Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Chapter 265 Encountering a Taoist Priest in the Mountains

Lin Yan entered a meditative state and lost track of time within the space. When he opened his eyes again, more than a month had passed.

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, feeling the true essence in his dantian replenishing itself, and felt a pang of unease. Since he began cultivating, he could count the number of times he had used his true essence on two fingers.

It's funny, really. He kept it so secret for two reasons: first, to avoid unnecessary trouble; and second, because he felt there was no one or nothing worth using his cultivation level for—magic has never been the best solution for him.

But during this month of sitting idly, that night kept replaying in my mind: the cracked riverbed, the despair in the villager's cloudy eyes, and the earthy smell of rainwater rising from the yellow earth...

He looked down at his palm and suddenly smiled.

It turns out that this cultivation level wasn't meant to be superior to anyone, nor was it meant to prove anything. It was like a key, meant to be used when necessary to open a window for the ordinary people struggling to survive on this land, letting in a ray of light and timely rain.

When Lin Yan stepped out of the space, only a little over an hour had passed in the outside world.

He ascended to the clouds on his sword, looked down at the land beneath his feet, and felt his heart sink.

The July sun shone brightly, yet there was not a trace of life to be seen on this Loess Plateau. The barren, gully-lined slopes were swept by gusts of wind that whipped up clouds of yellow sand. Occasionally, a few crooked trees could be seen, all drooping and withered, their leaves yellow and dry.

This land is so vast, it stretches as far as the eye can see. Yet, it cannot sustain the people who live here.

Lin Yan recalled the villagers he had seen by the river. Their backs were bent by the weight of time, their hands were rough like old tree bark, and they toiled in the fields all year round, yet they could hardly find a full meal.

"Heaven rewards diligence..." He looked up at the sky, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "What a huge joke."

If Heaven truly rewards diligence, then these most hardworking people should be the wealthiest in the world.

Lin Yan took one last look at the parched land beneath his feet and sighed softly.

His cultivation was still too shallow. This rain could at most give the crops a few days' rest, but it couldn't change the barren fate of this land. He rubbed his throbbing temples, the emptiness in his dantian reminding him of the limits of his abilities.

"Let's wait until later..." he muttered to himself. "When my cultivation is deeper, I'll be able to find a better way."

This thought, like a seed, quietly fell into my heart.

He turned around, and the mountains and rivers beneath his feet receded into the distance, gradually revealing the outline of the Qin Plain stretching for eight hundred miles. "Star" flew towards Xi'an.

Lin Yan found a shady alley at the south end of Xi'an and landed. He reached out and peeled off the invisibility talisman on his body. The talisman turned into a wisp of green smoke at his fingertips and dissipated.

Walking onto the street, the July sun was scorching. He squinted as he surveyed the ancient city—the city walls were gray, the buildings were gray, and even the clothes of most pedestrians were gray and blue. In the distance, factory chimneys billowed black smoke, and the air smelled of coal ash. This scene was completely different from the brightly lit, ever-sleeping Tang Dynasty city he remembered.

Turning into a state-run restaurant, the storefront was small, with seven or eight square tables inside.

He glanced at the "Today's Menu" on the small blackboard: "A bowl of wontons." He handed over two cents and two ounces of grain coupons.

The old man behind the counter didn't even look up, tore off a receipt and threw it over: "Find a seat yourself."

A short while later, a girl with braided pigtails brought over a large bowl. A dozen or so wontons floated in the clear broth, with a few specks of oil on top. Lin Yan took a bite, finding the taste rather bland, and then waved to the girl who was about to leave: "Comrade, may I ask you something?"

The girl turned around: "Comrade, would you like anything else?"

Lin Yan took out his wallet, pulled out a yuan coin, and pushed it over: "I wanted to ask you, what are some places worth visiting inside and outside Xi'an?" He smiled, "This is my first time here."

The girl paused for a moment, then quickly pushed the money back, her face slightly flushed: "This won't do! Are you here on a business trip, comrade?" She pointed towards the door, "The Big Wild Goose Pagoda, the Small Wild Goose Pagoda, the Bell and Drum Towers, the city wall—these places are easy to find; just ask for directions."

She leaned closer, her voice low: "If I have some free time, I could also visit Zhongnan Mountain..." She winked mysteriously, "I've heard there are some places in the mountains where you can burn incense!"

Without waiting for Lin Yan's response, she tossed her braid behind her head, turned around, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Zhongnan Mountain? Suddenly, he felt that his trip to Xi'an was worthwhile. He picked up the bowl, took a big gulp of soup, and smiled.

After leaving the state-run hotel, Lin Yan showed no interest whatsoever in places like the Big Wild Goose Pagoda and the Drum Tower. He inquired along the way and headed straight for Zhongnan Mountain in the south of the city.

When he arrived at the foot of the mountain that the passerby had pointed out, he was stunned—there was no "lush Zhongnan Mountain" in front of him, but only a few bare mountain ridges, with yellowish-white rocks exposed under the scorching sun. Not to mention towering ancient trees, even decent shrubs were hard to find.

Undeterred, he climbed up the dirt path worn into the ground. The higher he went, the colder his heart grew—the trees of this entire outer mountain range had been so thoroughly cut down, leaving only withered branches and stumps scattered on the ground.

"Looks like it was a wasted trip." He sighed, but was unwilling to give up. Finding a secluded spot, he activated the invisibility talisman again, took to the air on his sword, and sped towards the depths of the mountains.

As he flew deeper into the mountains, the scenery gradually changed. After crossing several treacherous mountain ridges, a dense primeval forest began to come into view. Towering ancient trees blocked out the sun, and the air was filled with the fragrance of grass and trees, a stark contrast to the desolate landscape outside.

He slowed down and searched carefully among the peaks. About an incense stick later, just as he was about to turn around, he suddenly caught sight of an inconspicuous thatched hut on a secluded mountainside below.

Lin Yan landed quietly on the path below, carefully scanning his surroundings with his divine sense. After confirming that no one was around, he withdrew his concealment. Neatly cultivated vegetable plots stood in front of the house, a few herbs swayed gently in the wind, and the pile of firewood in the corner of the yard was stacked meticulously.

"Is anyone home?" He raised his hand and gently knocked on the slightly ajar wooden door. His voice carried clearly through the valley. "Excuse me, is anyone home?"

The door creaked open a crack.

A thin man, about thirty years old, with a gaunt face, stood behind the door, wearing a faded blue Taoist robe.

Lin Yan quickly greeted him, "Comrade, hello. I'm a tourist from out of town. I heard there's a Taoist temple on the mountain, so I came here specifically to offer incense. I'm just passing by; could you please give me directions?"

He held one palm upright and bowed slightly.

"If you're looking for a thriving Taoist temple, you've come to the wrong place," he said calmly. "My surname is Zhang, and my Taoist name is Mi Jingzi. I've built this hut here for quiet cultivation. In this depths of Zhongnan Mountain, I'm now the only wandering Taoist left."

He quickly returned the greeting: "So it's Master Zhang. My surname is Lin, I apologize for disturbing you." He looked around, "I just didn't expect this sacred place of Zhongnan to be so... deserted now."

Master Zhang smiled slightly and stepped aside, saying, "A mountain is not famous for its height, but for the immortals who dwell there. Since you are fortunate enough to be here, please come in and have a cup of mountain tea."

The thatched hut was simply furnished, yet spotless. In the center stood an image of Laozi, with three sticks of incense rising gently from the incense burner.

"How long have you been cultivating here, Daoist Master?" Lin Yan asked, sitting down on a futon.

"Time flies in the mountains," Zhang Zhishun said, handing over a bowl of tea. "The seasons change, and I haven't really counted them. I only know that spring planting and autumn harvest, the morning bell and evening drum—that's how the days have passed."

The tea is wild tea from the mountains; it has a slightly bitter taste upon first sip, but a sweet aftertaste.