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

Wang Shu took down the wooden sword, on which were engraved two small characters: "Returning Home". It was carved by Li Nian'an himself, saying that no matter how far one goes, one's heart should always have a place to return to. She suddenly remembered when they were young, the two of them planted Soul-Gathering Flowers together in the medicinal garden of Guixin Hall. Li Nian'an said, "When we get old, we will hand over the medicinal garden to the children, and we will sit under the veranda and watch the flowers, just like Grandma Su and Little Tiger Grandpa did."

The flowers are still blooming, but the people have scattered.

After staying at the Starry Sword Sect for half a month, Wang Shu helped the disciples collect the Soul-Gathering Flower seeds and completed the herbal medicine drawing that Li Nian'an had not finished. The leaves of the Wanggui Grass in the drawing face towards Qing Shi Town, and a few small figures are added next to it. It is A Zhu and his disciples, who are carrying medicine baskets and hurrying towards the Starry Sword Sect.

On the day of parting, Wang Shu took one last look at the Sword Tomb. The Soul-Gathering Flowers before the spirit tablet had already borne seeds, black and plump, like countless eyes gazing into the distance. The leaves of the Returning Grass stretched in the wind, half facing Qing Shi Town and half facing the spirit tablet, as if saying, "You see, concern is always two-way."

“We will come often,” Wang Shu said softly to the three memorial tablets. “When the children grow up, I will have them bring the newly harvested flower seeds to tell you about the interesting things that happened at Guixin Hall, and how many medicines the children of Qingshi Town have learned.”

On the return journey in the carriage, Wang Shu opened the letter that Li Nian'an was clutching. It was written before she set off, saying that the Wanggui grass in Guixin Hall had produced seeds, and asked him if he wanted to take some to Puhui Hall, saying that she wanted the grass in both places to grow equally well, and to remember the way home.

The edges of the letter were crumpled from being gripped, but the two words Li Nian'an had written next to it were still legible: "Okay."

Wang Shu folded the letter and put it in her close-fitting cloth bag, along with the half-eaten peach blossom cake and Su Qingwan's doll. These old items, like beads strung together by the thread of time, became her most precious memories.

When they returned to Guixin Hall, Azhu and her disciples were waiting at the town entrance. The Soul-Gathering Flowers in the herb garden were still blooming, their purple petals glistening with autumn dew, like scattered stardust. Wangshu took some flower seeds from Puhui Hall from the carriage and handed them to the youngest disciple: "Come, scatter these on the far east side of the herb garden, and next year, flowers like those from the Starry Sky Sword Sect will grow here."

The young disciple, carrying flower seeds, skipped and hopped towards the herb garden, followed by a group of children whose laughter, like wind chimes under the eaves, was so clear and heartwarming.

Standing under the eaves, watching the children's figures, Wang Shu suddenly understood that the so-called continuation of the story was never the persistence of one person, but a relay of many. From Wang Xiaohu to Li Nian'an, from Su Qingwan to her, from A Ying to A Zhu, and then to these bouncy children, each person is a stroke in the story, seemingly small, yet together they outline the warmest contours.

The autumn wind swept through the herb garden, carrying the fragrance of the Soul-Gathering Flower into the distance, as if telling a very long story. In this story, there is the moonlight over the Sword Tomb, the smoke from the Returning Heart Hall, the unwavering devotion of the Hopeful Grass, the gentleness of the Soul-Gathering Flower, and countless ordinary people who, throughout their lives, guarded a simple bond.

Wang Shu knew that this story would continue. The children would grow up, scatter the flower seeds to farther places, tell more people about the meaning of "returning home," and let every piece of land know that there is a kind of grass called "longing for home," a kind of flower called "concentrating the soul," and a kind of longing that can cross mountains and seas, penetrate the years, and continue to be written forever in time.

Just like now, the setting sun falls on the herb garden, gilding the purple sea of ​​flowers with a layer of gold. The leaves of the Wanggui Grass sway gently in the wind, half facing the Xingchen Sword Sect and half facing the Guixin Hall, as if saying: In the spring of the year Wang Shu turned eighty, a peculiar Soul-Gathering Flower grew in the herb garden of Guixin Hall.

It wasn't pure purple; the edges of its petals had a faint golden tinge, like marks kissed by sunlight. It was discovered by a little girl with pigtails named Nianhe, the great-granddaughter of Azhu. Her name was given by Wangshu; "Nian" is from Li Nian'an, and "He" is from Ahe.

"Great-Grandma Wangshu, look at this flower!" Nianhe held up her skirt and carefully ran over to protect the flower. Her little face was covered in mud, just like Wangshu back then.

Wang Shu sat on a bamboo chair under the eaves, stroking a bracelet made of Soul-Gathering Flower seeds in her hand. The beads had been polished smooth by the years. She squinted at the golden-edged Soul-Gathering Flower, and suddenly smiled, sunlight reflecting in the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes: "This is a good omen, it means it remembers everything."

Nianhe seemed to understand, but she imitated the adults and watered the flowers with some morning dew: "Grandpa Azhu said that flowers have memories and will remember who is good to them."

Over the years, A-Zhu's back has become more hunched, but he still goes to the herb garden every day. The cane he uses is made from the branches of the old *Guigui* herb from back then, with the small character "Gui" (meaning "return") engraved on the top. He often tells his disciples, "Plants are more affectionate than people. If you treat them with care, they will repay you with blooming flowers."

As summer approached, a special guest arrived at the Starry Sky Sword Sect—Zhao Cheng, the grandson of Steward Zhao. The young man was in his early twenties, bearing a resemblance to Steward Zhao in his features, but with an added touch of youthful vigor. He had come to escort Wang Shu to the Starry Sky Sword Sect.

"Great-Grandma Wangshu, Grandpa said that the Soul-Gathering Flowers at Puhuitang are blooming more profusely than in previous years. The one with the golden edges is even more beautiful than the one at Guixintang." Zhao Cheng handed Wangshu a cup of dandelion tea, brewed with the old roots from Guixintang, which had a slightly bitter taste with a sweet aftertaste.

Wang Shu took the teacup, her fingertips trembling slightly: "Good child, I'm afraid my old bones can no longer walk the mountain path."

“I prepared a carriage and laid out thick cotton padding,” Zhao Cheng said with a smile. “Grandpa also said that he found Li Nian’an’s great-grandfather’s wooden sword and said that you would be happy to see it.”

Wang Shu's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. She thought she had lost the wooden sword engraved with "Returning Home" long ago, but she was surprised to find it was still there.

Before setting off, Wang Shu asked Nian He to fetch a camphor wood box. Inside the box were some old items: half a peach blossom cake wrapped in oiled paper, the edges of which had hardened; a dried leaf of the Wang Gui grass, which was from Su Qingwan's spirit tablet; and the Soul-Gathering Flower Seed Bracelet, the beads of which had been rubbed until they shone.

“Take these to the land of the Star Sword Sect for me,” Wang Shu said softly, “so that they know that the people of Guixin Hall have not forgotten them.”

As the carriage drove away from Qing Shi Town, A Zhu and her disciples saw them off at the town entrance. Nian He leaned against the carriage window and pointed to the sunflowers by the roadside for Wang Shu: "Great-Grandma, look, they're still turning towards the sun!"

Wang Shu smiled and nodded. Sunlight streamed through the car window and fell on her face, warm and comforting, like when she was a child, Su Qingwan would hold her and tell her the story of the divine sword on the kang (heated brick bed) in Guixin Hall.

When they arrived at the Star Sword Sect, Steward Zhao was sitting under the eaves of the Puhui Hall, waiting. The old man was over ninety years old, and his eyesight was failing, but he could still recognize Wang Shu by her footsteps. "Girl, you've finally come." He held Wang Shu's hand, his palm warm. "I thought I wouldn't be able to wait for you again."

"Brother, here I come." Wang Shu's voice choked with emotion.

The herb garden at Puhuitang did not disappoint. The Soul-Gathering Flowers formed a purple sea, with one golden-edged plant blooming particularly flamboyantly, its petals shimmering like flowing light. Zhao Cheng said this plant grew before Li Nian'an's spirit tablet; no one had planted it intentionally, yet it thrived more than any other. Wang Shu walked to the Sword Tomb. The three wooden tablets still stood side by side, only their color had deepened. She placed the old items she had brought before the spirit tablets: peach blossom cake before Wang Xiaohu's tablet, leaves of the *Wanggui* herb before Su Qingwan's tablet, and the bracelet on Li Nian'an's tablet.

“Little Tiger, Grandma Su, Nian'an, I’ve come to see you.” Wang Shu’s voice was soft, but it carried clearly into the distance. “The flowers in Guixin Hall are blooming beautifully; the children have all grown up.”

Zhao Cheng quietly wiped away his tears. He had heard his grandfather tell too many stories about these people, the concerns hidden in the fragrance of herbs, and the years steeped in the sweetness of peach blossom cakes. Now, all of these had transformed into the sea of ​​flowers before him, so tender that it made his heart tremble.

That night, Wang Shu stayed at Li Nian'an's old house. The herbal medicine picture on the table was still there; Steward Zhao had it framed and hung on the wall. The leaves of the herb Wang Gui in the picture faced Qing Shi Town, and next to it was a line of small characters written by Steward Zhao: "Two flowers bloom, one place of longing."

Wang Shu was lying in bed when she suddenly heard a soft rustling sound outside the window. She put on her robe, got out of bed, and went to the window. She saw Zhao Cheng and Nian He watering the Soul-Gathering Flowers in the herb garden. The moonlight fell on them, like a layer of silver powder. Zhao Cheng was holding the wooden sword and gesturing something to Nian He. Nian He's laughter was clear and crisp, just like Wang Shu's back then.

"Great-Grandma, what does the word 'Return to the Heart' on this sword mean?" Nianhe asked, holding up the wooden sword with a curious look on her face.

Zhao Cheng squatted down and pointed to the "Returning Home" grass in the herb garden: "It means that no matter how far you go, you should always have a place in your heart that you remember, just like these grasses, which will always remember the direction of Guixin Hall."

Wang Shu stood by the window and suddenly smiled. It turns out that stories never need to be deliberately continued. Those longings hidden in the grass and trees, those "yearnings for home" engraved in the bones, have long been sown on the earth with the seeds of flowers, taking root and sprouting in the hearts of everyone with a heart, blooming into new flowers.

She recalled A-Ying's words, "Plants and trees have hearts," Su Qingwan's words, "The world of martial arts is all about daily necessities," Wang Xiaohu's words, "Protect those around you," and Li Nian'an's inscription, "Returning Home"... These words were like seeds that grew into a forest over the years, and she and everyone else were just leaves in that forest, yet because of each other's existence, this forest remained forever lush and green.

At daybreak, Wang Shu asked Zhao Cheng to bring her brush and ink. She sat down at the table and slowly wrote two characters on a yellowed sheet of Xuan paper: "Continue Spring".

The characters were written somewhat crookedly, yet they exuded a vibrant, unyielding energy. She said to Zhao Cheng, "Carve these two characters on the stone beside the Sword Tomb, to tell future generations that spring will continue, just like these flowers, these grasses, and these unfinished stories."

On the day she left the Star Sword Sect, Wang Shu left behind the Soul-Gathering Flower Seed Bracelet, which she hung on the tassel of the Demon-Suppressing Sword. Sunlight filtered through the seven illusory figures, casting dappled light on the bracelet, like countless eyes gently gazing upon this land.

As the carriage descended the mountain road, Nianhe suddenly pointed in the direction of the Sword Tomb: "Great-Grandma, look! Those flowers are moving!"

Wang Shu looked up and saw the wind sweeping across the sea of ​​Soul-Gathering Flowers, the purple waves surging towards Qing Shi Town as if waving goodbye. She knew this was not the end, but a new beginning.

Like that golden-edged soul-gathering flower, it passes on memories to its seeds; like that wooden sword engraved with "Returning Heart," it tells stories to the young; like her and everyone else, they become nourishment for the plants, allowing the bonds on this land to continue forever, year after year, until the end of time. When Nianhe grew into a graceful young woman, the golden-edged soul-gathering flower in Guixin Hall had already multiplied to fill half a garden.

These flowers are more drought-resistant than ordinary soul-gathering flowers, and the golden edges on their petals shimmer in the sunlight, like sprinkled gold dust. Nianhe always loved to squat by the flower field to sketch, and her sketchbook was filled with a thick stack of flower images, some with dew, some facing the wind, and on the last page was a blurry old woman sitting in a bamboo chair, stroking a flower seed bracelet in her hand—that was how Great-Grandma Wangshu looked before she passed away.

"Sister Nianhe, Brother Zhao Cheng is here again!" A young medicine boy with his hair in two buns ran over, holding a letter in his hand, the envelope stamped with the sealing wax seal of the Star Sword Sect.

Nianhe put down her paintbrush and lightly touched the gold-edged flower on the sketchbook with her fingertip. Zhao Cheng had come often over the years, sometimes bringing new medicinal seeds from Puhuitang, sometimes bringing seeds of the Wanggui grass from the Sword Tomb, but more often, he came to listen to her talk about Guixintang.

"Where is he?" As Nianhe stood up, her skirt swept past a Soul-Gathering Flower, lifting a few purple petals like a fluttering butterfly.

"Over there in the herb garden, he's helping Grandpa Azhu turn the soil." The young herb boy pointed to the eastern ridge of the field. "He said he brought something good and wants to surprise you."

Nianhe walked through the sea of ​​flowers and saw Zhao Cheng's figure in the distance. He was a little taller than last year, wearing a blue cloth jacket and trousers with mud clinging to the cuffs. He was carrying a wooden plow with Azhu, their movements as nimble as a poplar tree swaying in the wind. Azhu's cane leaned against the edge of the field, the character "归" (return) on the tip shining in the sunlight.

"Brother Zhao Cheng," Nianhe called softly.

Zhao Cheng turned around, his face covered in sweat, and smiled, revealing two small tiger teeth: "Nianhe, look what I brought?" He took out a small wooden box from his cloth bag. Inside, there was a jade pendant. The jade was warm and smooth, and it was carved in the shape of a grass that looked towards home. The leaves were facing one side, which was the direction of Qing Shi Town.

“This is…” Nianhe’s fingertips touched the jade pendant, the cool touch concealing warmth.

“It was left by my great-grandfather. He said this jade can calm the mind.” Zhao Cheng scratched his head, his ears turning a little red. “He said that Su Qingwan’s great-grandmother also had one, which was made from a fragment of the Sealing Jade. Later, it was passed down to Wang Shu’s great-grandmother.”

Ah Zhu laughed out loud: "Silly boy, how can you give a jade pendant like that? You have to say something auspicious."

Zhao Cheng's face turned even redder, but he looked at Nian He earnestly: "I think... after the autumn harvest, I'll accompany you to the Star Sword Sect. The golden-edged Soul-Gathering Flowers in Puhui Hall are in full bloom, and the Returning Grass next to the Sword Tomb has grown to half a person's height. My great-grandfather said that the moonlight there can illuminate the veins of the Returning Grass."

Nianhe clutched the jade pendant in her palm, her fingertips trembling slightly. She recalled the words of her great-grandmother Wangshu before her death: "Some roads must be walked by oneself to be truly counted."

(End of Chapter)