The Northern Song Dynasty returned south, seeking the truth of the Dao.

At this moment, the clouds dispersed and the rain ceased, the dark clouds scattering in all directions. Wang Huanzhen stood up, looking at the rays of sunlight that were once again falling upon his head. A thousand choices flashed through his mind as he looked back at the vast天地 (heaven and earth) behind the mountain.

He stood on the mountaintop for a long time, but finally decided to pack his belongings and continue south. He wore the jade pendant around his neck and tucked it into his collar. He searched among the scattered corpses of golden figures for a while.

He found some gold, silver, and provisions for his march, enough to last him until he reached the next prefecture. He then stopped and headed back the way he had come. Most of the trees along the way had been reduced to charcoal.

The darkness seemed to have become the mountain's skin. Fortunately, because the trees had fallen, the entire mountain was bare, and he could see the familiar cave almost without needing to figure out his direction.

Although the cave entrance was blackened by the fire, the flames did not spread into the cave. Wang Zhenhuan returned to the cave and sat down beside the stone table. Looking at the three bowls of rice porridge on the table, his heart ached.

In the chapter "Knowing the North" in the Zhuangzi, it is written: "Life between heaven and earth is like a white horse flashing past a crack, gone in an instant." Seeing these three bowls of rice porridge, which he hadn't yet eaten, he finally realized what was happening.

In just half a day, he was all alone. He held back his tears, his eyes red, and picked up the bowl of rice porridge. He drank it down, bowl after bowl.

For some reason, the rice porridge, which had smelled so good when it was fresh out of the pot that he had taken a small bite despite it being scalding hot, was now filled with only the unremoved millet husks, which kept fighting with his tongue in his mouth.

It wasn't just the millet husks in his bowl that were hard to swallow, but also his lonely heart. He wasn't actually waiting for anyone; he simply didn't want to leave. Wang Huanzhen sat at the table, staring blankly at the cave entrance.

A light rain began to fall outside. It seemed as if the heavens were mourning this dead mountain. The rainwater mixed with the scorched earth, forming streams as black as ink, washing away the resentment that permeated the mountain.

Wang Zhen knew he probably couldn't escape the rain. He got up, placed the luggage he had found on the table, walked out of the cave, and stood at the entrance, letting the rain fall on him.

The rain not only soaked the mountain peaks but also blurred his vision; the somber hues made it hard for him to breathe. He roared at the mountain, as if to vent all the anger within him.

A mysterious thing happened. After his angry roar ended, as if the heavens had heard his call, the light rain gradually stopped. Wang Zhen wiped the raindrops, whether from rain or tears, from his face.

Back in the cave, he composed himself. The rain would eventually stop, and those who had parted would eventually meet again. This brief separation was for a better reunion in the future. Through his clothes, he touched the jade pendant on his chest.

The raised texture reassured him considerably. After a moment's thought, Wang Zhen slung his luggage over his shoulder and hung the curved knife at his waist. He stood at the cave entrance and took another look at the scene inside.

He closed his eyes, as if trying to memorize everything. When he opened them again, the light in his eyes had been rekindled. Wang Huanzhen turned around, waved goodbye to the cave, and then walked down the mountain.

He was currently in Fengfu, and since he was already heading west, he decided to make the best of it and continue westward along the Wen River, heading towards Jizhou and then Yingtian.

These Jurchens have just captured Fengfu, indicating they haven't yet reached Tokyo. Therefore, Yingtian, located southeast of Tokyo, should be safe. It was just past the hour of Wei (1-3 PM).

After descending the mountain, Wang Zhen returned to the official road and, following his pre-arranged plan, headed upstream along the Wen River. As he traveled, he recalled the words that Daoist Luo Puzi had spoken to him before their parting.

Suddenly, he seemed to remember something. He looked around and found a relatively clean stone. After putting down his bundle, he opened it and searched for a while, finding a wooden plaque.

This wooden plaque was none other than a gift from Daoist Luo Puzi before he left. At the time, he was preoccupied with the jade pendant and didn't examine it closely. He glanced at it once and then put it in his pocket.

Now, recalling the scene, he remembered the words of Daoist Luo Puzi. The Daoist had said that the wooden plaque might hold the opportunity for him to seek enlightenment. So, he hurriedly found the wooden plaque and examined it carefully in his hand.

The wooden plaque was small, about the size of a palm. He had initially thought it was some kind of talisman, but now it seemed to be different from what he had imagined. The plaque was very crudely made.

Both sides are engraved with characters. The front side has a Tai Chi Yin-Yang pattern, and above it, four large characters are engraved in red cinnabar: Shangqing Dharma Assembly!

The Shangqing Dharma Assembly? Wang Zhenhuan was startled. He remembered that Daoist Luo Puzi had said that Gezao Mountain was a branch of the Shangqing lineage. If that was the case, then Gezao Mountain would definitely be attending this Shangqing Dharma Assembly, right?

Then, would he be able to meet Lin Qingyan? Thinking of this, Wang Zhenhuan was filled with excitement. Originally, he planned to travel southwest to Yingtian before making further plans.

Now he has a new goal. He excitedly flipped over the wooden plaque and looked at the small characters on the back. It read: "A thousand years of Shangqing, talismans guide people, the law has taboos, the Tao can be sought truthfully."

Written at: Yingtanfang, Xinzhou, on the ninth day of the first month of the Bingwu year.

The date on the back of the wooden plaque dampened Wang Zhenhuan's spirits. It was the seventh year of Xuanhe, just into autumn, around August or September of the year Yi Si. The year Bing Wu was next year.

In other words, the Shangqing Dharma Assembly will be held on the ninth day of the first lunar month next year in Yingtanfang, Xinzhou. Xinzhou is present-day Jiangxi. Yingtan, Jiangxi, is the ancestral home of the famous Shangqing sect, Longhu Mountain.

There are still more than half a month until mid-autumn, not to mention the first month of next year. That's plenty of time for him to get to Xinzhou. After Wang Zhen really understood, he nodded.

Originally, I planned to put the wooden plaque in my bundle, but after thinking about it, I took it out anyway and carefully put it in my bosom. Master Luo Puzi had once said that this wooden plaque might hold the opportunity for him to seek enlightenment.

Therefore, both logically and emotionally, Wang Zhen really had to go to Xinzhou. This wooden sign was clearly for entry; if he accidentally lost it on the way, forget about any chance encounter, he would even have difficulty seeing Lin Qingyan.

After much deliberation, Wang Zhenhuan decided to keep the luggage close to his body. He repacked his belongings, and the sun was about to set. He hurriedly got up and returned to the road.

Just before sunset, they finally found an abandoned thatched hut by the roadside. Although the hut was drafty, it was at least a place to stay. Wang Zhenhuan didn't mind.

He'd lived in many dilapidated houses in the south, and besides, he now had the jade pendant with him, so he had nothing to fear. After lighting the fire, he subconsciously took out two pieces of dry food and placed them beside the fire.

Turning around, he realized he was all alone now, so he put another piece back into his bundle.

Living alone, even the days seem to stretch on endlessly…