I became an immortal in the Tang Dynasty

Chapter 232 Send a message thousands of miles
The monk was caught off guard and was about to apologize.

"Shh!"

Zhang Guolao glared at him, signaling the monk to be quiet and not make a sound. He placed the book back on the table, then lay back on the couch, slumped over, and resumed his afternoon nap.

With her eyes closed, she seemed to fall asleep very quickly.

Outside the thatched cottage.

The officials, servants, and guards waited quietly for a while.

The servant turned to look at the official.

He lowered his voice: "Ah Lang, there seems to be no one inside. Have we come to the wrong place? Or... is the immortal not at home?"

The official listened carefully and found that there was indeed no sound coming from inside the room.

He looked around the thatched hut.

My gaze fell on the doorway.

A white donkey was tied up outside, munching on grass with its head down, its tail swishing back and forth, leisurely and carefree, having eaten all the wild grass nearby bare.

The previous times they came, they didn't see the donkey; the thatched hut was deserted, and they couldn't find Zhang Guolao anywhere.

The official spoke:
"The donkey was tied outside, so Mr. Zhang Guo must have been inside."

“A true master is hard to find. His refusal to show himself now is a test of our sincerity. Ah Ren, we'll wait here…”

Once the officer spoke, the group calmed down.

Zhang Guolao was a highly accomplished Taoist immortal.

In the thirteenth year of the Kaiyuan era, he rode a donkey through Yanzhou and determined the fate of Prince Qi. He and his friends even left behind a calligraphy scroll, which is still being copied by people in front of the temple to this day.

Strangely enough, we haven't been able to find any trace of them for the past few years.

Fortunately, I finally met the person on this trip, which is a testament to the sage's trust.

……

……

Inside the thatched cottage.

Zhang Guolao glared. "Test my foot! Who told them to wait?"
Emperors are such a nuisance.

With these people around, he couldn't delve into the art of concealing his power within his sleeve. If any further disturbances occurred, things would likely become even more difficult to handle. Zhang Guolao simply picked up his book and continued reading the tale of the man who had mistakenly entered the land of the Yakshas.

Once these people are gone, he will definitely hide far away.

After a long time.

Zhang Guolao couldn't help but burst into laughter, clapping his hands and saying, "This is interesting! I'll tell Mr. Jiang about it later..."

The laughter stopped abruptly halfway through.

Those outside had already heard the conversation inside, and their faces lit up with joy as they bowed deeply.

The sound was loud and clear, reaching into the room.

"By imperial decree, His Majesty specially invites Mr. Zhang Guolao to the capital Chang'an to meet the Emperor—"

The smile on Zhang Guolao's face vanished instantly.

He put the storybook aside, whispered a few words of instruction, and told the monk to open the door and greet the guest. When the door opened, Zhang Guolao took the opportunity to glance at the person outside. He saw that the person outside was dressed in an official robe, dressed in bright colors, with a belt around his waist. Sure enough, he was an official again, which was really a headache.

"I have seen a celestial being!"

Upon seeing someone emerge, the officials, servants, and guards immediately clasped their hands in a gesture of respect.

The monk raised his palm, dodged slightly, and bowed gently.

"This humble monk would not dare to do such a thing."

“My old benefactor has important business to attend to and is not currently in this mountain. The donkey and the hut are being looked after by this humble monk. Please return home.”

What he said wasn't entirely wrong.

Since parting ways on the ship in Yanzhou, Zhang Guolao has been diligently studying the method of "Universe in the Sleeve," constantly trying to capture the pure and turbid energies of heaven and earth, wanting to create his own universe like Mr. Jiang, with continuous operation—but so far he has not achieved anything.

Going to Chang'an to see the emperor was certainly not as comfortable as studying immortal techniques.

The officials were surprised.

"The immortals are not in this mountain?"

"Yes."

The monk nodded. He had followed Zhang Guolao and learned many lies.

The official looked at the white donkey at the entrance.

"Then why didn't this donkey appear during the previous visits?"

“My old benefactor returned once, leaving the donkey here, and then went on his travels. Now he may be visiting friends in a famous mountain, or he may be fishing by a stream; I do not know for sure.”

As the monk spoke, he added a reminder: "Our old benefactor doesn't like being called an immortal or a human immortal, so it would be better if you all addressed him differently."

The officials and others exchanged glances.

He asked with utmost respect:
"When will Master Zhang Guo return?"

The monk bowed.

"This humble monk does not know."

The door to the thatched hut closed again, and the group stared at the shut door, exchanging bewildered glances. After a while, someone whispered:
"Who are you trying to fool? We all heard the loud laughter from inside just now..."

"Yes, I heard it clearly."

The others looked at the official with difficulty, unsure of what to do next.

They walked for four or five days, crossing the swaying pontoon bridge over the turbulent river, enduring great hardship, before finally discovering Zhang Guolao's whereabouts.

Are we really going back?

The official pondered.

“A wise man always acts as he pleases. Let us wait here and let Master Guo see our intentions.”

"They must be treated with respect and courtesy, and must not be neglected."

Everyone waited for a long time.

Voices, laughter, and snoring could be heard from inside. There was even a faint aroma of cooking wafting over, but those waiting outside couldn't hear it clearly, which only fueled their curiosity.

They waited until their legs went numb from standing.

Some even couldn't hold it in and forcibly suppressed the urge to go to the toilet.

Staring at the tightly closed door, each day felt like an eternity.

A gust of wind blew by, and a piece of scrap paper was blown over from who-knows-where.

The wind stopped, and the piece of scrap paper, which had been carelessly folded twice, bumped against the closed door and fell flat outside.

Where did the paper come from?

"It must be blowing from down the mountain!"

"How did I end up at the door of the immortal... Master Guo? Don't sully the entrance of such a master."

The group whispered among themselves. The official looked left and right, then instructed a servant to go and pick up the paper and bring it over.

"There are words on this paper."

The servant muttered something under his breath; he didn't know many characters, and he read it out in a jumbled voice: "Since we parted in what state, it's been many days, Jiang..."

Just as I was about to continue reading.

The door was suddenly flung open with a loud bang.

An old man with a white beard and wrinkled clothes rushed out. His shoes were dragging on his feet, and he snatched the paper away.

Zhang Guolao held the paper and looked at it solemnly.

The more I read, the more delighted I become.

Zhang Guolao laughed heartily.

Forgetting all about maintaining an air of superiority in front of others: "Haha, the gentleman actually wrote me a letter! Huh? What's with that scholar...?"

How could someone who has been dead for four years come back to life?
Zhang Guolao had never heard of such a thing.

He was puzzled and read the paper three times to make sure it had really come back to life.

murmured:
"You learned that? That's strange, really strange... I never knew you could do that..."

He carefully tucked the paper into his pocket.

Zhang Guolao untied the donkey's rope, patted the white donkey's head, and even after his sleeve was chewed, he still smiled.

“Good donkey, come with me.”

The official quickly stepped forward.

Seeing Zhang Guolao riding his donkey backwards, about to leave, he called out loudly, "When did you return home, Master Guolao? The Emperor has summoned you to Chang'an—"

"If you go to the capital, you may be granted a Taoist temple and an official title—"

The sound was so loud it hurt my ears.

But when the officials looked over, they could no longer see that hurried figure.

Only one sentence remained in the wind.

"What Chang'an? The old man is very busy!"

【Ask for monthly ticket】

(End of this chapter)