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

“Yes,” Wang Shu said. “I scattered its seeds all over the medicinal garden of Guixintang, and it blooms beautifully every year. Azhu also said that she would take the seeds to more distant places so that there would be Soul-Gathering Flowers everywhere.”

Su Qingwan's gaze turned to the sword tomb. The seven illusory figures on the Demon-Suppressing Sword swirled in the sunlight, as gentle as a halo. "Look at that sword," she said softly, "Back then, I always thought it was too sharp and would hurt people. Later I realized that the sharpest sword always protects the softest attachments."

Wang Shu followed her gaze and suddenly understood that the stories she had heard over the years, and what those people had guarded, were never the cold sword tombs or mountain gates, but the flowers in the herb garden and the warmth on the kang (heated brick bed). They were like the seeds of the Soul-Gathering Flower, scattered throughout the years, an endless bond of affection.

After staying at the Starry Sky Sword Sect for half a month, Su Qingwan's spirits improved somewhat. Every day, Wang Shu would accompany her to stroll through the herb garden, teaching her to recognize the unique herbs of Puhui Hall. Li Nian'an, on the other hand, would spar with Steward Zhao and occasionally sit by the Sword Tomb, talking to the divine sword like Wang Xiaohu had done years ago.

The day before their departure, Su Qingwan called Wang Shu and Li Nian'an to her side, took out a cloth bag from under her pillow, inside was half a peach blossom cake, wrapped in layers of oil paper, obviously it had been there for a long time. "This is the first peach blossom cake that Xiao Hu brought me back then," she said with a smile, "I never wanted to eat it, so I'm giving it to you now as a keepsake."

Wang Shu took the cloth bag, her fingertips touching the folds of the oiled paper. Suddenly, she remembered A Ying's appearance before her death, the dandelion embroidered by Miss Wang, and the sword tassel of Wang Xiaohu—it turned out that these seemingly insignificant things all contained the longest-lasting concerns.

On the way back, Azhu suddenly pointed to the grass by the roadside: "Sister Wangshu, look! It's a 'Wanggui Grass'!"

Several tender green shoots of the "Wanggui Grass" grew in the cracks of the rocks, their leaves pointing towards the Star Sword Sect, like a few persistent little sentinels. Wang Shu squatted down and gently stroked the leaves: "They are also thinking of Grandma Su."

Looking at the *Gnaphalium affine*, Li Nian'an suddenly said, "Let's bring some seeds of the *Gnaphalium affine* from Guixin Hall next spring so they can take root here and Grandma Su can see them every day."

Wang Shu nodded, feeling a sudden sense of peace. She knew that the story would continue—A Zhu would learn to recognize more herbs, Li Nian'an would polish the Gui Xin Tang plaque even brighter, and she would scatter the seeds of the Soul-Gathering Flower to farther places, so that every corner would know that there was once a group of people who planted their longing into flowers and turned their years into poetry.

Just like now, the wind rustles through the leaves of the grass that longs for home, making a soft, whispering sound:
Don't be afraid, the longing never goes far. It will turn into flower seeds, into blades of grass, into that faint, warm fragrance in every ordinary day. And this story will continue to be written in that fragrance, year after year, until forever.

The year Su Qingwan left, the Soul-Gathering Flower bloomed exceptionally well.

The message was sent by Manager Zhao through a messenger. The letter contained only a few words: "Uncle Su passed away peacefully, clutching in his hand the flower seeds sent by Miss Wangshu, and the Wanggui grass on the windowsill, its leaves facing Qingshi Town."

Wang Shu was turning the soil in the medicinal herb garden of Guixin Hall, preparing to sow the newly harvested flower seeds. When she saw the letter, the hoe in her hand clattered to the ground, startling the earthworms in the soil into scurrying away. Li Nian'an stood behind her, holding a newly drawn herb illustration in his hand. The leaves of the *Wang Gui* herb in the illustration were spread out, lifelike.

“Let’s go to the Star Sword Sect.” Li Nian’an’s voice was deep, yet carried an undeniable firmness.

Wang Shu nodded, but her eyes reddened. She remembered Su Qingwan's last letter, saying that the Soul-Gathering Flower at Puhuitang had produced seeds, and that she must go and collect them in the spring. She also said that she would teach her how to make sachets from the seeds, and that the fragrance could preserve the most precious memories.

Azhu, now a teenager, heard that he was going to the Star Sword Sect and ran over with his little medicine basket on his back: "Sister Wangshu, Brother Nian'an, I'm going too! I brought Grandma Su some dried dandelions that I dried myself. She said that drinking them in water can calm the nerves."

Wang Shu patted his head, took out a cloth bag from the bamboo basket, inside were the best Soul-Gathering Flower seeds of the year: "Take this and scatter it under Grandma Su's windowsill, and new flowers will grow next year."

The three set off as the morning dew fell. The mountain path wound its way along, like an unbreakable thread, one end connecting to Guixin Hall and the other to Xingchen Sword Sect. Wang Shu walked in the middle, clutching the half-eaten peach blossom cake left by Su Qingwan in her hand. The oiled paper was warm from her body heat, and she could almost smell the sweet fragrance of yesteryear.

When they arrived at the Star Sword Sect, the disciples of the Puhui Hall were all dressed in mourning clothes. Manager Zhao came up to them, his eyes red-rimmed: "Before she passed away, Martial Aunt Su said not to be sad. She just went to see Martial Aunt Xiaohu and said that the Soul-Gathering Flowers over there must be in full bloom."

Su Qingwan's memorial tablet was placed next to the Sword Tomb, with Wang Xiaohu's tablet beside it. The two wooden tablets stood side by side, like two old friends who had stayed together for many years. Wang Shu scattered the Soul-Gathering Flower seeds she had brought in front of the memorial tablet and placed dried dandelions on it: "Grandma Su, look, Azhu brought you some calming medicine."

Li Nian'an then laid out his newly drawn herbal medicine picture in front of the altar. The leaves of the herb "Wanggui" in the picture faced Qingshi Town, and next to it was written: "This herb has a heart, and does not forget the way home."

At night, the three of them stayed in the old house of Puhuitang. The furnishings in the house were still the same as when Su Qingwan was there. The bamboo chair was placed by the window, still retaining a faint warmth from her body; the medicine grinder on the table was covered with herbal fragments, as if someone would come to grind them at any moment; in the pottery jar in the corner, there were dried Soul-Gathering Flowers from last year, and their fragrance was still delicate.

Wang Shu sat on the bamboo chair, gazing at the sword mound outside the window, and suddenly felt that Su Qingwan hadn't gone far. She seemed to see Su Qingwan sitting in this chair, mending the sword tassel for Wang Xiaohu; she saw her laughing and talking with her disciples in the herb garden, holding up freshly picked Soul-Gathering Flowers; she saw her gazing at the Wanggui Grass in a daze, softly murmuring, "It's time to write a letter to Guixin Hall."

“Nian’an,” Wang Shu said softly, “Do you think Grandma Su and Little Tiger are really watching us?”

Li Nian'an sat at the desk, stroking the sword tassel left by Wang Xiaohu: "It's definitely there. Look at that Demon-Suppressing Sword, its light is brighter than usual tonight, as if it's greeting us."

Ah Zhu leaned against the window, gazing at the seven illusory figures swirling above the sword mound, and suddenly said, "I think I hear the swords singing, just like what Sister Wang Shu said."

The three of them remained silent, sitting quietly and listening to the wind outside the window, as if listening to a long ballad. The ballad contained the sweetness of peach blossom cake, the fragrance of Soul-Gathering Flowers, the fireworks of Guixin Hall, the moonlight of Xingchen Sword Sect, and those endless longings.

After staying at the Starry Sword Sect for seven days, Wang Shu and Li Nian'an helped the disciples tend the herb garden, scattering the flower seeds they brought all over the open space under Su Qingwan's window. A-Zhu, meanwhile, followed Steward Zhao to learn about the herbs of Puhui Hall, diligently taking notes in her notebook, saying she wanted to learn all the herbs here and teach them to the children of Guixin Hall when she returned. On the day of departure, Wang Shu took one last look at the Sword Tomb. The Soul-Gathering Flower seeds before the spirit tablet had absorbed enough water, sprouting tender green buds, like countless eyes curiously observing the world. The leaves of the Wanggui Grass still faced Qing Shi Town, swaying gently in the wind, as if saying, "Have a safe journey."

“We will come back often,” Wang Shu said softly to the memorial tablet. “When the Soul-Gathering Flower blooms, we will bring you peach blossom cakes from Guixintang and tell you how many medicines Azhu has learned, and how much taller the children of Guixintang have grown.”

On the way back, Azhu suddenly pointed to the flower bushes by the roadside: "Sister Wangshu, look! Dandelions!"

A cluster of dandelions was in full bloom, their white fluff trembling gently in the wind. Wang Shu squatted down, picked one, and handed it to A Zhu: "Blow it, let it carry our words, tell Grandma Su and Little Tiger Yeye that we will live a good life and continue writing the story."

A-Zhu took a deep breath, blew hard, and the fluffy feathers rode the wind, swirling and flying into the distance, like a flock of white messengers, carrying their concerns, flying towards the horizon.

When they returned to Guixin Hall, it was already late autumn. The Wanggui Grass in the herb garden had grown even more vigorously, its leaves pointing towards the Xingchen Sword Sect, like a green sea. Li Nian'an wrote Su Qingwan and Wang Xiaohu's story stroke by stroke in a new booklet, accompanied by illustrations drawn by Azhu, including the Soul-Gathering Flower Sea, the light and shadow of the Sword Tomb, the fireworks of Guixin Hall, and the warm sun of Qingshi Town.

In the center of the herb garden, Wang Shu planted a new Wang Gui grass and placed a small wooden sign next to it that read: "This grass connects two springs." She said that this way, whether in the Starry Sky Sword Sect or the Returning Heart Hall, seeing the Wang Gui grass would be like seeing each other.

After winter set in, a group of new children arrived at Guixin Hall. They were all homeless orphans, and Li Nian'an took them in. Wang Shu taught them to recognize herbs, Li Nian'an taught them swordsmanship, and A Zhu led them to plant Soul-Gathering Flowers in the herb garden, saying that once the flowers bloomed, they would send them to their uncles at the Starry Sky Sword Sect.

On New Year's Eve, the bonfire was lit again. The children sang around the fire, singing the herbal songs that Wang Shu taught them, the sword rhymes that Li Nian'an composed, and the dandelion songs that A Zhu hummed. Looking at the lively scene before him, Wang Shu suddenly remembered what Su Qingwan had said: "The so-called Jianghu is nothing more than a group of people guarding a piece of land, living their lives like poetry, and planting their worries into flowers."

She took out the half-piece of peach blossom cake from her bosom, carefully broke it into small pieces, and gave them to each child: "Try it, this is the taste left by Grandma Su, isn't it sweet?"

The children nodded, their little faces covered in sugar crumbs, their smiles like little suns. Li Nian'an and Azhu also held peach blossom cakes, gazing in the direction of the Starry Sky Sword Sect, their eyes shining.

The bonfire burned ever brighter, illuminating the eaves of Guixin Hall and the Wanggui Grass in the herb garden. Wang Shu knew that this story would continue—the children would grow up, learn to recognize herbs, learn to practice swordsmanship, and learn to scatter the seeds of Ninghun Flower to farther places; the plaque of Guixin Hall would always hang there, growing brighter in the wind and rain; the Ninghun Flower of Xingchen Sword Sect would bloom year after year, and the Wanggui Grass would grow year after year, tying the two places' longing into an unbreakable thread.

Just like now, the firelight shines on everyone's faces, as warm as Su Qingwan's hand, as warm as Wang Xiaohu's smile, as warm as all the unspoken tenderness hidden in the years. And this tenderness will transform into the fragrance of the Soul-Gathering Flower, into the leaves of the Longing-for-Home Grass, into the songs of children, flowing slowly through time, continuing to write an endless story about love and protection.

The snow outside the window began to fall again, gently landing on the leaves of the *Wangguicao* (a type of medicinal herb), like a white stamp sealing this longing. When Wangshu was fifty, the medicinal herb garden of Guixintang had already spread to the edge of Qingshi Town.

The first Soul-Gathering Flower that A-Zhu planted years ago has now grown into a purple sea. When the wind blows, the sea of ​​flowers surges, and the fragrance can fill the entire town. A-Zhu is now known as "Master A-Zhu" in Qing Shi Town. He leads a group of disciples to manage the herb garden. Although his temples are streaked with frost, he still habitually wears that indigo coarse cloth shirt, just like A-Ying back then.

"Mr. Wangshu, look at these newly harvested flower seeds, they are much plumper than last year's." A young disciple with his hair in a topknot ran over carrying a bamboo basket. The Soul-Gathering Flower seeds in the basket were black, shiny, and plump, the best harvest this year.

Wang Shu was watering an old dandelion plant, which had been transplanted from the Starry Sky Sword Sect years ago. Now it was as thick as an arm, and its leaves always faced north, like a steadfast guardian. "Good child, pick out the roundest ones and put them in this cloth bag." She handed over a blue cloth bag embroidered with faded dandelions, an old item left by Miss Wang.

"Is it to be sent to Grandpa Zhao of the Star Sword Sect?" the young disciple asked, looking up. Manager Zhao is old now and has difficulty walking, but every year he asks someone to ask for Soul-Gathering Flower seeds, saying that he wants to scatter them in front of Su Qingwan and Wang Xiaohu's spirit tablets.

Wang Shu nodded, her fingertips brushing against the dandelions on the cloth bag: "Tell Grandpa Zhao that when spring comes, I will take the children to visit him and collect the flower seeds from Puhuitang."

Li Nian'an has been staying at the Starry Sky Sword Sect for years, ostensibly to help Manager Zhao manage the Puhui Hall, but in reality, he wants to guard the Soul-Gathering Flowers next to the Sword Tomb. Every year after the snow melts, he sends a letter, describing how beautifully the flowers bloom, how much the Hope-Returning Grass has grown, and how he often dreams of Wang Xiaohu teaching him swordsmanship, with Su Qingwan sitting beside him sewing dolls.

That autumn, Li Nian'an's letter was delayed. Wang Shu felt uneasy and had A Zhu prepare a carriage. She then took her two most clever disciples and hurried to the Star Sword Sect.

The mountain road was still familiar, but the tracks left by the wheels had become more rugged with the marks of time. Wang Shu sat in the car, clutching the herbal medicine diagram that Li Nian'an had sent her last year. Next to the sword mound in the diagram were two small figures, her and Li Nian'an in their youth.

Upon arriving at the Star Sword Sect, the disciples of Puhui Hall looked solemn. Manager Zhao, leaning on his cane, came forward, tears streaming down his face: "Nian'an... he was meditating by the Sword Tomb a few days ago, and then he just passed away. He was still clutching your letter in his hand, saying that Wangshu should be coming to collect the flower seeds."

Li Nian'an's memorial tablet stood next to Wang Xiaohu's and Su Qingwan's, the three wooden tablets side by side, like a complete painting. Wang Shu scattered the flower seeds she brought in front of the memorial tablet, and then tied her newly embroidered sword tassel to the Demon-Suppressing Sword—the tassel was made with the stem of the Soul-Gathering Flower as its core, wrapped in blue cloth, just like the one Wang Xiaohu had back then.

“Brother Nian’an, look, I brought the flower seeds.” Wang Shu’s voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing the sleeping person. “The flowers in Guixintang are blooming well this year. The children have all learned to make sachets with the flower seeds, saying they want to send them to friends far away.”

That night, Wang Shu stayed at Li Nian'an's old house. Herbal illustrations lay spread out on the table, the last stroke resting on a leaf of *Hovenia dulcis*, as if the artist had merely gotten up to add tea and would return at any moment to continue painting. The wooden sword hung on the wall, its tassel still swaying gently in the wind, though the red string on the tassel had faded. (End of Chapter)