I became an immortal in the Tang Dynasty

Chapter 231 Inviting Zhang Guolao to Chang'an (+9)

The servant gripped the iron chain and looked up at him.

"We'll arrive in a little while!"

“We are much better off than we were a few years ago. Back then, there wasn’t even a pontoon bridge, so we had to cross by boat. The current was also treacherous, making it much more difficult than it is now.”

The servant muttered incessantly, both to encourage his master and to boost his own morale.

His legs were so weak from walking that none of them dared to look down at their feet.

In a thatched hut somewhere on the mountain.

Zhang Guolao rolled over, scratched his back, yawned, looked around, and felt strange, as if someone was thinking about him.

I feel a little uneasy.

He looked at the monk.

"Stop copying! Put down your pen and go take a walk outside. See if anyone else is on the mountain. Is the emperor sending someone to find me again?"

The monk put down the paper and brush he was using to study Taoist teachings and went outside for a stroll.

Half an hour later, he pushed open the dilapidated door of the thatched hut.

"I didn't see anyone."

Zhang Guolao asked, "Have you seen all the places?"

The monk nodded.

“I’ve seen everything except the dangerous stream. Down the mountain, there are only some woodcutters and fishermen, either trying to make a living or reclusive scholars living in the mountains. There are no officials in official robes.”

Zhang Guolao breathed a slight sigh of relief.

He turned over and continued lying down.

But I couldn't fall asleep.

Zhang Guolao simply found a book, sat cross-legged on the couch, and began to read. He had bought it specifically because he saw Jiang She often reading Taoist scriptures, travelogues, and vernacular stories, which made him appear very refined, and he didn't want to be outdone.

After reading for a while, Zhang Guolao was engrossed in the story about a man who had mistakenly entered the land of the Yakshas.

He slapped his thigh and laughed heartily.

"What a fool! Where is the land of the Yakshas?"

"These villagers mistake the people from Kucha, Arabia, and India in the distance for demons. How interesting! Haha, I must tell Mr. Jiang about it next time!"

The monk watched Zhang Guolao laughing so hard he was doubled over.

He showed no trace of the legendary old immortal from the foot of the mountain, nor any hint of the ancient spirit that claimed to be from the time of Yao and Shun.

The monk spoke in a somber tone.

"If our old benefactor were to reveal this side of himself and let the people down the mountain see it, then probably no one would bother to visit and seek immortality."

Zhang Guolao still cared about his reputation, so he only showed this side of himself to acquaintances in private.

"How can that be done?"

“Once this emperor dies, he will stop seeking immortality,” Zhang Guolao shook his head.

The monk disagreed.

"Then there will be another emperor seeking immortality. Throughout history, there have been many emperors who sought immortality and asked questions. Even Emperor Taizong, who was once a god-like and mighty ruler with countless achievements, could not escape this fate in the end."

Zhang Guolao shook his head as he listened.

“I’m not getting involved. Besides, with Mr. Jiang here, why do you think they’d come looking for me?”

What can I do?

"Three years have passed, and I still haven't figured out what the 'hidden universe' in my sleeve is!"

The last sentence sounded a bit sour.

He watched Jiang She enter a meditative state for three years. At first, he went to Mount Tai to check on the situation after Jiang finished his meditation, but as time went on, he became even more curious about how long this person could remain in meditation.

During this period, he also studied many different methods.

It mainly comes down to those few skills that were only briefly shown to him.

What about the hidden universe in the sleeve, the harmony of yin and yang... and flying through the clouds, and that damned blinding technique, how exactly did they manage to cover up Mount Tai?

The more Zhang Guolao thought about it, the less he understood.

He tried to find the Yin and Yang energies and put them into his sleeve, but they vanished in an instant.

How exactly can one create their own world?

I racked my brains for three years, failing countless times.

It also cannot achieve what Jiang She said before: "All things carry yin and embrace yang, and achieve harmony through the interaction of these two energies. Take these two energies and store them in your sleeves. They generate and grow together, in an endless cycle."

In the end, even Zhang Guolao felt somewhat helpless.

The monk smiled. There was still a large scar on his neck, which had faded and was no longer so noticeable.

The monk advised:

"My old benefactor has his own method of life and death, which can prolong life and comprehend life and death. It is extremely profound, and it is very difficult for others to learn it."

"Everyone has their strengths, why should an old benefactor hold a grudge?"

Zhang Guolao put down his storybook.

That's true.

But isn't it true that people with the surname Jiang have too many strengths?
Zhang Guolao stroked his beard, accidentally plucking out a few white hairs with a hiss. He looked down and then put the hairs back in.

It was mixed in, as if it had never been dropped.

Zhang Guolao sighed with emotion.

“You’re right. My method of life and death is also extraordinary.”

"Those cultivators who boast of their profound Taoist skills and countless supernatural powers, I doubt they've even learned a fraction of it!"

Zhang Guo thought to himself.

He began trying to capture the pure energy of heaven and earth, wanting to learn how to trap it in his sleeve. He tugged at his sleeve for a long time, his eyes filled with anticipation, waiting for it to "form its own world."

The monk glanced at it, smiled, and shook his head.

He continued to unfold the runes he had been copying halfway through, studying the single character "敕" (chì).

The more I look at it, the more I feel that way.

It is ever-changing and extremely profound.

Three years have passed, and the monk has not only failed to capture even a fraction of the imagery, but he also feels that he is getting further and further away from the Great Way. Every time he tries to write it down...

The crooked and distorted imagery cannot capture even a fraction of the atmosphere within.

It looks more like a child's random doodle.

The monk was not annoyed and continued writing slowly. Since he had already seen the path, it was better than spending his whole life studying only to find that he was on the wrong path.

Although it is highly likely that he will not be able to write it down before he dies, what does it matter? There are so many Taoist methods that cannot be learned.

The old man studied the two energies of heaven and earth.

The monk comprehended the profound Dharma.

So the two of them were so engrossed in their work that they didn’t notice the approaching footsteps.

……

……

"call--!"

"Finally, we made it to the top."

The officials were sweating profusely from exhaustion. Several people, panting heavily, were holding onto tree branches as they stood on the mountain. In the distance, they could see a thatched hut that was neither new nor old.

The official took a moment to catch his breath before he felt his heart finally calm down.

His solemn official robes were already wrinkled and crumpled. The official snapped out of his daze, straightened his dignified appearance, and tried his best to smooth out the robes. There was nothing he could do about the fabric being splashed by the river, but fortunately, the hot weather made it dry quickly, and it didn't look too bad.

The servants and guards beside him were not much better off than he was.

The official glanced at it twice and gave instructions.

“You should also tidy up yourselves. We are here to recruit virtuous people for the Sage, and we must not be lacking in appearance.”

Once the others were dressed neatly and properly, they looked very dignified, like imperial envoys.

The group then continued their journey.

They walked toward the thatched hut.

Upon reaching the entrance, facing the dilapidated door, and recalling the hardships and dangers they had faced along the way, the group felt a surge of emotion and gratitude.

The official took a deep breath, focused his energy, and said in a loud voice:
"By imperial decree, His Majesty specially invites Mr. Zhang Guolao to the capital Chang'an to meet the Emperor—"

……

"thump!"

Zhang Guolao fell off the bed, and the pure energy he had been forcibly holding in his hand instantly vanished into thin air, returning to the world.

Ignoring the pain, he glared angrily at the monk.

How did you investigate this person?

【Ask for monthly ticket】

(End of this chapter)