Notes on Longevity

Chapter 68 A continuous flow, used sparingly.

In the twenty-second year of Wen Shang's reign, it was the middle of winter.

Heavy snow fell on Zouma Mountain. The thick snowflakes pressed down on the tender green branches and leaves of the trees, then slowly fell, eventually piling up into a heap. The branches and leaves, unable to withstand the weight of the snow, bent over and fell off in an instant.

At the summit of Zoumaguan Mountain, the Old Ancestor Yuyang was still wearing a thin Taoist robe. However, unlike usual, he was not sitting on the stone platform, but standing at the mountain pass with Qingshui and Yuyan.

In his line of sight, on a cliff platform halfway up the mountain, Ping An, dressed in a heavy Taoist robe, held a soft sword and looked breathlessly at the young Taoist in front of him.

The young Taoist priest also held a soft sword in his hand. His handsome face showed concern as he looked at Ping An and asked, "Junior Uncle, are you alright?"

Most of the Taoist temples halfway up Zoumaguan Mountain housed disciples who had been practicing for more than six years. Although Ping An was young, he was of high seniority. His master and the abbot of Qingshui Temple addressed each other as senior brothers, and he was also a fellow disciple of Yu Yan. In addition, Ping An had been with his master since birth, so it was not an exaggeration to call him "uncle-master."

Ping An's hands went weak. He had just exchanged sword blows with the young Taoist priest. Ping An's body was already weak, but the young Taoist priest, seeing Ping An's fierce attack, had no choice but to fight back with all his might. However, he forgot that Ping An was ill, so he kicked him directly. By the time he reacted, Ping An had already been sent flying.

However, Ping An was quite talented. Although his body was weak, he was agile after two years of martial arts training. After being kicked away by the young Taoist, he thrust the tip of his soft sword into the ground. The ground and the blade collided, and the accumulated snow on the ground became a resistance, slowing Ping An's backward flight. He used the momentum to perform a backflip and landed on the ground, but his expression was not good.

Ping An felt her internal organs churning, but she still casually said, "It's nothing. Continue."

"Uncle-Master, take a break. The other brothers are all inside chanting scriptures and meditating. I've been practicing with you all morning, and I'm really tired." The young man knew that Ping An wasn't in good health, and that kick he'd just delivered must have hurt him. Seeing that Ping An wanted to continue, he simply sat down on the ground and started to whine and complain.

Upon hearing the young Taoist's words, Ping An, who had been forcing himself to stand, immediately knelt down. He looked towards the young man, but all he could see was a vast expanse of white. He couldn't see where the young man was; he only heard someone calling him.

"Uncle Ping An! Uncle Ping An?" The young Taoist priest immediately stopped pretending when he saw Ping An about to fall. He got up and ran to Ping An's side to help him up.

"It's over, Uncle-Master, you're getting me into trouble!" The young Taoist priest said helplessly as he saw Ping An faint.

The Old Ancestor of Yuyang witnessed this scene. He shook his head and sighed, "This child is too obsessed."

Qingshui and Yuyan looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Clear water,” the Old Ancestor of Yuyang called out.

"Ancestor," Qingshui turned around and bowed to Yuyang.

"Let this child not practice martial arts. Bring him to the mountaintop, and I'll watch over him." After saying this, Yu Yang turned into a wisp of white smoke and merged with the falling snow, disappearing without a trace.

"Yes." Shimizu bowed in the direction where Yuyang had disappeared.

In the twenty-second year of Wen Shang's reign, at the beginning of his later years.

Since Ping An was taken to the mountaintop by Qing Shui, it has never snowed again. Looking at the spring-like scene on the mountaintop and the white-clad figures at his feet, he felt a deep silence in his heart.

"Ancestor, didn't you tell me to go down the mountain? Why did you send me here again?" Ping An turned around and asked Yu Yang, who was sitting in the center of the stone platform, with a puzzled look.

“Your obsessions run too deep; it’s not suitable for you to practice martial arts. You should read more scriptures and calm your mind,” Yu Yang said slowly with his eyes closed.

Ping An was puzzled upon hearing this: "Ping An has no obsessions, what does the Ancestor mean by this?"

“You are attached to something without realizing it, and your thoughts run deep. Try reciting scriptures to calm your mind.” Yu Yang opened his eyes with a hint of helplessness. He looked at Ping An and shook his head, saying, “Nourish your inner energy, forget words, and guard your nature. When your nature is still, your inner energy will naturally return. Focus on your studies.” After saying this, Yu Yang closed his eyes again. Ping An stared blankly at Yu Yang sitting on the stone platform, motionless.

He sighed, head bowed, his mind filled with many conflicting thoughts. These thoughts were indescribable and inexplicable. In truth, he had been startled when the Old Ancestor of Yuyang said that his obsessions ran too deep. He felt he had hidden them so well; how could they have been so easily seen through?

He arrived at the stone platform, looked at the Taoist scriptures scattered on it, picked up one at random, opened it to the first page, and began to read it word by word: "Of all learning, none is greater than the study of human nature and destiny."

In the twenty-second year of Wen Shang's reign, at the end of the year, in the early morning.

As the saying goes, "The year's livelihood depends on spring." On the last day of the year, the heavy snow stopped, and the sun gradually rose from the east. Zoumaguan was also busy at this time.

Disciples stood in various training grounds at the foot of the mountain, halfway up, and atop the mountain. They wielded various swords, spears, and halberds, practicing their skills; some practiced fist techniques, others leg techniques. The Great Way is cultivated in the mind and spirit; external physical methods are insufficient for martial arts training. It strengthens the body and nourishes the mind.

After finishing their martial arts practice, they picked up brooms and began cleaning the dojo. As for cultivation, the Daoist methods are something that can be cultivated; but beyond the Daoist methods, every movement and stillness is also a form of cultivation.

Suddenly, a loud noise from the mountaintop made everyone look up, where they saw a huge, pale blue wheel spinning above their heads.

At the top of the mountain, Ping An stood outside the stone platform, his eyes fixed on the ancestor dancing on the platform.

"Tai Chi is gentle yet powerful."

“Taiji generates Yin and Yang, Yin and Yang generate the Four Symbols, the Four Symbols generate the Eight Trigrams, this is the trigram plate.” He said this while looking up at the trigram plate above his head.

The divination plate looked at the divination plate above Yu Yang's head, and then looked down at the broken horizontal lines on the stone platform at Yu Yang's feet. They were exactly the same.

"This divination plate was crafted when I obtained the art of immortality. The stone platform beneath my feet was made using the divination plate as its image." Yu Yang retracted the divination plate from his head and continued to Ping An, "Later, I used the stone platform as its core and placed the divination plate within it, creating a magic array. If anything gets close, it can protect everyone. However, this magic array has a flaw: spells cannot be used while the array is activated, otherwise the array will backfire and harm me."

"When I went up the mountain, my senior brother told me that there were magic arrays in the mountains and that we couldn't use magic indiscriminately. Now I understand why."

"Ancestor, what exactly is the Great Dao?" Ping An walked up to the stone platform and asked Yu Yang.

“The Great Way is different in everyone’s heart. It has no fixed ideas, no fixed objects,” Yu Yang replied with a smile, patting Ping An’s head with satisfaction.

"If that's the case, what use are the Taoist scriptures left behind by those sages of ancient times?" Ping An seemed to have returned to his childhood. He used to look at his master with the same innocence and ask questions.

“The things left by our predecessors are meant to guide future generations. If you don’t have these, do you know that the path you are cultivating is the true path?” Yu Yang said with a smile.

Yu Yang put one arm around Ping An's shoulder and pointed around with the other: "Look at all things in heaven and earth. When all things revive, it is spring; when all things are dormant, it is winter. If our ancestors had not left these things, would you know what winter is and what spring is?"

Ping An followed Yu Yang's gaze and saw that the trees, which were covered in silver, were beginning to put on their spring clothes, and there were many more birds than usual. He sighed, "It is as if it is constantly in use, and we do not need to use it often."

Yu Yang laughed loudly, "Do you still have any obsessions in your heart?"

"What are these things: what you hold onto, what you think about, what you ponder, and what you desire?" Ping An smiled faintly.

“It is doing something without doing anything,” Yu Yang said.

(End of this chapter)