Don't farm, cultivate immortality!

If you ask her what she really knows, she'll take a bite of the warm glutinous rice cake in her hand and mumble a few words indistinctly.

As they walked, the three of them arrived at the paper shop.

Zhuang Xing peeked at the letter written by Daoist Qingxuzi, which was tucked into his arms.

The old man was sitting leisurely by the charcoal brazier, holding a wine jug in his hand, drinking wine to warm himself while warming himself by the fire.

Zhuang Xing breathed a sigh of relief; the old gentleman seemed to be in good health.

He stepped across the threshold with his two younger sisters.

There weren't many customers in the paper shop. Although it didn't seem like there was much business, these days most people who come to buy paper are organized and disciplined.

It's either Buddhist temples and Taoist monasteries that come to buy paper for sacrificial rites and talismans, or literati and artists who come to buy paper for calligraphy and painting. This shop doesn't sell paper money for burning to the dead, so ordinary people naturally don't patronize it. At most, people come here to buy a couplet with calligraphy already written on it to paste on their doors and windows during the New Year or when they get married.

The old man's shop was just for show. In reality, his real customers would place orders months in advance, pay a deposit, and then deliver the goods directly. They wouldn't come to the shop to buy a few measly items.

When Zhuang Xing came to Yidu this time, he was only wearing ordinary clothes and not his Taoist robe. He had changed a lot, but the old gentleman frowned and looked at him a few times before recognizing him.

"You are that person, what's your name again, Zhuang... Zhuang..." the old man tried hard to remember.

"My name is Zhuang Xing," Zhuang Xing replied respectfully.

"Is that old man here?" The old man looked towards the door, but did not see his old friend.

“My master is old and has difficulty walking, so he can no longer travel far. But he still misses the old gentleman, so he asked his disciple to come to Yidu to deliver the letter.”

Zhuang Xing took out the letter from his pocket and handed it over.

"This fellow..." The old man was both angry and amused, but he still took the letter, put down the wine pot, sat up straight, opened it, and read it carefully.

Chapter 280 Where Did the Master Come From?

Besides the old man, there was also a young man running errands in the paper shop.

This young man was someone Zhuang Xing had never seen before. The two sides did not know each other, but when the young man saw that the old man was reading a letter and had no time to take care of the guests, he quickly came over and greeted Zhuang Xing and his two companions.

"May I ask where you come from, sir?" the young man asked.

He looked to be no more than twenty years old, so he was probably not the old man's son. If he was related to the old man by blood, he was most likely a grandchild.

Indeed, that was the case. His name was Cai Bei, the old man's eldest grandson. He was seventeen years old this year. In earlier years, his family had paid for him to study at a private school, hoping that he would become a scholar, pass the imperial examinations, and become an official in the future.

However, he was simply not cut out for studying. After many years of studying, including further studies in other places, he had not achieved anything. He also disliked the dry poetry and classics, so he eventually returned to inherit the family business and continue to pass on his family's paper shop and craftsmanship.

He heard the old man call Zhuang Xing's name. Although this name was not universally known in Yidu, most people had heard of it. However, the name was not particularly distinctive. Two-character names like this were everywhere. There must be at least dozens or hundreds of people in Yidu with the surname Zhuang and the given name Xing.

However, he knew that his grandfather had some connection with the renowned Xuanqing Temple. Although he had never met Master Zhuang, he could tell from the appearance of the man that he was an old acquaintance of his grandfather, and that he was handsome with sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, and named Zhuang Xing, that he had a pretty good idea of ​​who he was.

The characters from the story appeared before him, which stirred something within him.

He didn't like studying, but he was very interested in supernatural tales.

Compared to studying, he actually wanted to learn martial arts and swordsmanship more. Unfortunately, when he was a child, a kind-looking old man examined his physique and said that he had no talent for martial arts. Even if he tried to practice, he would not be able to open the acupoints in his body. So his grandfather sent him to a private school.

Even when he was sitting in the study, he would often be lost in thought, his mind wandering to other worlds.

The Taoist priests who exorcise demons and protect the Way are precisely the ones most closely connected to these supernatural events, so he looked at Zhuang Xing differently, eager to hear the Taoist priest himself talk about his experience of exorcising demons, and thus warmly welcomed him.

Zhuang Xing felt that the young man's gaze was a bit strange. If they were outside, he would have run away in a hurry to avoid getting involved in anything unnecessary. But today, they were in his elder's shop, and the old man was still reading a letter. He hadn't even finished reading it and hadn't asked if he should take a reply back to the mountain. So he could only deal with it without changing his expression.

"I come from Xuanqing Temple, and the two people beside me are my two younger sisters." Zhuang Xing cupped his hands. "Perhaps you have already recognized me, but please do not make a sound."

After arriving in Yidu, he always adhered to the principle of keeping a low profile and only wore ordinary clothes. From his attire, one could not tell that he was a Taoist priest.

There was nothing he could do. He knew he was quite famous in Yidu. Back when he stayed at the White Horse Temple with the old Taoist priest, he hadn't changed out of his Taoist robes yet. Walking down the street, he would turn heads. Now, his fame was even greater, and people were saying he was a reincarnated lucky star. If his identity were exposed, someone might come up and touch him, just to get some good fortune.

Who knows, his clothes might become treasures for others. This isn't an exaggeration. He remembers that some famous people even put their fingernails and excrement at auctions. He doesn't want to be surrounded by people on the street and end up with tattered clothes, with even his red underwear showing. That would be incredibly embarrassing.

“I understand, I understand. My name is Cai Bei, and I am the grandson of Master Cai. I am here in the shop to learn more from my grandfather.” Cai Bei looked like he understood perfectly. “Master Zhuang, please come in and have a seat. I will go and pour tea for Master Zhuang and the two sisters.”

Cai Bei's furtive expression made Zhuang Xing chuckle. He was reminded of the vendors selling pirated DVDs in the backstreets and alleys. The young man looked like he was about to unfurl his sleeves and reveal a shiny wall of DVDs, then ask, "Handsome, want to buy some DVDs?"

Even so, since the other party treated him with courtesy, he suppressed his laughter and returned the courtesy, leading Jasmine and her younger sister into the house.

Cai Bei brought out a stool and poured hot tea.

The three of them had walked quite a distance and wanted to rest, so they sat down as instructed.

Little Jasmine is well-mannered and knowledgeable, while her younger sister is a wild child. However, her strength had been almost exhausted on the journey, so she lost her desire to cause trouble and simply drank water and ate dates.

Cai Bei sat down happily. While pouring tea, he observed Zhuang Xing and found that the rumors were indeed true. Despite his young age, Master Zhuang had an extraordinary temperament and was as gentle and refined as jade.

He couldn't wait to ask Zhuang Xing about what he had heard in Yidu: "I heard that Master Zhuang is a lucky star descended from heaven. I wonder what the scenery in heaven is like?"

“Brother Cai, you’re exaggerating. That’s just a rumor,” Zhuang Xing replied. “I’m just an ordinary Taoist priest. I was born into a small farming family. My master took a liking to me and sent me to the mountains to cultivate for a while. Other than that, I’m no different from Brother Cai. Everyone is born as an infant, and I’m no different. How could I be a lucky star descended to earth?”

Zhuang Xing tried his best to correct the rumor. He could let the rumors spread as they pleased, treating them as mere fictional stories with no connection to him. But since he was sitting down to have a detailed discussion with someone, he didn't want to be labeled with any nonsense.

But Cai Bei was still pondering Zhuang Xing's words, muttering to himself, "Everyone is born an infant..."

This sounds simple, but few people think this way in this era. After all, there are real class divisions, and slaves and maids are not uncommon. From childhood, they are taught that people are divided into high and low, noble and base.

Cai Bei felt that Zhuang Xingjian's simple words contained profound truths, and that Master Zhuang was indeed extraordinary.

The young man's eyes brightened, and he asked, "To be honest, I often heard stories about Master Zhuang in Yidu, such as the white-tailed dog, the Master's journey to the capital to meet the Emperor, and the story of slaying all the demons in the water. I always felt that there was more to hear about these stories in the teahouse. I wonder if these stories are true or false?"

"I don't know much about that," Zhuang Xing said. "After all, I don't come to Yidu often, nor do I often go to teahouses to listen to storytellers. But I imagine that in order to attract listeners, storytellers must have exaggerated and adapted many things. The story that Brother Cai heard may be quite different from the truth."

"I see. That is truly a pity."

The young man said this, but there was no regret on his face. Instead, he stared straight at Zhuang Xing. Zhuang Xing then realized that the look in his eyes was actually eager. He was actually a leisurely person who loved to listen to stories.

Chapter 281 Seeing Words is Like Seeing the Person

"Sigh... So what I heard in that teahouse was all just made-up stories." Cai Bei sighed and patted his thigh. "It's such a pity that we can't know the truth."

Zhuang Xing sensed the hidden meaning in Cai Bei's words; the look of regret was clearly meant for him.

This person is quite interesting. He clearly wants to hear what he has to say, but he doesn't ask questions. Instead, he hands over the initiative to him. It's a roundabout way of speaking, which is quite enjoyable.

Well then, we've walked all this way, drunk their tea, borrowed their stools, and told them a few stories—that's my way of returning the favor.

Zhuang Xing then followed up Cai Bei's words by asking, "Brother Cai, would you like to hear the truth?"

"hey-hey."

When Cai Bei saw that Zhuang Xing had responded to him, he smiled, but he lowered his voice considerably and cautiously glanced at his grandfather reading a letter by the brazier.

Cai Bei said, “I’m not afraid of being laughed at by Master Zhuang. Since I was young, my elders and parents sent me to a private school to study the classics. But after studying for more than ten years, I still have no interest in the Four Books and Five Classics. I know that I am really stupid, so I returned to my hometown to resume the family business.”

"Although I am only a beginner in papermaking, I have been exposed to it since childhood, so it is not enough to tarnish my family's reputation. However, I have no great ambitions in my life. I just like those supernatural tales, but I do not have the ability to exorcise demons. It is rare to meet a master like Master Zhuang. If Master Zhuang is willing to tell me some stories, hehe, I will listen attentively."

Cai Bei said with a fawning expression, the words "ignorant and incompetent" were perfectly reflected on his face.

No wonder he didn't dare to speak loudly; he was afraid that his grandfather would hear him, take out a board, and spank his grandson who couldn't concentrate on his studies.

The old man did have a fiery temper and was a straightforward and frank person. It was clear that Cai Bei was a little afraid of his grandfather, as his eyes kept drifting towards the ruler on the square table.

Even so, his thirst for stories prompted him to sit down in front of Zhuang Xing.

He was risking a spanking just to listen to Zhuang Xing's story.

But before Zhuang Xing could speak, he thought of the old book in his bag.

When he went down the mountain, he had already decided that while delivering the letter to the old Taoist priest, he would also take his own "Demon-Slaying Chronicles" to Yidu to be printed and compiled into a book.

Actually, he does have a desire to share; otherwise, he wouldn't have compiled his experiences over the years.

He thought about it and figured that since the Cai family mainly made paper, they probably had some knowledge of printing and writing books.

Writing a diary is fine, but once he decides to print a book, Zhuang Xing will definitely try his best to spread his book as widely as possible.

He then set his sights on Cai Bei, who loved stories, and he happened to have stories to tell. Wasn't this a win-win situation, where everyone got what they wanted?

“If Brother Cai really wants to hear it, I can tell you,” Zhuang Xing said. “However, I have been cultivating on the mountain for almost ten years, and I have experienced a lot over the years. I’m afraid it’s not enough to explain it in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.”

"It's alright, it's alright," Cai Bei waved his hand.

“It’s hard to explain in detail, but Brother Cai, I actually wrote a book called ‘The Tale of Subduing Demons.’” Zhuang Xing said, “Years ago, I read some miscellaneous books and had the idea of ​​writing a book in my mind. I recorded the interesting things I had experienced and heard over the years, mostly related to demons. If you are really interested in these things, Brother Cai, I can bring you half of the book to take a look.”

"Is what Master Zhuang said true?" Cai Bei perked up, his eyes shining.

In the past, Cai Bei had only read books written by scholars, which he found interesting at first. But after reading many of them, he realized that they were all basically the same plot, nothing more than romantic encounters, such as meeting a seductive female ghost or a beautiful fox spirit.

He had long been tired of this kind of old-fashioned miscellaneous books. Later, he fell in love with brothels and enjoyed listening to storytellers in teahouses. However, he found that the storytellers used the same few tricks over and over again, which was quite boring.

More than ten years have passed, and the number of good books and novels he has collected can be counted on one hand.

Today, a true Taoist priest shared his own experience; how could he possibly miss it?

"I wouldn't dare lie," Zhuang Xing said with a smile, "but..."

"Don't worry, Master Zhuang, I'll make sure you have enough money for tea," Cai Bei said. He added that he would be willing to spend his entire savings on a good story.

“Brother Cai, that’s not what I meant,” Zhuang Xing continued. “Actually, I came to Yidu this time with the idea of ​​printing this book into a volume. I just wanted to ask you if you have any connections.”

"Why didn't you say so earlier, Master?" Cai Bei laughed and patted his chest. "I've been back home for over a year now, and I'm familiar with all the handovers. Leave the printing to me."

"Then I'll have to trouble you, Brother Cai," Zhuang Xing said.

"No problem, no problem," Cai Bei said with a happy expression.

Just then, two more coughs came from the fire pit. Cai Bei was startled and immediately sat up straight.

However, it wasn't that the old man discovered his grandson was neglecting his studies; he simply cleared his throat after reading the letter.

"You brat, go get some paper and pen!" the old man shouted.

“Here you are, Grandpa.” Cai Bei immediately stood up to serve.

"I said, write it down nicely, do you understand?" The old man glared at his grandson.

"Grandpa, please speak." Cai Bei didn't dare to be presumptuous at all.

The old gentleman then began to read aloud the letter he was writing to his old friend who lived far away on Qingxuan Mountain.

Zhuang Xing took a sip of tea. Seeing the harmonious scene between the grandfather and grandson, Xiao Moli smiled and relaxed. She warmed her hands with the delicate porcelain teacup.

The old gentleman's reply was not long, but it was different from what Zhuang Xing had expected. The old gentleman replied very formally, simply reminiscing about his youth and then telling his old friend to take good care of himself.

The letter began with this reply: "Seeing this letter is like seeing you in person. I have received your letter; it was personally delivered to my door by your apprentice. I cannot travel far, and your place is too remote for me to visit. I did not expect that you would have aged so much since our last meeting. Thinking back to when we first met on the fishing boat, we felt like old friends at first sight..."

The old gentleman's words revealed his true feelings. I didn't realize it when I was young, but I've come to realize it now that every time we meet in this life, it's one less time we'll meet.