Notes on Longevity

Chapter 211 Suddenly, the fragrance of tea wafts through the long night; a lovelorn soul, through countless twists and turns in the mortal world.

Yang Shouren gazed at the hazy moonlight in the sky, a hint of sorrow in his expression. He looked down at the two dumbfounded people in front of him and chuckled, "I used to think that monsters were all harmful to people, but now it seems that's not the case."

"But if I hadn't met you, perhaps I wouldn't have had this wonderful experience."

Xiao Changgong was confused. He looked troubled and asked, "Yang Shouren, what do you mean by that?"

She Li also found it strange and asked, "Young Master Yang, did you encounter or hear anything in that house?"

He continued to chuckle foolishly, reaching out as if to pluck the moon. "Two immortals, do you really believe that a lifeless porcelain vase could possess human emotions?"

She Li and Xiao Changgong exchanged bewildered glances, unsure how to respond. While they were pondering this, Ping An had vanished without a trace, and they hadn't even noticed his disappearance.

In the pitch-black alley, Ping An, dressed in a green Taoist robe and holding a whisk, staggered to the mud-brick house. He watched as the door opened, and moonlight quietly streamed into the courtyard. He frowned, curious about what Yang Shouren and the other two had said. What kind of people could have made them so disheveled and spoken in such a manner?

He stepped through the door, and the once full and spacious courtyard appeared somewhat desolate under the moonlight.

Beside him, in a swaying wooden chair at a square table, sat a young girl dressed in blue and white. She sat gracefully with her back to the door, her fair, slender neck slightly bent under her moon-gazing gaze, and her delicate, pitiful face tinged with sorrow.

Longing turned into tears in the corners of her eyes, each one hanging there.

When she heard Ping An's footsteps, she slowly turned around, her porcelain eyes, clear as the moon, reflecting his image. The faint glow of Ping An's Taoist robe seemed to remind her of something, and a hint of joy appeared between her sorrowful brows. She rose, bowed slightly in a curtsy, and softly said, "This humble woman, Su Qing, greets the Immortal Master."

Ping An was slightly taken aback, then explained, "This humble Taoist Ping An greets the young lady."

Su Qing was also slightly taken aback. She stared at Ping An's Taoist robe and said softly, "With a Taoist robe on your body and a universe within your sleeves, are you really not an immortal?"

"No. I am a disciple of Qing Xuanzi, and I entered the Daoist path through the Zouma Temple. I am only sixteen years old this year and am not the immortal you described."

Ping An continued to explain, but this only fueled his curiosity. Since entering Qumu Town, this was the second person to say such a thing about him. He couldn't understand why they always thought he was an enlightened being from the heavens and an immortal, when he was just an ordinary Taoist priest.

However, from Su Qing's words, he roughly understood why. The mountain god had cultivated for thousands of years, and the Taoist robe he was wearing was a dharma robe given to him by Him and nourished by the essence of the sun and moon. Ping An felt that perhaps this was the reason why he was mistaken.

"I see," Su Qing's joy dissipated, but her attitude toward Ping An remained unchanged. She gently tapped the table and then said, "Please sit down, Daoist Master."

Ping An held the whisk in one hand, placed the thumb of the other hand on the first joint of the middle finger, and nodded in greeting with a half-fist, saying, "Thank you, young lady."

Ping An and Su Qing stood facing each other. Su Qing raised her hand to indicate, "Daoist Master, you are a guest. Please take a seat."

Ping An nodded and bowed, then took his seat.

Ping An had her back to the door, but Su Qing didn't sit down. Instead, she lifted her wide sleeves, raised her palms slightly, swept them across the clean table, then flipped her palms and swept them back. Suddenly, a pure white tea set and a steaming porcelain teapot appeared on the empty table.

Su Qing lifted the teapot to add tea, and a faint fragrance wafted from the small, curved spout. The steaming hot tea emitted a light mist, and moonlight fell into the cup. Su Qing then asked, "Daoist Master, were you and those people from earlier traveling together?"

Su Qing poured her some tea before she sat down. She slowly picked up the porcelain teacup, parted her white lips slightly, and blew on the tea while waiting for Ping An's reply.

Ping An, who had just picked up his teacup, put it down upon hearing this, straightened his posture, and looked at Su Qing, saying, "If the two senior brothers and one friend just now were disrespectful to you, please forgive them. They only regarded you as a demon that was harming people."

Upon hearing this, Su Qing downed the hot tea in her cup in one gulp. She turned her head to look at Ping An, her eyes brimming with tears, and asked, "Does the Daoist priest not consider me a demon?"

Ping An stood up in surprise and bowed to Su Qing, saying, "Miss, you are not an ordinary person. I just noticed that your appearance is somewhat similar to mine. Moreover, the scriptures say that the Great Dao encompasses all things and coexists with them. Since you have never harmed anyone, you are naturally not a demon."

"Is that so?" Su Qing also stood up and asked Ping An, "But what do you mean by that, Daoist? What do we have in common? This is Qumu Town. People come here to search for treasure, and naturally, some people will disappear. Why do you think I have never harmed anyone?"

Ping An explained, “When I was young, I practiced in the temple, but my mind was troubled and my Qi went astray, almost killing me. Although I was saved, my appearance and temperament changed, and I was mostly lonely and worried, which is why we look alike.”

"The robe you are wearing was bestowed by a mountain god. It is a thousand-year-old robe, imbued with the essence of the sun and moon, and thus can nourish your meridians and ward off evil. If you, young lady, harbor impure intentions, the robe will reveal its unique characteristics."

"I see."

The two smiled at each other, and then Su Qing invited Ping An to take a seat again.

She poured herself another cup of tea and stood there gazing at the hazy moon. A tear, hanging from the corner of her eye, suddenly fell and shattered like a piece of porcelain on the ground. She asked, "I heard from the young master before that you know magic and can make divinations, so can I ask you for a favor?"

Ping An Wangyue frowned and replied, "I have had my meridians injured since childhood and they have not healed. I am only able to survive thanks to the things given to me by the Ancestor and the Mountain God. Otherwise, I would have been buried in the earth long ago. As for my magic and divination abilities, they are only superficial and I can do nothing."

"However, my senior brother She Li is proficient in this technique, so perhaps he can help you."

"Is She Li that Taoist priest?" Su Qing asked after thinking for a moment.

“That’s right.” Ping An nodded in reply, “My senior brother is a high-ranking priest in the temple. They are going to Huangzhou to slay demons and eliminate evil.”

"Exorcising demons?" Upon hearing this, Su Qing's lips suddenly curled into a faint smile: "Although my master is not a Taoist priest, he still loves to exorcise demons in the world. However, judging from your words, you and those others are not on the same path?"

Ping An gave a wry smile and said, "My master's ambition lies in the mountains and rivers, the immortal realms. I have been influenced by him since childhood and have inherited his ambition. This time, I am going down the mountain to seek an audience with the immortals in Penglai."

"I have also heard my master say that Penglai is far away, but one can sail there. I once talked to the idle chess pieces about two or three things in the human world."

Su Qing felt an indescribable joy and happiness when she mentioned her master. But Ping An was also curious and asked, "Has your master been to Penglai and met the immortals?"

She smiled and said, "I have met him. He is a good friend of Peach Blossom Immortal, one of the Three Immortals of Penglai."

"A friend of the Immortal of Longevity?" Upon hearing this, Ping An was speechless and stood up to look at Su Qing: "May I ask, is your master at home now? May I pay my respects?"

Unexpectedly, Su Qing lowered her eyes and said, "My master disappeared a hundred years ago. I am here waiting for him to return home, but I don't know when he will be able to come back." Ping An frowned and asked, "Then what you asked just now was to ask us to deduce where your master is now?"

Su Qing nodded without saying a word.

Ping An lowered his head and sighed, "Since she is a friend of an immortal, even if she is not an immortal, the young lady's cultivation level is extremely high, beyond our ability to deduce."

He then added, "However, since you are no ordinary person, why don't you leave this place and go find your master? Why wait here in vain?"

Su Qing replied, “Daoist, you may not know this, but my master’s name is Yun Zhongke. He is skilled in calligraphy and painting, enjoys carving, and loves pottery. However, he loves to travel around and is often away from home for months or even years. But it has been a hundred years since my master last left home. I once had the idea of ​​going out to look for him, but since my master left and never returned, a group of robbers came to our house and almost looted all the porcelain and jade pendants that my master had carved and polished. Although I am also a porcelain vase, I had previously cultivated a human body and escaped this calamity. However, I felt guilty for not being able to protect my master’s things. In despair, I shattered my porcelain body and tried to die, but I had nowhere to go and could not die. The shattered porcelain body repaired itself, allowing me to live on.”

Ping An was speechless. He did not know that Su Qing had such an experience. He felt pity and said, "If that is the case, then I will ask my senior brother to give it a try."

Unexpectedly, Su Qing rejected Ping An's suggestion, saying with her head lowered, "Since it's difficult to predict, I don't need to force it."

"Since you are heading to Penglai, Daoist Master, if possible, please ask Tao Shouxian for me after you see him, to see if he knows where my master is."

Ping An frowned and pondered for a long time. He came up with a plan and said, "Waiting like this is not a solution. Why don't you come with me, young lady? If we are destined to meet, you can get the news first."

Su Qing smiled and shook her head. "But I'm afraid that when Master returns that day, he won't find anyone at home, and even the objects will have disappeared. I'm afraid he'll worry. We've already waited a hundred years. Daoist, your journey to Penglai will take at least five or six years, and at most ten. I'm not afraid to wait a little longer. I only ask that Daoist remember to ask for me if you will return."

Ping An dared not agree easily, after all, he had no invitation or introduction for this trip, and he was afraid that he would return empty-handed. His previous suggestion was also based on the idea that even if the immortal did not see him, Su Qing was an artifact transformed from Yun Zhong Ke's, and would at least inform him of its whereabouts.

However, now that Su Qingyi is waiting for him here, he can only say, "If I can see the immortal, I will ask him. I will definitely pass on the news to you when I leave the immortal mountain."

She bowed deeply and said, "I am deeply grateful. When I find my master, I will definitely introduce him to me and we will discuss the Dao together."

"I will do my best," Ping An replied. "Since you are alright, I will take my leave now."

"Please take your time, Taoist priest."

Su Qing escorted Ping An to the door, and only after his figure was obscured by the narrow, dark alley did she slowly turn around and walk back to the square table.

She picked up her teacup; the water was still hot. Looking up, she saw a light mist and a hazy moonlight. Suqing raised her cup to the moon, a bittersweet expression on her face. Her white lips parted slightly as she said, "A cup of wine is not as good as tea, a bright moon is not as good as home. Master, where have you been?"

Like drinking wine or tea, she used her longing to drown her sorrows. Her eyes parted the clouds and gazed at the bright moon. Her mind seemed to return to more than a hundred years ago, to the night when she was depicted with patterns and given life.

She remembered that the raging fire burned her body all night long, and when her master held her in his hands and looked at her with delight, she smiled inwardly as well.

That day was 115 years ago, in the 30th year of the Southern China era of the Dayan Dynasty, in early spring.

She remembered that the morning light fell on the crisscrossing branches and leaves of the lush trees in Qumu Town, without the thin mist covering them. The light fell directly on her, who was sitting on that square table.

The thin, translucent bottle reflects the pure white interior, creating a stunning contrast with the blue landscape patterns, resulting in an exquisite beauty.

Yun Zhongke, with his hair tied up in a blue robe, walked from inside the house to the door. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, gazing affectionately at the round-mouthed, long-necked, round-bodied blue-and-white porcelain.

"Everyone says you, Yun Zhongke, are a romantic at heart. I didn't believe it before, but today I see that you're more than just a romantic at heart! You were practically born for love."

On the roof of the mud-brick house, a young man in an orange robe sat on the rubble. His sharp chin was striking, his thin lips parted slightly, and his high, prominent nose resembled a dragon soaring to the sky. His phoenix eyes, beneath his sword-like eyebrows, revealed both intelligence and keenness, as well as a touch of untamed wildness. This was quite different from the composed nature of Yun Zhongke and his captivating, expressive eyes.

"What else can you say besides calling me fickle? You ungrateful wretch."

Yun Zhongke stared at the newly made porcelain vase with a silly grin.

"Ok?"

The young man on the mud-brick house was immediately displeased upon hearing this. He stood up and then leaped into the courtyard. He angrily pointed at Yun Zhongke and said, "It is true that I am a wolf, but you can't call me an ingrate."

Yun Zhongke was amused by the young man's appearance. He waved his hand and said, "Then you can't say I'm sentimental. I love someone very deeply."

"Huh?" The young man was incredulous. He had never said that he was amorous. "What? I said you were devoted, not amorous. You misunderstood and blame me."

"Yeah, I just don't understand. If you like someone, just go find her. What's the point of staying here all day, reminiscing about her?"

Yun Zhongke ignored the young man's words and turned to close the door. He said, "What do you know? By the way, don't touch my porcelain vase. If you break it, I won't let you off the hook."

With a creak, the door closed.

The young man, looking at the tightly closed door, said angrily, "Just keep it to yourself! You clearly like her so much, but instead of pursuing her, all you do is tinker with your crappy stuff. It's just a painting and a few pieces of calligraphy! I can write and paint too, give me the brush."

Yun Zhongke turned to look at the young man's scolding in the courtyard just a door away, smiled helplessly, and murmured, "Love at first sight has its timing. I just happened to fall in love with her when I met her, but she was already married. I can't just take away someone else's love."

He walked deeper into the room and came to the window, looking at the pale blue celadon pot on the wooden cabinet, which also had a round mouth, long neck, and round body. He reached out and touched it. The delicate cracks on the glaze were slightly raised, like scales sewn together. The smooth body of the pot and the slight unevenness transmitted from his fingertips to his heart. He smiled and said, "Red beans grow in the south, how many branches will sprout in spring? I wish you would pick more, for this is the most cherished token of love."

"A poisonous fruit used to express longing, I don't know what the great poet Wang Wei was thinking."

With a heart full of tender emotions and eyes like rain, he looked up at the window, sighed, and said, "In this ever-changing world, what is the most potent poison that one cannot let go of?"

"What nonsense! This was written by a person to Li Guinian."

The shouting and cursing outside the door continued unabated.

(End of this chapter)