The Words of Many

*Bang!* The words had barely left their lips when a gust of wind slammed against the wicker gate. Next door, a roving dog startled a nest of sparrows, setting off a flurry of chirping and frantic barking. The sudden commotion sent a chill down the spines of both Xu Gongming and Tian Zhongqing. They exchanged a terrified glance. Gritting his teeth, Xu Gongming whispered, "A slip of the tongue." Tian Zhongqing’s face had turned slightly pale as well. Forcing himself to stay calm, he nodded and exchanged a few polite pleasantries, though neither man had the heart to continue speaking. He personally escorted Xu Gongming out of the courtyard and watched him ride away on his horse. Only then did he stamp his foot in chagrin, cursing with regret, "Too loose a tongue, too careless with words—inviting calamity out of thin air!" Returning to his room alone, Tian Zhongqing gulped down two large mouthfuls of tea and thought to himself, *It should be fine, it must be fine. The master family has never punished anyone merely for speaking out of turn.* Next door, the dog began barking again in low growls. Rattled by the sound, Tian Zhongqing called out in a heavy voice, "Someone come here!" "Master." A managing servant hurried inside. Tian Zhongqing flicked his sleeves and commanded in a low voice, "Take that dog away and give it to a household far off. Don't let it make another racket here." "Understood." The servant answered promptly. Before long, the barking grew faint and receded into the distance, yet Tian Zhongqing’s heart remained in turmoil, as though weighed down by a heavy stone. Sitting back before the desk, he tried to gauge whether that noise had been a mere coincidence or an undercover agent sent by the master family. Sipping his tea in silence, he pondered, *If the Young Patriarch Yuanxiu were running the household, this would most likely have been the doing of an agent. But the current patriarch governs with a lenient hand, so it was probably an unintended coincidence.* Pondering back and forth, Tian Zhongqing ultimately blamed his own mouth, secretly chiding himself with regret, *Usually, when being cautious day in and day out, one doesn't think much of it, but talking with a good friend makes it so easy to slip up. It is inevitable after all... who could manage to stay cautious every moment of every day for ten years without fail?* Meanwhile, Xu Gongming rode his horse in a daze, his heart fraught with regret and guilt. Before Old Master Xu passed away, he had warned him time and again never to associate with the prominent clans, never to say too much to people of prominent surnames; yet without realizing it, he had violated every single taboo. Boundless remorse surged within him. Xu Gongming rode aimlessly in circles through the woods, unable to devise any way to remedy what he had done. "The old master has passed away, and there is no one left to give me counsel." After riding several li, he racked his memory, searching through the old master’s dying words. Finding a flat spot in the fields, he sat staring blankly as drops of rain and dew dripped down. *** Li Tongya watched for a while, taking several sips of wine in the lower seats. Seeing that he remained silent and solitary while various Purple Mansion cultivators held court above, several cultivators around him drank some spiritual wine to bolster their courage, gradually striking up conversations about heaven and earth. The atmosphere in the hall grew lively. Cultivators toasted one another, exchanged jests, and merged into a merry, boisterous clamor. Seeing that Li Tongya paid them no heed, the surrounding cultivators grew bolder and began boasting and spinning tall tales. The white-haired cultivator to Li Tongya’s left raised his cup and asked with a smile, "Which commandery does brother hail from? And upon what immortal mountain or spiritual vein do you cultivate?" The cultivator on the other side cupped his hands and replied, "Under the governance of the Xiuyue Sect in Yuebei Commandery. I cultivate in a small temple atop a hill. How could it ever be called an immortal mountain or spiritual vein? Merely a tiny mound." "Fellow Daoist is too modest." The white-haired old cultivator chuckled, a hint of envy in his eyes, and sighed, "I have lived a few more years than you and know a fair bit about the State of Yue. Within Yue, life is by far the most comfortable under the rule of the Xiuyue Immortal Sect. Fellow Daoist is truly blessed; you must live the carefree life of an immortal, roaming like an unmoored cloud and a wild crane." "Ha!" The young cultivator gave a bitter smile and shook his head repeatedly. Taking a sip of wine, he said in a low voice, "What immortal life is there to speak of! The mortal world is nothing but pointless commotion, and the squabbling over petty gains between Daoist abbeys and small temples drains both body and soul. What's more, Yuebei Commandery borders the State of Xu, where Buddhists appear from time to time, shepherding the common folk north. It’s nowhere near as easy as you say... Don't mortals always envy cultivators for soaring through the skies, thinking that becoming an immortal frees one from all care? Yet those of us inside it know all too well what it truly tastes like!" The white-haired old cultivator chuckled and nodded with considerable agreement, yet he held a different view. He spoke up once more, "You take it too lightly. The struggles under the Xiuyue Sect are nothing more than vying for power and profit. If you lose, you pack up your lineage and scurry off; unless it escalates to a life-and-death struggle, who would take your life? Turn your head and look at the other sects." He paused slightly, his voice dropping much lower. "I won't even mention the Qingchi Immortal Sect—just look at the Tangjin Gate. How many clans and Daoist abbeys do they wipe out every year?" The young cultivator nodded gently and replied, "Never mind the State of Yue—are the State of Wu and the State of Xu not the exact same? Without a Purple Mansion cultivator to stand guard, one is nothing more than a plaything and a tool, slaughtered at someone else's whim. But the moment a Purple Mansion cultivator emerges in a sect overnight, everyone rushes to offer congratulations, and only then do they finally treat your disciples like human beings!" Having lived through much, the white-haired old cultivator felt a deep resonance with those words. This young cultivator was surprisingly experienced as well. Their exchange made even Li Tongya nod slightly. Having said their piece, both men realized that the present occasion was not the place to dwell on such topics, and they quickly changed the subject. "You mentioned that Buddhists often appear in Yuebei Commandery?" Changing the subject, the old cultivator asked with genuine surprise, "When I was young, I traveled to the State of Xu, and even in its northernmost reaches, there was hardly a Buddhist to be seen. How has it come to this?" "Alas!" The young cultivator sighed deeply, an indignant edge in his tone. "The spiritual veins in the State of Xu are shallow, its national strength frail, and its territory tiny. It has neither grand sects nor famous mountains—only a handful of sects stationed there to defend it. How could they possibly hold the line? According to my master at the temple, a century ago those people were nowhere to be found; they only began multiplying in the past fifty years." The old cultivator fell silent for a moment before asking, "Those Purple Mansion True Persons, those Golden Core exalted immortals... could they really just sit by and watch the State of Xu fall like this?" The young cultivator faltered slightly, then whispered, "There were clashes... Great powers from the Buddhist sect took action as well—figures of Lianmin, of Mohe. I heard that their battles forced the beasts and birds across seven entire mountains to turn vegetarian, starving hordes of vicious beasts and birds of prey to death. All sorts of rumors like that make one's hair stand on end." The old cultivator sighed repeatedly, a reminiscent look taking over his face. He said in a low voice, "This old man once met a Buddhist cultivator as well. He was a master who had attained clear sight of mind and nature, a man of great wisdom. I once thought of converting, but the master insisted on striking me with his zen staff. It hurt far too much, so I had no choice but to give up." At these words, everyone around wore a bizarre expression, wanting to laugh but feeling too embarrassed to make a sound. Only the young cultivator burst into laughter and replied, "Senior, we cultivate for this life, while their sect cultivates for the next. The two conflict. Your enlightenment was simply lacking, so naturally it hurt." The old cultivator didn't take offense, and soon the surrounding cultivators chuckled softly, the atmosphere growing far more cordial. Li Tongya listened with keen interest. His clan had risen too quickly and had a shallow foundation, so he knew little of such matters. Thus, he kept silent and listened attentively, feeling his horizons broaden. Then he heard the old cultivator say: "There are many paths in this world after all. Cultivating the Purple Mansion and Golden Core is fine, and cultivating the Maha Dharma Aspects is fine as well. There are also heterodox scriptures and curses that harm both oneself and the foe, and the mysterious Different Mansions, Same Furnace of which no trace can be found. Whichever path proves passable, that is the path to take!" These words caused a stir like a boulder dropped into calm waters. The cultivators around them began voicing their thoughts in a flurry, some approving, others sneering in disdain. "Fellow Daoist is mistaken. If one loses one's true nature in cultivation and becomes something other than oneself, what meaning is left?" "Different Mansions, Same Furnace is the way of demonic cultivation! Fellow Daoist, your words go too far..." With the clamor and disputes breaking out, Li Tongya furrowed his brows slightly. His interest dampened, he had no choice but to drink alone. Just then, a middle-aged man draped in beast skins stepped forward from ahead and asked with a smile: "Senior is drinking alone—might there be something weighing on your mind?"