fantasy novels Chapter 18 This is a minor Confucian and Taoist technique; a stroke of the pen can create an army.
Chapter 18 This is a minor Confucian and Taoist technique; a stroke of the pen can create an army.
The Chen residence is located in a quiet alley in the county town. The lintel is not high, and the walls are covered with green tiles and white walls. It is completely different from the solemnity of the Panshi Martial Arts Hall and exudes an elegant charm that has been washed away from the glitz and glamour.
Zhang Yuan knocked on the door knocker, and after a moment, the door creaked open.
The person who opened the door was a girl, about fourteen or fifteen years old.
She wore an elegant pale yellow ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), with a slightly worn moon-white vest over it. Her jet-black hair was tied up with a simple wooden hairpin, with a few strands of hair hanging down beside her smooth forehead.
Her face was delicate and beautiful, with a scholarly and serene air about her. When she saw Zhang Yuan, a warm smile immediately appeared in her eyes, and the corners of her mouth curved into a gentle arc.
"Is that Brother Qingyang? Please come in." The girl's voice was clear and melodious, with a natural warmth. "Father specifically instructed me before leaving this morning that today is a day off, and Brother Qingyang will be coming to Xiuwen. He told me to treat him well."
"My name is Chen Yurong, you can just call me Sister Yurong." She stepped aside, her movements natural and graceful.
Zhang Yuan bowed respectfully, saying, "Sister Yu Rong."
Follow her into the courtyard.
The courtyard was indeed simple and austere, yet it was kept exceptionally clean.
Several clumps of green bamboo stood against the wall, rustling in the morning breeze. In the corner of the wall was an ancient well, its rim covered with moss.
Several pots of common orchids were placed under the eaves, emitting a delicate fragrance.
The main hall was simply furnished, with tables and chairs made of ordinary wood, yet polished to a shine. On the wall hung a powerful calligraphy of the character "静" (quiet), its ink deep and somber, subtly exuding an air of dignified integrity that could not be profaned.
"Father still has some official business at the county office and will be back shortly," Chen Yurong said softly as she led Zhang Yuan toward the study. "It's just my father and me at home. My mother... passed away when I was young."
"My father was a man of high aspirations, disliked flattery, and had no patience for worldly affairs. He lived off his salary and the occasional fee for writing inscriptions and letters for others. He spent most of his salary on books. Life was a bit hard, but it was peaceful."
Her tone was calm, without resentment, but rather with a sense of contentment with a simple life.
The study was small, with bookshelves lining all four walls, crammed full of books, and the air was filled with the faint scent of ink and old books.
The desk was spotless, with the writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone neatly arranged.
Zhang Yuan's gaze swept across the bookshelf, and he casually picked up a slightly old-fashioned copy of "The Gazetteer of Mountains and Rivers" to read.
The moment his fingertips touched the yellowed pages—
【Ding! 】
[Detected a classic text containing the true essence of Confucianism and Taoism: "A Study of the Customs and Geography of the Great Yu Dynasty - Secret Scroll of Mountains and Rivers" (Superior Mortal Grade)]
[Consumes 30 years of lifespan; can comprehend the basic Confucian art of "Mountain and River Vein Sensing" contained within.]
[Redeem or not?]
Zhang Yuan's heart skipped a beat, and his fingers instinctively retracted, almost dropping the book on the ground.
Thirty years?!
He clicked his tongue in amazement; the price of "exchanging" these Confucian and Taoist classics was even more terrifying than the Rock-Splitting Mountain Blade!
He quickly and carefully put the book back in its original place, gaining a deeper understanding of the "foundation" required for Confucian and Taoist cultivation.
This is not merely about reading to understand principles, but also about sacrificing one's mind, spirit, and lifespan to communicate with, comprehend, and even master some mysterious rules of the universe.
Before long, footsteps came from outside the door, and Chen Wenyuan walked in, wearing a faded blue robe and carrying the fresh scent of morning dew.
His face was thin, but his eyes remained deep.
"Student Zhang Qingyang greets teacher." Zhang Yuan immediately bowed and presented the prepared gift of money and cured meat.
Chen Wenyuan's gaze swept over the package, lingering briefly on the five taels of silver ingot wrapped in red paper. He nodded slightly, then reached out and accepted it, saying frankly, "According to etiquette, I shouldn't accept this gift from you. However..."
He paused for a moment, his tone calm yet tinged with a barely perceptible helplessness, "Yu Rong is getting older, and marriage is just around the corner. My poor family needs to save up a decent dowry for her so that she won't suffer too much in her husband's family in the future. I'll shamelessly accept this money."
Zhang Yuan quickly replied, "Teacher, you have worked hard to raise and teach Sister Yu Rong. This is my duty as a student, and I hope you will not refuse."
Chen Wenyuan nodded, said no more, and gestured for Zhang Yuan to sit down.
He walked behind the desk, spread out a sheet of plain white Xuan paper, picked up an ordinary sheep-hair brush, but did not dip it in ink.
"Qingyang, now that you have embarked on the path of martial arts, you must also understand the general trend of the world in order to know your own position."
Chen Wenyuan's voice became serious.
"In the present world, there is a tripartite balance of power: Dayu, Nanzhao, and Beiqi. However, this tripartite division is merely a facade."
"Our Great Yu has twenty-one prefectures. The emperor's majesty is difficult to extend beyond the capital. Many prefects hold military power and are self-reliant. Although we are nominally a unified entity, we are in reality a separatist regime."
"The Southern Zhao Embroidered Uniform Guard is as dense as a net, monitoring all officials and penetrating every nook and cranny; the Northern Qi Sword Pavilion is sharp and aggressive, gathering sword cultivators from all over the world, and its power is overwhelming."
"In between, there were thirteen prefectures in Jiangzuo, a melting pot of all sorts of people, with numerous warlords rising up and disregarding the law."
Chen Wenyuan had told Zhang Yuan about these things before, but bringing them up again now evoked different feelings.
Zhang Yuan sat up straight, his expression solemn.
Chen Wenyuan coughed lightly and said, "The affairs of the world are too far removed from us. Since you have come to study literature, then cultivate literature."
As soon as he finished speaking, he flicked his wrist, and the unpainted brush tip sketched on the rice paper out of thin air!
A sharp ink mark appeared out of thin air and instantly transformed into a "兵" (soldier) character with strong, bold strokes!
The character "兵" hovered about a foot above the paper, then suddenly trembled and materialized into a blurry image of a soldier holding a long spear and wearing illusory armor. Though indistinct, it exuded a chilling aura of killing intent!
The temperature in the study seemed to drop a few degrees.
"This is a minor technique of Confucianism and Taoism, where a stroke of the pen can transform into an army." Chen Wenyuan said calmly, "Borrowing a trace of the killing intent of war between heaven and earth and the righteous spirit in my heart, I can condense it into form and manifest it."
With another stroke of his pen, he wrote the character "散" (san, meaning scattered), and the illusory image of the soldier vanished like smoke, restoring tranquility to the study.
Zhang Yuan was deeply shaken. This was no illusion; it was a genuine manipulation of some kind of power of heaven and earth!
He recalled Zheng Chaoyang's description of the power of a Dongxuan Realm expert and felt that although the Confucian and Taoist methods were expressed in different ways, their essence of drawing upon the power of heaven and earth seemed to be the same.
Chen Wenyuan continued, "Confucian and Taoist cultivation upholds the Way of Heaven and cultivates a righteous spirit within one's heart. When this righteous spirit is abundant, one's words become law, one's lips can be a spear, and one's tongue can be a sword, to vanquish evil and stabilize people's hearts."
"Every stroke of the pen can resonate with the laws of heaven and earth. Like a seventh-rank county magistrate, who is favored by the imperial court and the local people, with his official seal in hand, his words carry the weight of law and are enough to suppress ordinary martial arts masters!"
"This is the authority bestowed upon the rulers of the world by Heaven, which is incomparable to mere power."
With just a few words, he unveiled a corner of the mysterious veil of Confucianism and Taoism for Zhang Yuan.
This is a different kind of martial arts from the practice of tempering oneself and mastering great power. It focuses more on communicating with, conforming to, and even acting on behalf of the rules of heaven and earth, and is based on "reason" and "power".
After explaining the concepts, Chen Wenyuan began to teach Zhang Yuan.
He first had Zhang Yuan practice calligraphy, starting with the most basic stroke structure.
Although Zhang Yuan was still small and lacked wrist strength, the combination of his writing habits from his previous life and his calm and focused mind at this moment made his writing exceptionally steady.
The strokes are already showing signs of proper form, far surpassing the crookedness of ordinary children learning to write.
Chen Wenyuan watched from the side, a barely perceptible hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.
But he remained serious, only occasionally offering guidance: "This vertical stroke should be powerful, like a pine tree standing tall; this downward stroke should be clean and crisp, like a knife being drawn from its sheath."
This was followed by reciting the Thousand Character Classic.
Zhang Yuanqing's clear, childlike voice rang out in the study. He didn't read fast, but his pronunciation was clear and his punctuation was accurate.
Upon reading "Heaven and earth were dark and yellow, the universe was vast and boundless," he recalled Zheng Chaoyang's description of the myriad worlds and couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He softly replied, "...But dynasties are like stars, imperial dynasties are like the moon, imperial courts are like the sun, and divine kingdoms are like the eternal source of the Great Dao?"
Upon hearing this, Chen Wenyuan's fingers, which were stroking his beard, suddenly stopped!
He suddenly looked up, his gaze shooting towards Zhang Yuan like lightning, as if he were truly getting to know this disciple for the first time.
Although these words are simple, they connect a grand vision with the opening of elementary education, and subtly touch upon some kind of fundamental understanding, which is by no means something that an eight-year-old child could say casually!
He suppressed the turmoil in his heart, regained his composure, and nodded reservedly, saying, "Hmm, being able to move from literature to reason and glimpse the essence of things shows some comprehension."
"However, the greatest truths are both simple and complex. One should not aim too high, but rather start by taking solid steps."
Even so, the joy and importance deep in his eyes could no longer be concealed.
"Father, Qingyang, lunch is ready." Chen Yurong's voice rang out from outside the door at just the right moment, with a gentle smile.
She had clearly been standing outside the door for a moment, and having heard her father's rare comment, her gaze towards Zhang Yuan held even greater appreciation and affection.