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

His words were like a ray of light in the darkness, instantly drawing the attention of all the survivors.

"Young sir! Please save my child!"

"Pingwa, please save my mother!"

Pleading and crying immediately rang out.

Fu Shaoping raised his hand in a gesture of quiet, signaling everyone to be calm: "Everyone, please calm down! Listen to me! This epidemic is contagious. You all need to do as I say in order to control the epidemic and save lives!"

He immediately demonstrated a maturity and organizational ability beyond his years:

"First, all households with symptoms of fever, vomiting, and rash should be immediately isolated, and family members should not leave the premises without permission! Those who have not yet developed symptoms should stay at home as much as possible and minimize contact!"

"Second, organize a team to immediately go to the back mountain to collect the herbs I need: honeysuckle, scutellaria, isatis root, and andrographis... Dogwa's dad, you know the mountain paths well, please lead the team!"

"Third, set up a large pot in an open area at the village entrance to decoct the medicine! All villagers, regardless of whether they are sick or not, must drink the anti-epidemic medicine every day!"

"Fourth, keep village wells clean and strictly prohibit dumping waste! Burn mugwort, atractylodes, and other herbs to fumigate and drive away disease!"

He was articulate and his instructions were clear, carrying an unquestionable authority. The desperate villagers, as if grasping at a straw, quickly sprang into action under the organization of clan chief Fu Laoshuan and Fu Tieshan.

Fu Shaoping, along with his parents, risked infection to visit each family affected by the illness. He carefully examined their conditions and adjusted the prescriptions according to the severity of their symptoms. Yang was responsible for preparing the medicine and caring for the patients, while Fu Tieshan was responsible for maintaining order and transporting supplies.

Fu Shaoping's prescription was not some miraculous remedy, but rather a combination of common herbs primarily used to clear heat, detoxify, cool the blood, and promote rash eruption, targeting this type of damp-heat epidemic disease. However, his use of medicine was precise, his dosage was excellent, and more importantly, he introduced the concepts of "isolation" and "public health," which was unprecedented in the countryside at that time, but effectively curbed the further spread of the epidemic.

Working tirelessly day and night, Fu Shaoping's slender figure moved through the village, which was filled with the smells of sickness and medicine. His eyes remained firm, and his movements were steady, as if nothing could shake his will. Watching him, the panicked villagers gradually calmed down, and hope was rekindled in their hearts.

A few days later, the first batch of critically ill patients treated according to Fu Shaoping's method began to stabilize, and their high fevers gradually subsided. The news brought joy to the entire village!

"Young Master is a living Bodhisattva!"

"The mountain god sent Pingwa to save us!"

Expressions of gratitude filled the air. The prestige and goodwill that the Fu family had accumulated before had transformed into immense trust and cohesion at this moment.

After nearly half a month of arduous struggle, the epidemic was finally brought under control, most patients recovered, and Wangshan Village minimized its losses in this sudden disaster.

After the pandemic, Fu Shaoping's reputation reached its peak in Wangshan Village and even the surrounding areas. He was no longer just a "little doctor" or "little miracle doctor," but had become the true "backbone" and "guardian" in the hearts of the villagers. Even the clan chief, Fu Laoshuan, publicly stated that in the future, important village matters should be decided by consulting Shaoping's opinion more often.

Upon learning the news, the Lin family of Qingtian Town once again sent generous gifts and made it clear that they would fund the construction of a primary school in Wangshan Village in the spring, hire renowned teachers, and discuss all matters with Fu Shaoping.

Standing at the village entrance, gazing at the village that had survived the disaster and was beginning to recover, and seeing the grateful and trusting looks from the villagers, Fu Shaoping felt a sense of clarity in his heart.

Through this experience, he gained a deeper understanding of the "fate" and "responsibility" in this world. This rough gem of his, tempered by the pandemic and sculpted by his benevolent heart, has already developed inner brilliance and begun to take shape.

He knew that his departure might not be far off. But before leaving, he needed to arrange a more stable future for this land to which he had poured his heart and soul. A hidden dragon will eventually rise from the abyss, and Wangshan Village would be the starting point of his legendary life, and also his hometown forever etched in his heart.

The shadow of the plague had completely dissipated, and Wangshan Village, like a forest washed clean by spring rain, radiated even more vibrant life. After this battle, Fu Shaoping's prestige and status were unshakeable. He was no longer merely a clever child, but had become the soul of the entire village, and the Fu family had undoubtedly become the core family of the village.

Keeping their promise, the Lin family of Qingtian Town sent craftsmen and materials after the spring to begin construction of a rather respectable elementary school on an open space near the ancestral hall at the eastern end of the village. Clan head Fu Laoshuan and several elders participated throughout the entire process, and the Lin family steward would specifically consult Fu Shaoping on many key decisions, such as the school's layout and the criteria for hiring teachers. Fu Shaoping's suggestions were often insightful and to the point, leaving the steward amazed and increasingly respectful.

The construction of the elementary school made Wangshan Village the envy of surrounding villages. Many people from other villages even began to use their connections to try to send their children to the future elementary school in Wangshan Village.

Despite the increased fame and responsibilities, Fu Shaoping did not disrupt his rhythm. He continued to tend his "Hundred Herbs Garden" daily, where the variety of crops and herbs had become even richer. He systematically compiled some mature and easily disseminated methods for planting and processing herbs, and through his father and the clan elder, he taught them free of charge to willing villagers. He also improved the extraction method of kudzu starch, resulting in a higher yield and better taste, adding another small sideline to the village.

His work teaching the village children did not stop. On the contrary, with the establishment of a primary school, he consciously shifted his teaching focus to guidance and inspiration, laying the foundation for the children's future formal education. Gouwa and several of the earliest children who followed him can now recognize hundreds of commonly used characters, perform simple calculations, and have a vision and thinking far beyond their peers.

Fu Shaoping could sense the radiance flowing within the "Book of a Hundred Lifetimes" in his sea of ​​consciousness. The pages of the second life were already thick and full, recording the merits and insights accumulated over time. A mysterious premonition told him that his earthly ties in this life were coming to an end, and his departure from this world was not far off.

He began to consciously make arrangements for his "afterlife".

He first had a deep conversation with his parents. He didn't reveal the secret of reincarnation, only saying that he might leave the village in the future to travel due to a "summoning from the mountain god" or "fortuitous encounter," with no certainty of his return. He told his parents that the family's savings were enough for them to enjoy their old age comfortably, and that the clan head and the Lin family would take care of their education, so they didn't need to worry too much. He solemnly handed over to his parents a well-organized herbal medicine manual, farming notes, and some principles of conduct, hoping they would make good use of them to help their neighbors and maintain the family business.

Fu Tieshan and Yang had long sensed their son's extraordinary nature. Hearing this, though they felt reluctant and worried, they were mostly understanding and supportive. They knew their son's world extended far beyond the small village of Wangshan. Afterwards, Fu Shaoping spoke with the clan elder, Fu Laoshuan, and several close children, including Gouwa, offering them words of advice and encouragement. He told Gouwa that studying and understanding principles were fundamental, and that if he ever left the village, he must remember to give back to his community.

With everything arranged, on a clear morning with the first rays of dawn and the sky ablaze with rosy clouds, Fu Shaoping bid farewell to his tearful but reluctant parents. Without disturbing any villagers, he quietly left Wangshan Village with only a simple bag on his back.

He walked along the path behind the village into the deep mountains, his steps unhurried, his figure appearing exceptionally upright in the morning light. He didn't turn back, but his mind could clearly "see" his parents standing at the gate of the courtyard, gazing into the distance for a long time; he could hear the crowing of roosters and barking of dogs gradually rising from the village; and he could feel the peace and vitality emanating from the land to which he had poured three years of his heart and soul.

When they reached a secluded spot, Fu Shaoping stopped. He closed his eyes, immersing his mind in the sea of ​​consciousness, communicating with the scroll of "The Book of a Hundred Generations".

"In the second life, experience the suffering of life, practice the way of creation, protect a piece of land, and when the merits are fulfilled, return home."

With his will, the second page of the "Book of a Hundred Lifetimes" shone brightly. The words and images on it seemed to come alive, radiating a warm glow, absorbing and settling all his experiences, insights, and emotions from this lifetime. He felt his consciousness being drawn away from the body he had lived in for nine years. The blood ties and profound bonds with his parents, his village, and this land slowly receded like a tide, transforming into the purest spiritual nourishment, merging into his immortal Dao heart.

There were no earth-shattering phenomena, only the mountain breeze gently rustling through the treetops, bringing the fresh scent of grass and trees.

When Fu Shaoping "opened" his eyes again, he found himself in a chaotic and hazy space. Before him lay the slowly unfolding third page of the "Book of a Hundred Generations," exuding an even more ancient and profound aura. Everything about Fu Shaoping in his second life in Wangshan Village had become the past, transforming into a bright and warm star on his eternal path.

From a destitute six-year-old boy on the verge of despair to a renowned "little teacher" who brought blessings to the community, he used three years of his life, with his wisdom and compassion, to completely change the fate of a family and a village, and to plant the seeds of knowledge and hope deep in that land.

The hidden dragon has already soared from the abyss, and his hundred lifetimes of reincarnation have only just begun. A new world, a new identity, and new challenges await his arrival on the other side of the page.

The chaotic consciousness slowly coalesced like the receding tide, stripping away the fresh breeze and earthy scent of the mountains and fields, replacing it with a refined and unique fragrance of ink and Xuan paper that permeated the air.

Fu Shaoping "opened" his eyes.

What came into view was no longer the low thatched roofs of Wangshan Village, but a spacious and elegant study. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined all four walls, neatly stacked with thread-bound ancient books and scrolls. A large rosewood desk stood before the window, upon which rested exquisite brush holders, inkstones, brush washers, paperweights, and several scrolls of paintings, their ink still wet. Outside the window, a corner of a pavilion and tower could be seen, with its flying eaves and bracket sets—clearly the home of a wealthy family.

He looked down at himself, wearing a moon-white silk scholar's robe. He looked about twelve or thirteen years old, with slender, fair fingers bearing calluses from years of writing.

Memories of this life flowed into his mind like a gentle stream.

In this life, he was named Shen Mo, a direct descendant of the Shen family, a wealthy and scholarly family in Jiangnan. Although the Shen family was not a powerful and influential family, it was a renowned family of calligraphers and painters that had been passed down for generations. His grandfather, Shen Zhou, was a master painter of his time, famous throughout Jiangnan.

His father in this life, Shen Wenyuan, was a renowned scholar, though not as accomplished in calligraphy and painting as his grandfather. His mother, Madam Su, came from an official family and was well-educated and sensible. Shen Mo displayed remarkable talent in calligraphy and painting from a young age and was regarded as the heir to the Shen family's art, receiving high expectations from the family.

However, unlike his previous life of surviving in the mountains, in this life he faces an invisible constraint from "refinement" and "rules." His family expects him to inherit their scholarly traditions, reach the pinnacle of calligraphy and painting, and bring glory to the family. His daily life consists of copying ancient calligraphy, studying painting manuals, and learning classics and historical texts, preparing for future success in the imperial examinations or artistic fame.

This meticulously planned, lifeless existence felt like a deep constraint on the soul that inherited Fu Shaoping's spirit, which had endured two lifetimes of trials and tribulations and pursued transcendence and a free and unfettered heart.

He walked to his desk and looked at a newly completed copy of a masterpiece of flower-and-bird painting from a previous dynasty. The brushwork was exquisite, the colors elegant, and the form and spirit lifelike—almost indistinguishable from the original. To anyone, it would be a masterpiece that would amaze even his peers.

But Fu Shaoping (Shen Mo) frowned slightly.

This painting, though beautiful, lacks a soul. It perfectly replicates the techniques and artistic conception of its predecessors, but it lacks anything that belongs to "Shen Mo," let alone to Fu Shaoping. It's like a fine piece of porcelain, but without the unique vitality that comes from being tempered in a kiln.

"Mo'er, how's the painting coming along?" A gentle voice sounded from behind.

Fu Shaoping turned around and saw his father, Shen Wenyuan, standing at the doorway, smiling at him. Shen Wenyuan was nearly forty years old, with a lean face and a refined demeanor, his eyes filled with expectations for his son.

"Reporting to Father, the copy is complete." Fu Shaoping (Shen Mo) bowed respectfully, his posture impeccable.

Shen Wenyuan stepped forward and carefully examined the painting, a look of satisfaction in his eyes: "Not bad, your brushwork has improved again, and your grasp of the ancient style is becoming more and more refined. Given time, you will surely surpass your father and reach the level of your grandfather." He patted his son's shoulder, "Remember, in the Shen family's calligraphy and painting, the most important thing is inheritance, and the foundation lies in a deep understanding and skillful application of ancient methods. You must never be overly ambitious and pursue those strange and frivolous techniques, lest you ruin the family tradition."

"Your son will remember your teachings, Father," Fu Shaoping replied with his head bowed, his mind clear and lucid.

He understood his family's expectations and respected his identity and responsibilities in this life. But he also knew that in the cycle of reincarnation, each life was a time for self-cultivation and enlightenment. If he were merely confined to the old ways and repeated predetermined paths, how could he forge the Dao heart that yearned for transcendence and the desire to touch the origin of the Great Dao?

The way of painting is also one of the great paths. Between brush and ink, one can conceal mountains and rivers, contain the universe, express one's feelings, and question one's true self.

What he needs is not to reach the ultimate on the established path, but to use painting as a medium to forge his own "path".

Shen Wenyuan offered a few more words of encouragement before leaving the study. (End of Chapter)