Shengui Changsheng: Start from Zhenwuwei and add some points to cultivate immortality

The spring wind carried a chill, yet it caused the *Gnaphalium affine* in the Guixintang herb garden to unfurl its last new leaf.

Li Nian'an held up a small twig and counted the leaves stroke by stroke: "One, two, three... ten! Exactly ten leaves!" He jumped up excitedly, the twig flying from his hand, "Little Tiger! Grandma Su! We can go to the Star Sword Sect now!"

Su Qingwan was changing Wangshu's diaper when she heard this and nodded with a smile: "We'll set off after we've packed Wangshu's little clothes." Wangshu is already six months old, and her eyebrows and eyes have grown a bit. Her eyes look just like Aying's, and when she's quiet, she always likes to stare at people, as if she can understand their thoughts.

As the first wisp of osmanthus fragrance wafted through the window of Guixin Hall, Su Qingwan was teaching the children the "Illustrated Compendium of Herbs".

Yellowed pages lay open on the table, covered with hand-drawn illustrations of herbs by Aying, with their medicinal properties labeled in small print beside them. The children sat in a circle, the youngest of them all, with his hair in a topknot, was Li Gou Dan's grandson, named Li Nian'an, who always stared with his bright black eyes, asking how far the fluff of a dandelion could fly.

"They can fly as far as the Star Sword Sect," Su Qingwan said with a smile, her fingertips brushing against the dandelions on the pages of the book. "When the wind picks up, they will ride the wind to find new soil to take root and sprout."

Li Nian'an nodded as if she understood, but her little hand secretly grabbed a corner of the book page—this child had loved books since she was a child, and even when she slept, she would hold Aying's herbal notes, saying that she could smell the fragrance of the Soul-Gathering Flower.

The sound of horses' hooves came from outside the door, and A-Ying returned carrying a medicine basket. He was now a well-known doctor in Qing Shi Town, and his medicine basket was always filled with freshly picked herbs. He also had a cloth bag hanging from his waist, which contained snacks that Miss Wang had made for the children.

"Sister Su, look what I picked!" He took out a few golden osmanthus flowers from the medicine basket, the petals still covered with morning dew. "The osmanthus flowers on the back mountain are blooming. Miss Wang said we can make osmanthus wine to warm up Brother Hu."

Speaking of Wang Xiaohu, he was currently in the backyard of Guixintang, chopping wood with Li Gou Dan. The freshly felled pine wood carried a fresh fragrance, and the sound of the axe falling was steady and powerful, startling the swallows under the eaves into fluttering flight.

"Brother Xiaohu, I'm planning to make a lot more cured pork this year," Li Gou Dan said loudly, swinging his axe. "Nian'an loves the smoky flavor you taught me to make last time, saying it's better than the ones from the shops in town!"

Wang Xiaohu replied with a smile, "Okay, after we finish chopping the firewood, I'll teach you how to smoke it with cypress branches; it'll make the flavor even more authentic."

The afternoon sun filtered through the osmanthus trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Su Qingwan and Miss Wang sat under the eaves picking osmanthus blossoms; the petals in the sieve gradually piled up into a small mountain, filling the courtyard with a sweet fragrance. Meanwhile, Aying was watering the Wanggui Grass in the herb garden. This grass had taken root in Guixin Hall, its leaves always pointing towards the Xingchen Sword Sect, as if it were remembering something.

“Brother Ying, look, the grass has sprouted new leaves!” Li Nian’an ran over holding a tender green leaf, her little face covered in dirt. “Aunt Su said that every time a leaf grows, it means we’re thinking of the Star Sword Sect.”

Aying took the leaf and gently stroked its veins with her fingertips: "When it grows ten leaves, we'll go back and take a look."

Li Nian'an immediately started counting the leaves, pointing at them with her little finger and muttering, "One, two, three... seven leaves still to go!"

Everyone laughed. Life at Guixintang was like the slowly growing grass of longing for home, unhurried yet unexpectedly, it grew branches full of yearning.

Guixin Hall was exceptionally lively at the first market day after autumn. Shi Yong brought freshly hunted wild game with the villagers, saying it was to nourish the children; three teenagers from Baiyao Valley arrived carrying medicine baskets, bringing newly harvested Ganoderma lucidum, and said that Aman asked them to pass on a message to Su Qingwan that the seeds of the Soul-Gathering Flower were ready and would be delivered in the spring; even the long-absent Taoist Master Xuanjizi came, carrying a cloth bag, saying he brought the children "Wisdom Fruit" from Wanshou Mountain.

“Eating this fruit will make you smarter,” Xuanjizi said, patting Li Nian’an’s head and laughing so hard his mustache stood up. “You should study hard to recognize herbs, and you’ll be even more capable than your brother A-Ying in the future.”

Holding the Wisdom Fruit, Li Nian'an's face flushed red as she nodded vigorously, "I will! I also want to learn Little Tiger's swordsmanship to protect Guixin Hall!"

Wang Xiaohu was gilding the plaque of Guixin Hall when he heard this. He turned around and smiled: "You can learn swordsmanship, but first you have to memorize the 'Compendium of Herbs' and know which herbs can stop bleeding and which herbs can detoxify. That's the fundamental thing."

After the market closed, Xuanjizi stayed at Guixin Hall for tea. Looking at the children playing in the courtyard, he suddenly said to Wang Xiaohu, "Look at this Guixin Hall, it's just like a small martial arts world. There are doctors, martial artists, farmers, and children, it's lively and bustling, much better than the desolation of Wanshou Mountain."

Wang Xiaohu poured him more tea, the aroma of osmanthus wafting through the air: "This is how the martial world should be. It's not about fighting and killing, but about having people who cook, care for the sick, teach children, and wait for their families to return."

Xuanjizi stroked his beard and nodded repeatedly: "Well said! This is probably the principle behind the saying 'the great way is simple'."

At night, the aroma of osmanthus wine wafted from the kitchen. Miss Wang and Su Qingwan were brewing wine together, while Aying helped add firewood. The firelight illuminated their smiling faces, creating a warm and picturesque scene. Li Gou Dan held Li Nian An in his arms, sitting in the courtyard listening to Wang Xiaohu tell stories of the Starry Sky Sword Sect. He said that when the ginkgo leaves there turned yellow, they looked like a golden carpet, and that the divine swords on the Sword Tomb would sing under the moonlight.

"Yay, why can the divine sword sing?" Li Nian'an rubbed her sleepy eyes and leaned her little head against Li Gou Dan's chest.

“It’s because it’s happy,” Wang Xiaohu said with a smile. “It’s singing happily because it sees that we’re doing well.”

Li Nian'an gave a half-understanding "Oh," her eyelids growing heavier as she murmured, "When the Hope-Returning Grass grows ten leaves, I want to go see the Divine Sword sing..."

Moonlight filtered through the osmanthus tree, falling on his sleeping face like a thin veil. Wang Xiaohu gazed at the starry sky and suddenly realized that the most moving legend in the world was never the grandeur of the Seven Swords uniting, but rather such a gentle, flowing night—with the fragrance of osmanthus wine, the dreams of children, the laughter of those around him, and that steady happiness hidden in the years.

The leaves of the *Wangguicao* (a type of herb) continue to grow, one by one, and the story of Guixintang (a hall of returning hearts) continues to unfold day by day. Perhaps one day, Li Nian'an will carry a medicine basket, just like A Ying did back then, to visit the Xingchen Sword Sect; perhaps A Ying will hand over Guixintang to a new generation of young people, taking Miss Wang on a journey through the martial world; perhaps Wang Xiaohu and Su Qingwan will return to the Xingchen Sword Sect on a fragrant osmanthus morning, tending the herb garden of Puhuitang, watching the Ninghunhua (a type of herb) bloom and fade year after year.

But wherever they go, they always carry a place called Guixintang in their hearts—a place where the sound of chopping wood echoes, the aroma of brewing medicine wafts, children laugh, and the direction that the grass of longing for home always points. Just like now, the osmanthus wine slowly ferments in the jar, the lights of Guixintang flicker in the night, and in everyone's dreams, the sweet fragrance of osmanthus wafts, along with that unfinished sentence:
"We'll go home when the grass that looks back to the sky grows ten leaves."

Home is never just a specific place; it's every moment we share, every moment we can truly relax, and an endless story of warmth and connection. The snow at the beginning of the twelfth lunar month fell silently, covering the green tiles of Guixin Hall completely, like a thick layer of icing sugar.

Su Qingwan was sewing new cotton shoes for Li Nian'an. The uppers were made of blue cloth dyed by Shi Yong's wife, embroidered with a small, soul-gathering flower. The stitches were fine and dense; it took her two nights to finish embroidering them. Li Nian'an leaned over to watch, clutching a piece of frozen malt candy in her hand, and mumbled, "Grandma Su, will the flower on the shoes smell as sweet as the one in the herb garden?"

"Once you put it on, it'll smell wonderful when you run around," Su Qingwan teased with a smile, her fingertips brushing against his nose, which was red from the cold. "Hurry up and eat the candy, or it'll melt in your hands."

This child is eight years old this year, and has grown quite a bit taller. His features resemble Li Gou Dan's, but he is more reserved. He always loves to follow A Ying around the herb garden, and his ability to identify herbs is much better than that of other children his age. A Ying often says that this child was born to be a doctor.

A creak came from outside the door, and Wang Xiaohu pushed it open, bringing with him a chill, but carrying a red cloth bundle in his hands. "Look who's here!" he said with a smile, handing over the bundle. A round head peeked out from inside—it was a baby just over a month old, wrapped in thick swaddling clothes, staring at Su Qingwan with its bright, dark eyes.

“This is…” Su Qingwan put down her needle and thread in surprise.

"Aying's baby." Wang Xiaohu rubbed his frozen hands, his tone tinged with amusement. "Miss Wang gave birth yesterday. It's a girl, and Aying said she wants you to name her."

Just then, A-Ying lifted the curtain and came in, still covered in snow, but her face couldn't hide her joy. "Sister Su, please give me a name," he said, rubbing his hands together, a little embarrassed. "Miss Wang said the name you chose is beautiful."

Su Qingwan held the baby, whose hands were clenched tightly, like tiny fists. She looked at the snowflakes falling outside the window, then at the direction of the Returning Grass in the herb garden—the grass had grown lush and thick, its leaves still pointing towards the Star Sword Sect in the wind and snow, like a steadfast guardian.

“Let’s call her ‘Wangshu’,” Su Qingwan said softly. “Wang is the ‘Wang’ in ‘Wang Gui Cao’ (meaning ‘looking for the grass to return home’), and Shu is the ‘Shu’ in ‘Shu Zhan’ (meaning ‘to stretch out’). May she be like the grass that looks for the grass to return home, always having a place she cares about in her heart, and like spring grass, able to stretch out and grow anywhere.”

"Wangshu, Aying Wangshu." Aying repeated it twice, her eyes lighting up. "Great name! Let's call her Wangshu!"

Li Nian'an also came over to look, carefully touched Wang Shu's little hand, and whispered, "Little sister, when you grow up, I will teach you to recognize medicines."

The baby seemed to understand, its little mouth moved and it made a "cooing" sound, which made everyone laugh.

The snow was falling heavily when Li Gou Dan arrived carrying a sack of new rice, saying it was for Miss Wang to nourish her body. He now had a full head of white hair and a slightly hunched back, but he still loved to joke: "Brother Xiao Hu, look at this girl A Ying, her eyes are exactly like yours back then, maybe she's your long-lost granddaughter!"

Wang Xiaohu laughed and punched him lightly: "You're such a chatterbox." Despite his words, he couldn't hide the smile in his eyes—time waits for no one, and his partners who had ventured out together back then were now surrounded by children and grandchildren. It felt like a lifetime had passed.

As evening fell, the fire in Guixin Hall burned brightly, and the old hen that Aying had brought was stewing in the pot. The aroma, mingled with the scent of herbs wafting from the herb garden, filled the room. Wang Xiaohu wrote a letter to Daoist Xuanjizi, saying that Aying had given birth to a baby girl named Wangshu, and invited him to come for her full-month celebration after spring. Xuanjizi, who now had several young Daoist disciples on Wanshou Mountain, rarely came down the mountain, but he always sent them some elixirs to strengthen their bodies, saying they were for the children.

“Oh, right,” Su Qingwan suddenly remembered something, “a few days ago, a disciple from the Star Sword Sect wrote to us saying that the medicine garden in Puhui Hall needs to be turned over, and asked if we wanted to go back and take a look.”

Wang Xiaohu put down his pen and looked out at the snow: "Let's wait until after the New Year. Wangshu is still young and can't take any more stress. Besides, Nian'an is still hoping that Wanggui Grass will grow ten leaves."

Li Nian'an immediately puffed out her little chest: "I've already counted to nine petals! When the tenth petal grows, we'll go to the Star Sword Sect to see the ginkgo trees and the divine sword!"

Everyone laughed. The crackling fire made everyone's faces glow red, and even the baby Wangshu woke up, its little eyes darting around as if watching the lively scene.

On New Year's Eve, the bonfire at Guixintang was lit again. Li Gou Dan's cured meat stewed in a big pot, A Ying's newly brewed osmanthus wine was opened, and the children sang the songs taught by Su Qingwan around the bonfire, their voices as clear and crisp as ice crystals colliding.

Wang Xiaohu held Wang Shu in his arms, while Su Qingwan sat beside him, knitting a small sweater for Wang Shu. A Ying and Miss Wang distributed candy to everyone, while Li Nian'an led several children in building a snowman in the snow, using a carrot for the snowman's nose, her smile as bright as a blooming flower.

“Look,” Su Qingwan said softly, “the people who were in the Star Sword Sect back then are all here now.”

Wang Xiaohu nodded. The wind and snow of the far north, the giant waves of the East China Sea, the shadows of Black Sand City… those obstacles that he once thought were insurmountable have now transformed into the warmth of a fireplace, the sweetness of wine, and the laughter of children. He suddenly understood that the so-called sequel is never about lengthening the story, but about making every ordinary moment a chapter worth remembering.

The blazing fire of the year grew ever brighter, illuminating everyone's smiling faces and guiding the direction of the Hope-Returning Grass. Wang Xiaohu knew that after spring arrived, the Hope-Returning Grass would grow its tenth leaf, and they would take Wang Shu and Nian An back to the Starry Sky Sword Sect to see the Soul-Gathering Flower in the Puhui Hall, touch the Demon-Suppressing Sword on the Sword Tomb, and tell the plants and divine sword there:
We're back, with new stories and a bond that will never fade.

And this story will spread like the roots of the grass that longs for home, in the soil; spread like the seeds of the flower that condenses the soul, in the wind; and burn like the lights of the Hall of Returning Hearts, burning brightly through the years, continuing to be written year after year, until long, long afterward, people will still remember that there was once a group of people who turned the world of martial arts into their daily lives, and their daily lives into legends.

The snow continued to fall, landing on the bonfire and sizzling softly, like a gentle accompaniment to this unfinished story. (End of Chapter)