Longevity

"Sir, are you here to offer incense or seek medical treatment...?" A young Daoist boy of only twelve or thirteen—likely an apprentice or assistant to the young Daoist priest—finished securing a woman's broken leg, hurried over to welcome him, and looked up at Qin Sang's face, only to suddenly freeze as if seeing a ghost. His eyes went wide, his face full of astonishment. Qin Sang's heart stirred. "Little Daoist, do you know me?" "Mas... Master..." The boy whipped his head around and shouted urgently toward the young Daoist priest. That shout drew every eye in Qingyang Hall over to them. Everyone looked at Qin Sang with suspicious gazes. With an innocent expression, Qin Sang spread his hands to show he was blameless and had not been bullying a child. "Why all the fuss? Have you been reciting the *Clarity and Stillness Scripture* for nothing?" The young Daoist priest was taking an elderly man's pulse; looking over displeased, he chided him. "Master... he... he is..." The boy pointed a finger at Qin Sang, flushed red with agitation and unable to string together a coherent sentence. The young Daoist priest frowned slightly, following the boy's finger to look at Qin Sang. Then his expression abruptly changed, uncertainty and shock surfacing on his face. "Old gentleman, please wait a moment..." After a brief hesitation, the young Daoist priest stood up, strode quickly before Qin Sang, cupped his hands, and asked tentatively, "This humble Daoist is Li Yufu. May I ask the young master's honorable surname?" "My surname is Qin..." Seeing their reactions, Qin Sang could guess something of the truth, so he stopped concealing anything and asked, "What is your relationship to Mingyue?" Upon hearing Qin Sang's question, shock appeared on Li Yufu's face, his voice thick with disbelief. "Daoist Mingyue was my late master. Could you be... Martial Uncle Qin?" "Late master?" Qin Sang's heart sank, his voice turning somewhat dry. "Mingyue... he has already..." Li Yufu nodded with a heavy expression. "Phoo..." Qin Sang let out a long breath, only to notice that the patients throughout the hall were watching them wide-eyed, likely wondering why the temple master of Qingyang Temple had such a young martial uncle. Qin Sang shook his head and said to Li Yufu, "Go attend to your duties first. We can catch up later." "This disciple obeys!" Li Yufu obeyed Qin Sang without question and returned to diagnosing patients, though he was visibly preoccupied. Suddenly recalling something, he asked Qin Sang, "Martial Uncle Qin, more and more people will be coming for treatment, so it might take several more hours before we finish. Why not let Jingtian show you to the rear hall to rest first?" "Very well." Qin Sang nodded and followed the young Daoist into the rear hall of Qingyang Temple. Seeing that the boy was rather constrained in his presence, he asked, "Your name is Jingtian?" The young Daoist nodded and said nervously, "Replying to Grand Martial Uncle: when Master took me in, it was nightfall in midsummer, with fireflies dancing across the sky, so he gave me the Daoist name Jingtian." Qin Sang let out an "oh" and asked again, "Where are the memorial tablets of Daoist Priest Jixin and Mingyue enshrined?" "In the Patriarch Hall..." The so-called Patriarch Hall was actually very humble, housing only three spirit tablets. Yunyouzi, Jixin, and Mingyue. The lineage of Qingyang Temple began with Yunyouzi. Since Yunyouzi had become a wandering Daoist halfway through his life and was self-taught, having had no master before him, there were only a handful of generations, leaving the lineage sparse and bare. Qin Sang sent Jingtian back to the front to help. Taking down Yunyouzi's spirit tablet, he drew out incense sticks from the side, lit one each for Jixin and Mingyue, and bowed in respect. "So both of you have gone..." Qin Sang murmured in an almost inaudible voice. Sitting cross-legged on a prayer mat in a daze, memories of days gone by surged into his mind. After arriving in this world, the time he had spent at Qingyang Temple had been his poorest, yet also his happiest. Carefree and free-spirited. Of the three "Daoists" of Qingyang Temple, he was now the only one left. Daoist Priest Jixin had possessed a mortal body of flesh and bone; had he lived until now, he would have been well over a hundred years old. Qin Sang had been mentally prepared for that, but he had never expected Mingyue to pass away so soon. Beside the three spirit tablets lay a wooden box, inside of which Qin Sang found a portrait of himself, signed by Mingyue. Unrolling the portrait, Qin Sang smiled knowingly. In the painting, his Daoist robe was rumpled and covered in dust. He held a pebble in his hand, gazing with rapt focus at a flock of birds in the sky, poised to strike as if ready at any moment to knock down a bird to satisfy his cravings. The likeness was so vivid and true to life that it was no wonder Li Yufu and his disciple had recognized him at a single glance. *** The sun crept little by little toward the zenith. Jingtian was preparing lunch and came in to ask what Qin Sang would like to eat. "Make a bowl of mixed porridge," Qin Sang said. *** Not until dusk did Li Yufu finally finish seeing all the patients. He hurried over, saying, "This junior has been neglectful. Please forgive me, Martial Uncle Qin." Qin Sang looked at him with a faint smile that was not quite a smile. "Who told you to call me Martial Uncle?" Li Yufu had not expected Qin Sang to ask this. "Ah," he gasped, "Master instructed me to." Qin Sang chuckled and shook his head. Back then, he had never formally taken Jixin as his master, and Daoist Priest Jixin had likely seen that his heart lay elsewhere, never once mentioning taking him as a disciple. His claim of being the senior brother had merely been to coax Mingyue and gain an advantage. He had not expected Mingyue to remember it all this time. "Since I am your martial uncle, why didn't you put up a spirit tablet for me?" Qin Sang asked again. Li Yufu hurriedly replied, "Master said that Martial Uncle had gone to seek immortality and would surely attain the Dao and become immortal, living forever without aging. He told me simply to remember you in my heart..." Qin Sang murmured an acknowledgment. It seemed his feigned death that night had not escaped Daoist Priest Jixin's discerning eyes after all. At that thought, he took the initiative to recount where he had gone in those years, then asked, "...Later, I came to Mount Cuiming and learned that the Daoist priest and Mingyue had already traveled far away. I even sent subordinates across various countries to search for them, but never managed to find them. Where had they been all this time? When did they return?" Li Yufu said: "After Grandmaster and Master left Mount Cuiming, they took a boat south along the river, traveling through various states and curing the sick and saving lives along the way. In the end, they only settled down once they reached the State of Chen at the end of the Wuling River. "At the time, a plague happened to be running rampant across the State of Chen. Disregarding their own safety, they dispensed medicine and treated the sick, not even hesitating to expose themselves to the plague in order to find the right remedy, saving countless lives. "Grateful for Grandmaster and Master's benevolence, the local people erected a living shrine for them, which still receives incense and offerings to this day. "I, too, am a native of the State of Chen. When I was still an infant in swaddling clothes, I lost both my parents and was taken in by Master. "When Master reached an advanced age, he longed for his homeland, so he brought me back to Mount Cuiming to revive Qingyang Temple..." Li Yufu recounted the tale smoothly, and Qin Sang listened, enthralled. No wonder he had never found Jixin and his disciple; they had gone so far away, to the State of Chen at the far reaches of the Wuling River. When Li Yufu spoke of the living shrine, his voice was filled with pride. Qin Sang also felt heartfelt admiration for the benevolent deeds and perseverance of Jixin and Mingyue. They had never once forgotten their original purpose, and the living shrine was well deserved. He could not help but wonder: as long as the sacrifices never ceased and the incense never died out, Daoist Priest Jixin and Mingyue would gradually become deities in the hearts of the local people, remembered for eternity. Was this, too, a kind of immortality?