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

When Ming Shu was sixteen, a traveling doctor came to Qing Shi Town.

The old man carried an old medicine chest on his back, his temples were as white as snow, and the head of his walking stick was carved with a stalk of the "Wang Gui Cao" (a type of herb), exactly the same as the pattern on the stone tablet of Gui Xin Tang (a temple name). He said he came from the snowy mountains of the far north, having heard that the Golden-edged Soul-Nourishing Flower of Gui Xin Tang could calm the mind, and had come specifically to ask for the flower seeds.

“These flowers have a spirit.” Ming Shu led the old woman through the herb garden, where a sea of ​​purple flowers rippled in the wind, their golden edges shimmering with light. She was now a graceful young woman, the jade pendant of the herb Wang Gui Cao on her dress swaying gently with her steps, just like Nian He had been back then. “Grandma Wang Shu said back then that it remembers all the people it cares about.”

The old man squatted down, his fingertips lightly touching the petals. He suddenly sighed, "Thirty years ago, I saw a similar flower in the far north, growing next to the Sealing Jade. The edges of its petals were also tinged with gold, but it was not as lush as the one here."

Ming Shu's heart skipped a beat. She had only read about the story of the Sealing Jade of the Far North in her ancestors' notes, which said that the jade had once sealed a thousand-year-old nightmare, and that the seal was reforged by Wang Xiaohu's great-grandfather using the spiritual essence of the seven swords. "Old sir, have you seen the Sealing Jade?"

“I’ve seen it more than once.” The old man took out a piece of broken jade from his medicine box. The texture was similar to Ming Shu’s jade pendant, but it exuded a bone-chilling coldness. “I am a descendant of the Ice Clan. This is a scrap of the Sealing Spirit Jade. After the Frost Nightmare was sealed, the light of the Sealing Spirit Jade nourished the snow mountain. Now, the mountain is also full of Returning Grass, and the leaves all face south.”

Ming Shu took the broken jade pendant, and the coolness from her fingertips blended wonderfully with the warmth of the jade. She suddenly remembered that Zhao Yan had said that beside the sword mound of Puhui Hall, the seven phantoms of the Demon-Suppressing Sword would transform into a band of light during the full moon, echoing the Spirit-Sealing Jade in the far north.

“If you don’t mind, sir, please stay at Guixin Hall for a while.” Ming Shu returned the broken jade to him. “I will personally wrap it up for you once the new flower seeds are harvested.”

The old man smiled and agreed, his gaze sweeping over the stone tablet at the end of the herb garden. The four characters "This herb connects hearts" were particularly clear in the sunlight. "Alright, I'll trouble you for a few days. I'll also tell you about the 'Wanggui Grass' from the far north, so as not to disappoint the flower's affection."

At night, the old man sat on the veranda, telling Ming Shu and Zhao Yan, who had rushed over, stories of the far north. He said that the bone-chilling crevices deep in the snow-capped mountains had turned into lakes, and the light of the Sealing Jade was reflected on the lake surface like a dancing star; he said that the children of the Ice Tribe would sing to the south, and the lyrics contained "Returning Heart Hall" and "Soul-Gathering Flower"; he said that the leaves of the Longing Grass there were exceptionally wide, as if they wanted to write all their longings on them.

“Great-grandfather said that what Wang Xiaohu’s great-grandfather brought out from the ice crevice back then was not only a fragment of the Sealing Jade, but also a seed of the Returning-to-Home Grass.” Zhao Yan flipped through the herbal medicine map he carried with him. On the map, a small Returning-to-Home Grass was drawn in the far north. “He said that this grass wanted to follow people home.”

Upon hearing this, the old man took out a cloth bag from his medicine box. Inside were seeds of the Northern Hope-Returning Grass, which were plumper than those from Guixintang and carried a faint icy fragrance. "Then I'll use these seeds to exchange for your Soul-Gathering Flower seeds." He handed the cloth bag to Ming Shu, "so that the grasses and flowers of the two places can also recognize each other."

Ming Shu took the seeds and suddenly suggested, "How about we make a pact? Every spring, Gui Xin Tang will send Ning Hun Hua seeds to the far north, and Pu Hui Tang will send Wang Gui Cao seeds to the far north, so that the flowers there will bloom as profusely as those in Gui Xin Tang."

"Good!" The old man clapped his hands and laughed. "I'll go back and tell my people to cultivate a medicinal garden next to the Sealing Jade and wait for your flower seeds."

Zhao Yan nodded in agreement, then took out a jade pendant from his pocket. He had carved it himself, and it was inscribed with the words "Continue Spring," exactly the same as the words that Great-Grandma Wang Shu had carved next to the Sword Tomb. "Give this to the children of the Ice Clan, to tell them that concern is never one-sided."

The old man took the jade pendant, his fingertips gently tracing the engravings, his eyes suddenly reddening. He remembered what the elders of the Ice Clan often said: after the sealing of the Frost Demon, warm light would always drift from the south, falling on the Hope Grass, allowing it to take root even in the extreme cold. Now it seemed that it wasn't just light, but the longing in the hearts of generations, transformed into warmth that crossed mountains and seas.

After staying at Guixin Hall for half a month, the old man was about to set off. Ming Shu packed him a bag full of golden-edged Soul-Gathering Flower seeds, and also stuffed a leaf of Guixin Hall's Longing-for-Home Grass inside, with a small dandelion drawn on the leaf in vermilion. "That way it won't get lost."

Zhao Yan gave him a painting, a panoramic view of Guixin Hall painted by Ming Shu. The flower field in the herb garden looked like a purple sea, and the Wanggui grass next to the stone tablet looked into the distance. In the corner, there was also a painting of two children blowing dandelions, which were his and Ming Shu's appearance.

"When we get to the far north, we'll hang the painting next to the herb garden," Zhao Yan said earnestly. "Let the grass and flowers there know that we're waiting for their news."

The old man solemnly accepted the painting and flower seeds, carefully keeping them close to his body. Before leaving, he looked in the direction of Guixin Hall and suddenly bowed to the air: "Mr. Wang Xiaohu, Mr. Su Qingwan, Mr. Wang Shu... you see, this story is still going on."

The wind blew through the herb garden, and the Soul-Gathering Flowers swayed gently, as if in response to his words.

After the old man left, Ming Shu and Zhao Yan erected a new stone tablet beside the Wanggui Grass in Guixin Hall, inscribed with "The Wind Delivers the Flower's Message." Zhao Yan said that this was the intention of her great-grandfather Zhao Cheng; the wind would carry flower seeds and longing, binding the two places even closer together.

As summer approached, a letter indeed arrived from the far north. It was a letter from a child of the Ice Clan, made of animal hide. On it was a drawing of the herb garden beside the Sealing Jade, where several tender green Soul-Gathering Flowers were sprouting, and the leaves of the Returning-to-Home Grass beside them faced south, as if waving. Tucked inside the letter was a leaf of the Returning-to-Home Grass from the far north, almost twice as wide as the one from the Returning-to-Heart Hall. The veins of the leaf seemed to still contain unmelted ice, yet it exuded a vitality that never ceased to thrive.

Ming Shu tucked the leaf into the sketchbook her mother had left behind. On the latest page, she had drawn a map connecting three places: Guixin Hall in Qingshi Town, Puhui Hall in Xingchen Sword Sect, and Fengling Jade in the far north. Blooming Soul-Gathering Flowers and graceful Wanggui Grass were drawn in all three places, connected by a golden line, like a flowing river of light.

“Look,” she said to Zhao Yan, pointing to the map, “our story has grown so long that you can’t see the end of it.”

Zhao Yan nodded and took out a newly carved wooden plaque from his pocket. It had three hearts connected together, with the words "Return," "Star," and "Pole" written inside. "In autumn, we'll send this plaque to the far north so they know that the three hearts are connected."

The setting sun cast long shadows on the two of them, overlapping with the flower shadows in the herb garden, like a warm painting. Ming Shu suddenly remembered a sentence from her great-grandmother Wang Shu's notes: "What is eternity is nothing more than letting longing sprout like flower seeds in time."

She knew the story would continue. The Soul-Gathering Flower in the far north would grow ever more abundant, the Homecoming Grass in Guixin Hall would stretch its leaves even further, Ming Shu would pass on the paintings of the Ice Tribe children to her daughter, and Zhao Yan would carve the wooden plaque connecting the three places into a tradition, so that future generations would know that long, long ago, a group of people used flower seeds and grass leaves to pave a warm road between the mountains and the sea. Just like now, the wind carrying the fragrance of the Soul-Gathering Flower swept past the stone tablet, and "This grass connects hearts" and "The wind delivers the flower's message" resonated gently in the wind, like countless voices saying:
We are all here, the story is not over.

And this unfinished story will flow slowly through time with the wind, with the light, with every flower seed, and with every blade of grass, continuing to write an endless legend about love and connection.

When Ming Shu's daughter, Zhao He, first set foot on the land of the far north, she tightly clutched a brocade box in her arms.

Inside the brocade box were three strands of dried flowers and herbs: gold-edged Soul-Gathering petals from Guixintang, leaves of Wanggui grass from Puhuitang, and Edelweiss sent by the Arctic Ice Tribe last year. She was seventeen years old this year, and her eyebrows and eyes were very similar to Ming Shu's when she was young, but the jade pendant on her lapel had changed to a new style—a three-colored pattern carved by Zhao Yan himself, purple for Soul-Gathering Flower, green for Wanggui Grass, and white for Edelweiss, with silk threads intertwined and inseparable.

“Sister Zhaohe, Fengling Jade Lake is just ahead.” The Ice Clan boy, Alin, who was traveling with her, turned around and called to her. The boy was wearing a white deerskin coat and holding a walking stick made of longing grass. The character “Gui” on the top of the stick was polished to a shine. He was the great-grandson of the wandering doctor from back then, and also the envoy for this “Flower Road” exchange.

Zhao He quickened her pace, her boots crunching on the frozen ground. The far north wind carried ice shards, but it couldn't dispel the faint scent of herbs in the air—the seeds of the Soul-Gathering Flower from Guixin Hall, which had taken root beside the Spirit-Sealing Jade and had now grown into a bush half a person's height. The purple petals were particularly bright on the icy plain, and the golden edges were reflected in the snow, making them look as if they were burning.

“Look,” Ah Lin pointed to the herb garden by the lake, “these were all planted with the flower seeds you sent. The elders in the tribe say that since the Soul-Gathering Flower appeared, the light of the Spirit-Sealing Jade has become warmer.”

Beside the herb garden stood a stone tablet inscribed with the words "The wind carries the message of flowers," written by Ming Shu himself, the characters appearing even more vigorous in the wind and snow. In front of the tablet were two bunches of flowers: one was freshly picked Soul-Gathering Flower, and the other was Edelweiss, its white petals adorned with ice crystals, like a layer of scattered diamonds.

Zhaohe squatted down and carefully took out the three strands of flowers and grass from the brocade box, burying them in the soil under the tombstone: "These are the best flowers from Guixintang this year, the newest grass from Puhuitang, and..." She paused, her voice trembling slightly, "My mother said that burying them together is like the people from the three places being together forever."

Ah Lin's eyes also reddened. He had heard his grandfather say that the first packet of flower seeds sent by Zhao He's great-grandmother, Ming Shu, contained a leaf of a dandelion-patterned grass. That leaf was later used as a "token" by the children of the clan, who took turns carrying it in their bosoms, saying that it would allow them to dream of the fireworks of Qing Shi Town.

At night, a stove was lit in the tent of the Bing tribe. Zhaohe told Alin about the new things happening at Guixintang: that Grandpa Zhao Yan had turned the story of "Flower Road" into a folk song, which the children would sing when they learned to walk; that Brother Zhao Yan of Puhuitang had taken on a new disciple, a descendant of Great-Grandpa Li Nian'an, who was faster than anyone else at recognizing medicinal herbs; and that Guixintang's medicinal garden had expanded by half an acre, and that the leaves of the newly planted Wanggui grass clearly showed the direction of the far north.

“We also composed a folk song.” Ah Lin held up a bowl of hot milk tea and handed it to Zhao He. “The song is ‘The soul gathers in the south, the hope returns in the north, the wind is the postman, accompanying us year after year.’”

Zhaohe took the milk tea, the warmth flowing down her throat and into her heart. She suddenly understood that those stories that were repeatedly told, those exchanges that crossed mountains and seas, were never about leaving behind any specific objects, but about letting future generations know that no matter how far apart they are, hearts can always find a way to connect.

After living in the far north for over a month, Zhaohe learned to identify herbs in the snow from Alin and discovered that the children of the Ice Tribe all wore jade pendants around their necks. Some were engraved with Soul-Gathering Flowers, and some with Longing-for-Return Grass. They were all imitations of the "Continuing Spring" jade pendant that Zhao Yan had given her years ago. "Grandpa said that this is the 'Heart-Connecting Pendant'," Alin said, touching the jade pendant around her neck. "Wearing it is like standing with the people of Guixintang and Puhuitang."

The day before her departure, Zhao He sketched by Fenglingyu Lake. The lake reflected the color of the sky, and the light of Fenglingyu shimmered on its surface like a golden ribbon. She included the Soul-Gathering Flower, the Returning Grass, and the Edelweiss in her painting, and added three small figures in the corner: Ming Shu from Guixin Hall was watering the flowers, Zhao Yan from Puhui Hall was practicing his sword, and Grandpa A Lin from the Ice Clan was gathering herbs. Their hands were clasped together in the center of the painting, each holding a plump flower seed.

"What's the name of this painting?" Ah Lin leaned closer to take a look.

“Let’s call it ‘Continuing Spring’.” Zhao He paused, then added the last stroke. “Grandma Wang Shu said that spring will continue forever, and I want this painting to continue as well, adding new people and new stories every year.”

Ah Lin nodded and took out a wooden box from his pocket. Inside was a fragment of a spirit-sealing jade, which was more lustrous than the one the wandering healer had brought back years ago, with its edges polished into the shape of a flower. "This is for you," he said, placing the wooden box into Zhao He's hand. "The tribe's shaman said that this jade has absorbed the fragrance of the Soul-Gathering Flower and can remember all warm memories."

Zhaohe took the wooden box, her fingertips touching the warmth of the jade. She suddenly remembered her mother Mingshu's words before she left: "The continuation of a story is never a one-person job. It is a group of people bringing their hearts together so that their concerns have a place to go and a place to return to."

As the sleds departed the ice plains on their return journey, A-Lin and her people waved goodbye in the snow, holding up the "Spring Continuation Picture" painted by Zhao-He. The wind blew the scroll, and the flowers and plants on it seemed to come alive, stretching out in the snow. Zhao-He lifted the sled curtain and watched the northern craving grass swaying in the wind, its leaves facing south like countless waving hands.

Suddenly, she grabbed a handful of Soul-Gathering Flower seeds and scattered them across the icy plain. The seeds landed on the snow and were instantly swept away by the wind, as if weaving a purple path across the ice. "See you next year!" she shouted to the wind, her voice carried far away, "We'll send even more seeds, making spring here warmer than last year!"

The sled left two tracks on the snowfield, like a long thread, one end tied to the ice of the far north, the other to the warmth of Guixin Hall. Zhaohe opened the brocade box and placed the fragment of the Sealing Jade inside, along with the three strands of flowers and grass. She knew that this fragment would be like a silent listener, recording the fireworks of Guixin Hall, the sword sounds of Puhui Hall, the wind of the icy plains, and those unfinished tendernesses hidden in the years.

It was early summer when they returned to Guixin Hall. Ming Shu and Zhao Yan were waiting at the town entrance; their hair had turned white, yet they could still call out her name accurately. "Are the flowers in the far north blooming well?" Ming Shu held her daughter's hand, the warmth of her palm emanating from the brocade box.

“Good, even better than in the painting.” Zhaohe opened the “Continuation of Spring Picture” and pointed to the icy plain in the painting. “Alin said that when the snow melts completely, the painting will be hung next to the herb garden so that every Soul-Gathering Flower can recognize us.”

Zhao Yan looked at the painting and suddenly smiled: "I added a few strokes too." He pointed to the location of Puhui Hall, where a small medicine boy was standing on tiptoe watering the Wanggui Grass. "This is a newly accepted disciple. He said he wants to learn to identify herbs from the 'Continuing Spring Picture' and draw all the herbs from the three regions." (End of this chapter)