corpses that died, the bones that no one collects, the abandoned babies thrown into ditches, and so on." Before he could finish speaking, Shen Le continued in one breath.

He felt a lump in his throat, his vision blurred, as if he had been transported back to the late Sui Dynasty, to the desolate, nearly deserted northern Hebei:
Bones exposed in the wilderness, a thousand miles without a rooster's crow—these are just two lines of text in history books, but in reality, they are so desolate and heavy…

"Alas, the harvest is bad, the government taxes are heavy, and powerful families are annexing land..." The long-bearded Taoist priest looked at the sparsely populated fields and sighed softly.
"When will the Great Teacher of Wisdom save the world and establish a peaceful and prosperous era..."

Shen Le nodded silently. It was clearly written in the book that at the end of the Eastern Han Dynasty, land annexation and social contradictions had become extremely acute, and coupled with frequent natural disasters, the common people had almost no way to survive.

Whether it's the Way of Peace, the White Lotus Sect, or the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, the reason why such organizations were able to grow so rapidly is invariably this—

The people are suffering so much!
The people can't survive!
But there was nothing they could do—besides giving out talisman water, offering medicine, and secretly casting a few healing spells, Shen Le couldn't do anything at all.

He could neither reverse the weather and make it rain from the sunny, hot, and cloudless sky, nor could he change the government to reduce taxes, open the granaries, and give the people a way to survive.

By this time, Emperor Ling of Han had already begun selling official positions, right? A local governor's post sold for 20 million coins; a county magistrate's post sold for anywhere from 4 million to 10 million coins.

How could an official who pays to take up a post not make a fortune and earn back the money?
With heavy hearts and heavy sorrow, after many twists and turns, they finally arrived at a large-scale stronghold of the Taiping Dao.

As you enter the mountain valley, everywhere you look, you see believers with yellow headscarves or wearing talismans, their faces filled with an almost fanatical devotion and expectation.

Shen Le sniffed, almost sneezing: the smell of incense! The smell of herbs! It's too strong, I'm about to choke! Do you have a mask? Do you have a sniffling filter...?

Unfortunately, there was nothing there. Shen Le could only silently communicate with heaven and earth, letting a gentle breeze surround him so he could breathe freely.

He followed the flow of people forward until he reached the mountaintop platform. He arrived at the foot of a temporary platform and was told to stop there, as the Great Teacher of Virtue was going to give a public speech!
Very good!
You'll see people on your very first day!
You can see Zhang Jiao demonstrating magic!
Will I be able to see "Thunder God helps me"?

Shen Le looked around with great interest. He saw a tall platform standing majestically, surrounded by fluttering flags, and two dragon-carved pillars standing opposite each other like ornamental columns.

The audience below was packed with Taiping Dao core members who had gathered from all directions, sitting on the ground and eagerly anticipating what was to come.

As the sun moved from its zenith to its waning westward, Shen Le finally met the legendary great teacher, Zhang Jiao.

Zhang Jiao was not the otherworldly, ethereal figure one might imagine. On the contrary, without his apricot-yellow Taoist robe and nine-section staff, he even resembled an old farmer.

His face was tanned a dark yellow, and his hands were rough, clearly the result of years of working in the countryside. He was about fifty years old, with a gaunt face, but his eyes were unusually bright and sharp, as if they could see right through people.

He ascended the platform step by step, gently tapped his staff, and began to speak in a loud voice:
"The Great Dao is fifty, the Heavenly Evolution is forty-nine, leaving only a sliver of hope!"
A plague swept across the land, a severe drought ravaged the land, locusts devoured the crops, and corpses littered the fields. This was due to an imbalance of Yin and Yang, with the pure Qi failing to descend and the turbid Yin Qi failing to ascend…

As Shen Le listened, half of him was talking about the profound and subtle Taoist scriptures, while the other half was about the unrest of the times and the suffering of the people.

In short, it hasn't reached the point of rebellion yet, but every word is directed at the government and the emperor;
When discussing worldly affairs, his words are simple yet moving; when discussing scriptures, he gives off a feeling of "I don't understand them, but they are very impressive."

So, it really takes people like this to gather hundreds of thousands of Yellow Turban soldiers and launch a world-shaking uprising, right?
Zhang Jiao spoke eloquently for over half an hour. Shen Le had to admit that throughout history, those who achieved great things all possessed a knack for public speaking:
At the very least, the believers below listened intently, sometimes with tears streaming down their faces, sometimes sobbing and cheering.

Shen Le didn't even need to unleash his mental power to feel a vast and restless force surrounding the high platform, undulating and gradually gathering together—

At the height of his eloquence, Zhang Jiao suddenly stepped forward, let out a loud shout, and flicked his wide sleeves forward. Several cold stars flew out from his sleeves, landed on the stage, rose from the ground, and transformed into eight burly men dressed entirely in yellow.

Below the platform, a loud bang erupted, followed by gasps of surprise. Shen Le also abruptly straightened his back, a chill running from his tailbone upwards to the top of his head in an instant:
Spell!

This is real magic!

Although he didn't know whether it was soldiers created by scattering beans or Yellow Turban warriors forged from talismans, he had definitely felt the fluctuations of magic just now!
If we could get closer, touch it, and feel it ourselves, that would be even better...

Just because he didn't get a chance to touch it doesn't mean others didn't. Several people jumped up from below the stage, exchanged greetings with the man in yellow, and then started punching and kicking each other, making a loud banging sound.

After fighting for nearly ten minutes, both sides stopped and bowed. Zhang Jiao then flicked his wide sleeves, and the eight burly men turned into cold stars, flying back into his sleeves and disappearing.

Shen Le sighed sincerely. The people who jumped up from below the stage bowed respectfully to Zhang Jiao and then retreated one by one.

Immediately afterwards, Shen Le saw Zhang Jiao raise his sword to the sky and shout:
"Thunder comes!"

(End of this chapter)