Notes on Longevity

Chapter 208 A Visit to Ping An and Talks with Yan Huxian, the Owner of Lingma Shop
Inside the dimly lit thatched hut, someone came and took down the extremely thick, dusty "A Thousand Years of Heavenly Kingdom" from the bookshelf. The heavy book felt like a mountain had fallen on his heart, making it hard for him to breathe.

He wiped away the dust, revealing the yellowed blue cover and the coarse hemp thread that strung the pages together. The weight of history he felt was unimaginable; the little figures formed by the words seemed to be running around in the history books before his eyes.

Birth, aging, sickness, and death; natural disasters and man-made calamities; night and dawn exchange, day after day, year after year; the transformation of heaven and earth happens in an instant.

Wiping away the dust, he walked around the bookshelf to Ping An's side. With a gentle wave of his hand, the door behind him opened. Pedestrians hurried along the road, and the thin mist on the trees and branches cast sunlight onto the town. The chest in front of the Golden House vanished instantly, and clothes and books appeared around the two of them, tightly surrounding Ping An and Lai Guo.

"If you haven't experienced it firsthand, don't speak of it."

He came over, holding a book in one hand and gently turning it with the other. The clothes and books surrounding the two people all flowed into the sleeve of the hand holding the whisk.

I am deeply puzzled by Ping An's situation.

"What are you doing?"

Lai Guo handed the book in his hand to Ping An and said with a smile, "I have also traveled to famous mountains and rivers and seen all kinds of human customs. Later I understood a truth: life is bitter, that is natural and no one can change it, but you must never make yourself suffer."

Ping An took the heavy history book, frowned, and asked softly, "What is the explanation?"

With a slight smile, he patted Ping An on the shoulder and said gently, "Although you have destroyed your Dao heart, you should also know the nature of all things. As the saying goes, if your destiny is eight feet, don't ask for ten feet. Since you can't become an immortal, you should be content with your extraordinary abilities and longevity techniques."

"Whether you try to reshape your Dao heart or become an immortal again, in the end you will be nothing more than a sentence in history books, or a topic of conversation among ordinary people. None of this will concern you."

"Since that's the case, stop putting on airs and saying that sincerity brings results. Who are you trying to impress? The gods in heaven, or the immortal masters of Penglai?"

"So, you should stop pretending. Nobody really cares about what you're doing. Since you have such amazing skills and hidden talents, don't keep them to yourself. Use them when you need to."

Ping An didn't know how to respond to the previous words, but he knew that he wasn't pretending as he claimed. In his heart, sincerity was the true essence, not something he did intentionally, but something he felt was the natural way.

Since he was seeking immortality, he should have a divine heart and not be burdened by worldly affairs. He carried the chest on his back to cultivate his meridians and exercise his body.

Have you read any history books?

He came and saw Ping An carrying a book, frowning in deep thought, before asking a question.

Ping An shook his head and explained, "I have been practicing with my master since I was a child, and I have also traveled to famous mountains and rivers. The books I have read on the road are Taoist scriptures and the etiquette taught by my master. I know nothing about history."

"So that's how it is," said Dian Dian, her voice full of regret. "No wonder, I think that's why you couldn't become an immortal."

"The Taoist priest cultivates in seclusion, yet also wanders the world; he is well-versed in scriptures, yet remains stagnant. He only knows a few words from the scriptures, but is oblivious to the fleeting nature of worldly affairs. No wonder, no wonder!"

Hearing the sighs of those who had come before, Ping An was completely bewildered. He earnestly asked one of them, "Please enlighten me, sir."

"The Tao that can be spoken of is not the eternal Tao." This is the first sentence of the Tao Te Ching. You've read the classics for so many years, don't you understand it yet?

Those who have been here find it strange that someone like Ping An, who has experienced countless worldly affairs and cultivated the Tao, shouldn't be unable to understand such a simple principle.

But he still patiently said one sentence, which reminded Ping An of that handsome young man from the mountains and rivers—Zhao Yan: "The Way cannot be expressed in five thousand words."

Ping An silently repeated the sentence in his heart, but no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn't understand: "Is there anything different about this sentence?"

Upon hearing this, Lai Guo suddenly leaned closer, staring into Ping An's eyes and muttering to himself, "That shouldn't be the case. How could someone like you have such a fog in your eyes?"

"Although it hurt my Dao heart, it shouldn't have been like this."

This time, he was puzzled and asked, "Are you perhaps planning to return to simplicity?"

He suddenly said this.

Faced with the sudden change in attitude, Ping An felt slightly uncomfortable. He frowned as he held the book and asked, "How did you know that my Dao heart was damaged?"

"Your three souls and seven spirits are all missing, and even if you attain immortality, it cannot make up for it."

The words, though roundabout, eventually returned to this place. Ping An didn't understand why the person who had come here would say such things about him, but since She Li said this was a place where extraordinary people from all over the world gathered, and the person who had come here before had also said that he had the ability to know the past of all things, perhaps he must have seen something in him, but he was wrong.

Ping An didn't say anything more, but continued along with him: "Is there any way to repair it?"

He came but shook his head, saying, "I'm just a bookseller; I can't treat patients or cure diseases."

Ping An asked him, trying to get an explanation: "Then why did you summon me here?"

He shook his head and turned away, his hand tracing the dusty pages of the book, the dust clinging to his fingers. "I looked at you and found something strange about you, so I called you. Your mind is like a clear mirror, able to discern the world's affairs, yet you can only watch them unfold, unable to stop them. These things leave marks on your heart, as if they are your inner demons. I called you here out of pity for you. You should have been a celestial being, but you lost more than you gained through petty things. I hope this history book can help you. Everything in the mortal world should have been irrelevant to you, so don't worry about it too much. In the end, it'll just be a few strokes in the history book."

Ping An disagreed, saying, “But the Taoist’s solitary cultivation on the mountain is called transcending the world, while traveling in the human world and seeing the passage of time and the impermanence of life is also transcending the world. If you want to transcend the world, you must enter it. You say my heart is like a clear mirror, but if it is just a mirror and has never been covered with dust like many books, then what is the meaning of its existence?”

Lai Guoxiao said, "Time will naturally adorn it."

Ping An continued, "A gentleman should sit properly, stand upright, follow proper etiquette, and act in accordance with custom. This speaks of change, and it refers to people, not things. If the mind is merely an object, what use is it?"

"Although time may sculpt its beauty, it must also be a product of life, not a lifeless thing. Even if you have the will to stop it, you may be powerless to reverse the situation, but you can still do your best."

Upon hearing this, the man burst into laughter: "You've cultivated Taoism for decades, yet you're still pondering this here."

He stroked his beard, turned to look at Ping An, and asked, "Then what do you mean by 'doing your best'?"

"I"

Ping An was speechless. Faced with the questions that had come before, he felt his mind go completely blank.

"There are some things you can't do your best for, so don't provoke them. A gentleman wouldn't help, but a saint would. But you are neither a saint nor a gentleman. Even if you went to help out of good intentions, will you regret it if you lose your life because of it? Will you regret it deeply?"

"A virtuous person will not save him, a sage will not yield to his help, but ordinary people cherish their lives."

"Although you cultivate the Tao, you shouldn't be so arrogant. You feel guilty for not being able to save someone; but if you not only fail to save someone but also fall into the trap and are on the verge of death, it will be too late to regret it. Sometimes, observing from the sidelines is the best way to save your life."

"But wouldn't you feel guilty if you just stood by and watched someone die?" Ping An's words were righteous and indignant, but the intensity of his tone had diminished, and his voice was now unpleasant and grating.

He came and still smiled: "There are countless things in the world, you have to take them lightly. Life and death are determined by fate, you have to relax."

"I can not do it."

Ping An's persistence was met with a calm smile: "It's alright, it's alright. People's hearts are all different. What I'm saying is just advice for you. Whether you listen to it or not, and what you do, is entirely up to you. But I still hope that you won't let your heart be tainted by dust. Perhaps you can also try to cultivate the path of ruthlessness. In this way, you can more clearly feel what it means for all things to operate according to their own laws, and for life and death to be left to fate."

Ping An said, "But human life is at stake."

The man who had come before dismissed the matter: "I know, and I understand. But when it comes to natural disasters and man-made calamities on earth, do you see the gods in heaven ever getting involved? Aren't they also high above, watching coldly from the sidelines?"

Ping An hurriedly replied, "Dynasties rise and fall, life and death are natural occurrences; this is the law of the universe, and even immortals should not be subject to it."

Ping An's words suddenly stopped, and he swallowed back the words he was about to say, bewildered and lost. His trembling body and stammering words seemed to confirm that what Lai had said was right: "Should I really just stand by and watch?"

"This is just a suggestion, not a guideline on what you should do."

Lai Guo twirled his beard, then patted the history book in Ping An's hand, saying, "Let's go. That's all I can tell you and help you with."

Having said that, he waved his hand, and the thatched hut disappeared, or more accurately, Ping An vanished.

The noise of the surrounding crowd and the concern of She Li and Xiao Changgong made his eyes blurry with tears. He held the book in his hand, turned his head and looked blankly at the burly man selling weapons. He was holding a golden mace and was walking past the man who was lying on the old man's chair with a palm leaf fan covering his face.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

He turned around, and seeing his tearful eyes, She Li felt a pang of heartache and quickly asked, "What's wrong, Ping An? Why were you spacing out just now?"

Xiao Changgong, who was standing nearby, also asked, "Where did you get this book from? Where's the box?" Ping An rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tears. He put "A Thousand Years of Heavenly Kingdom History" into his sleeve and said, choking back tears, "It's nothing. Let's go buy a carriage; we still have a long way to go."

"Oh"

Watching Ping An walk slowly forward, She Li and Xiao Chang Gong were completely confused. They waved their hands, not knowing what had happened, and had no choice but to quickly follow Ping An's steps.

"You know, this person is quite strange. He should have been destined for immortality, but he only gained his skills and the art of immortality. What a pity."

After the three left, Lai Guo removed the palm-leaf fan from his face, stared regretfully at Ping An's retreating figure, and said to the man.

The man stared at the passerby with a dark expression, speechless, "He's just a child. There's no way he'd understand what you're saying to him."

"A child?" The man was shocked. He stared at the man, speechless, and asked, "You're saying he's a child?"

"Otherwise what?" The man was utterly speechless. "Are you having another episode?"

"No way." Lai Guo didn't believe it. He stood up, counting on his fingers, then suddenly frowned and muttered, "How could this be? But I sensed the aura of a seventy or eighty-year-old man from him. How could he be a child?"

Seeing the incredulous look on the man's face, the man slung the golden mace over his shoulder and said, "Let's not talk about the child for now, let's talk about you. You just said you were going to teach me a lesson?"

But he ignored him, instead tucked his palm-leaf fan into his waistband, rolled up his sleeves, and began calculating with both hands.

He swayed from side to side, pacing back and forth with unsteady steps, which made the man stare blankly. In particular, the man who had come over suddenly changed his expression and was full of fear. He quickly asked, "Old man, what's wrong?"

He came and ignored him, still calculating with his fingers. Finally, he stopped at the door of the thatched hut. His bewildered and nervous expression, and the way he kept swallowing, made the man very nervous. He stepped forward to help him see what was wrong, whether he had gone mad.

But as soon as the man approached, the man suddenly pulled out a palm-leaf fan from his waist and slapped it across the man's face. Then, he disappeared into the thatched hut in a flash, leaving behind only the words: "You reckless man, if you want to fight me, you'd better use your brain first!"

Amidst the uproarious laughter, the man stared incredulously at the tightly closed straw curtain door. Then, filled with rage, he swung his mace at the door.

However, when the golden mace struck the door, the door did not budge. The man, enraged, glared at the straw curtain door and roared, "You old bastard, if you dare to come out, then don't come out! If you dare to come out, I'll beat you to a pulp!"

The man's loud cursing startled many people in the town, who turned to look and listened intently, which immediately caused them to burst into laughter.

Some people said, "Don't bother with him, he's just a crazy old man."

Some people said, "How many times has this happened? You still haven't hit him. Do you want me to give you some advice?"

"Go away, go away," the man waved to the crowd with a helpless and embarrassed expression. Finally, amidst their laughter, he returned to the shop. "I was only doing this out of respect for him as an elder. If he were about my age, I would have already swung my mace at him."

"I think you're doing this because you need something from him."

Someone joked at the man with a worried look in the shop.

"Go away."

The man sat in his shop, watching the bustling town, his thoughts deep and unfathomable, much like the veil of mist above his head.
Ping An walked down the town's streets, frowning as he pondered his conversation with the people who had just come by. He thought to himself, "Should I really just stand by and watch?"

He remembered that Dao Yisheng had said something similar to him:
"The joys and sorrows of human life are none of your concern."

"The road to Penglai is long and winding; let not the joys and sorrows of human life weigh on your mind."

Ping An didn't know why everyone she met said this about her, even Zhao Yan said that her stubbornness would ruin her.

He's getting more and more confused.

She Li and Xiao Changgong, who were following behind Ping An, were also discussing what was wrong with Ping An.

"Do you think Xiao Ping'an encountered something just now?"

Xiao Changgong stared at Ping An's retreating figure, pondering deeply, but still couldn't reach a conclusion.

She Li did the same, turning his head to look at Xiao Changgong: "I remember there are quite a few extraordinary people in this town. Perhaps it was that extraordinary person who drew my junior brother's mind to something and said something to him."

"But doesn't Xiao Ping'an have a protective robe? Even ordinary extraordinary people can't do that."

Xiao Changgong's words made She Li feel a sense of crisis. He frowned and said, "Then stay close and make sure nothing else goes wrong. Otherwise, I'll be punished by the ancestor when I get back."

Xiao Changgong smiled upon hearing this, revealing a sly expression, and deliberately asked, "So, are you protecting Ping An and Benyi, or are you afraid of being punished?"

Upon hearing this, She Li immediately stopped in his tracks. He looked at Xiao Changgong in shock and said incredulously, "How could you say such a thing? Protecting my junior brother is my duty. What does this have to do with the Ancestor punishing me?"

Xiao Changgong was speechless: "Then why were you saying those things just now?"

"If I hadn't run into my junior brother, I naturally wouldn't have been punished. But now that I have, of course I have to protect him, otherwise how can I be a senior brother?"

"What if we hadn't met?"

She Li couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Xiao Changgong by the ear and said fiercely, "If you can't speak, then shut up. Nobody thinks you're mute. If you dare to talk nonsense again, I'll cut your tongue out."

"Tch!" She Li let go of his hand, and Xiao Changgong rubbed his red ears, ignoring She Li and following Ping An's steps, muttering to himself, "Really, you only know how to bully me when you get to the point. You understand this, how could I not? Poor vixen."

She Li frowned and followed behind. He was powerless to explain Xiao Changgong's words, and he didn't know how to explain them. He questioned himself in his heart: what would have happened to him if he hadn't met Ping An and Ping An had died? What would the ancestor do to him if he met Ping An and Ping An got into trouble?

He didn't know either.

"It's so annoying, it's all Xiao Changgong's fault. Why does he have to mess with my peace of mind?"

White clouds drifted lazily across the sky, and the thin mist shone even brighter under the sunlight. After an unknown amount of time, the three finally found a place with horses.

"Not for sale?!"

"why?"

Xiao Changgong stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the middle-aged man in front of her with the air of a daughter.

The man smiled apologetically and said, "My horses are all spirited creatures. I only give them away to those who are destined to receive them, and I never sell them cheaply. So you should go and take a look elsewhere."

"Don't I seem like the destined one?"

Xiao Changgong, with one foot on the fence surrounding the horses, pointed to his own nose and asked.

The man shook his head and laughed, "You're just a fox spirit, hardly a destined one. However, that Taoist priest looks kind, so perhaps we could give it a try."

The man spoke in a serious tone, and when he pointed at Ping An, She Li glanced at Ping An beside him. He was about to speak when he heard Xiao Chang Gong's voice burst out: "Who are you calling a fox spirit? I am a fox spirit! If you talk nonsense again, I'll beat you up."

The man remained calm and composed despite Xiao Changgong's unreasonable behavior, and continued to smile, "Yes, yes, yes, Lord Fox Immortal."

But what intrigued Xiao Changgong was how this person could tell he was a fox.
"you"

Just as Xiao Changgong was about to ask, She Li rolled her eyes and pulled him back, saying, "Can you be quiet? Didn't you hear the shopkeeper say that Ping An could try it?"

"Eh"

Xiao Changgong looked helplessly at She Li, then at Ping An, and pouted, "I was just anxious! Besides, how did you know I'm a fox?"

Xiao Changgong changed the subject, staring curiously at the shopkeeper.

“From all corners of the world, extraordinary people gather here. I have only learned a little about judging people. I observe that this young man is handsome, with an outstanding figure. He walks with light steps and speaks with a sharp and slender voice. He must be a fox spirit.”

(End of this chapter)