Dao Qi Wu Zang Guan Guan: I became a Daoist Master in the 1990s

Chapter 195 A Bowl of Mutton Soup
As night deepened, the ancient city of Xiangyang gradually sank into a damp stillness.

The rain had just stopped, and the sky was as dark as ink. Only the raindrops remaining on the eaves fell one by one onto the bluestone slabs, splashing up a faint, clear sound that echoed deep into the desolate street.

The shops along the street had long since turned off their lights, their wooden doors were tightly shut, and only a few windows let out a few sparse halos of light, reflecting the desolation after the people had left.

At the end of the long street, an old lantern hangs under a raised cloth banner, swaying gently in the wind. Its dim yellow light ripples like water, illuminating a small corner of the world.

It was a stall selling mutton soup.

The stove was set up under the eaves, and a deep pot was bubbling and steaming. The rising white mist carried the warm aroma of mutton and spices, spreading in the cool night breeze.

The stall owner was an elderly man with slightly graying temples. He was bending over and stirring the soup pot, his figure appearing particularly silent under the lantern.

Occasionally, late-night pedestrians would hunch their shoulders and walk by, their footsteps sounding particularly clear on the damp stones, which only served to emphasize how long the night had gone.

A large earthenware soup pot sits on a clay stove, with thick white steam rising from the edge of the lid. The rich and mellow aroma of meat, mixed with a hint of warm and spicy chili, permeates the chilly air.

The old man, wearing a cloth apron, was skillfully using a long-handled iron hook to lift the pot lid.

In an instant, even more surging hot steam billowed out, carrying an extremely fresh and rich aroma.

The milky white broth in the pot was still boiling, with large chunks of mutton with bones floating in it, cooked until tender and with an enticing color.

The old man reached in with his long chopsticks and precisely picked up a large piece of leg meat still attached to the tendons. When he took it out of the pot, the rich juices dripped down the plump meat.

The chunks of meat were placed on a heavy elmwood cutting board. He picked up a thick-backed, thin-bladed slicing knife with his other hand, and with a swift, rhythmic "thud," the knife fell with a steady, rhythmic sound.

As the knife cuts through the meat, the distinct muscle fibers separate, and the slices are cut into evenly thick pieces, each slightly translucent with a sheen of fat, steaming hot.

Two large, coarse earthenware bowls were already prepared, and the chopped mutton was quickly piled into the bottom of the bowls, making them look very high.

Then, the old man picked up a long-handled wooden ladle, plunged it deep into the boiling soup pot, and steadily scooped up a spoonful of the rich, snow-white broth. With his wrist raised high, a scalding, milky-white waterfall cascaded down, precisely into the bowl, causing the slices of meat at the bottom of the bowl to tremble slightly. The rich aroma, forced by the heat, exploded out with a bang.

Then, the old man picked up a small handful of tender green scallions, and with a flash of his knife, sprinkled the scallion powder onto the soup like snowflakes, the emerald green adorning the milky white, a truly beautiful sight.

Finally, he pulled out two golden-brown and crispy sesame seed cakes from the oven. The cakes were round with fine cracks on the surface, revealing layers of dough inside that had absorbed the aroma of the oven fire.

"Esteemed Taoist priests, please be careful as your soup and flatbread are hot."

The old man brought two large bowls of mutton soup and a bamboo basket filled with sesame flatbread to the only two guests, his voice carrying a simple and warm feeling.

Qi Yun and Zhang Daoyun sat facing each other.

Qi Yun smiled and nodded to the old man, thanking him.

He first lowered his head and took a deep sniff of the fragrance that wafted towards him.

It's a rich flavor derived from simmering lamb bones over a low flame, where the meat and fat meld together, and it carries a subtle spiciness.

He picked up the earthenware spoon, scooped up a spoonful of soup, gently blew away some of the heat, and put it in his mouth.

The first sensation on the tongue is the scalding heat and rich flavor of the soup. Then, a perfectly balanced spiciness emerges subtly, not abruptly, but rather like the finishing touch, making the umami flavor even more distinct.

A warm sensation descended from the throat to the lower abdomen, then spread to every part of the body, making one sigh softly and feel completely comfortable.

Pick up another slice of mutton, stewed to perfection. It melts in your mouth with just a slight touch, the fat and lean meat are rich and flavorful, yet there is no gamey taste, only a mouthful of tenderness and sweetness.

Break open the baked flatbread, and the aroma of caramelizes it. The inside is soft and chewy. Dip it in the soup for a moment, let it soak up the delicious broth, and then put it in your mouth. The aroma of the bread, the meat, and the soup blend together perfectly, creating the most comforting and satisfying taste in the world.

After drinking several sips, a light sweat appeared on his forehead, and the chill in his body was completely dispelled.

Qi Yun put down his spoon, looked at Zhang Daoyun who was also eating intently across from him, and couldn't help but smile slightly: "Qin Xiao, go back and report that the prefect will most likely host a banquet to invite you."

Delicacies from land and sea, fine wines and delicacies, are far superior to these street stalls.
Why doesn't Fellow Daoist Zhang attend the banquet, but instead comes here with me to eat this coarse food?

Upon hearing this, Zhang Daoyun stopped what he was doing, picked up a cloth and wiped the corner of his mouth. A clear smile appeared on his young face, and his eyes were as clean as the sky after a rain.

"Master Qi is too kind. The prefect's banquet is naturally very proper, with a wide array of delicacies. However, I am a person outside the secular world, and I am used to simple meals as I follow my master in his cultivation."

In such settings, amidst clinking glasses and witty remarks, one can actually feel constrained.

Nothing compares to this bowl of hot soup and this flatbread; they bring me comfort and satisfaction.

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the quiet streets, and said calmly, "Besides, for cultivators, the desire for food and drink is a trivial matter."

The lively atmosphere and down-to-earth charm of this place are also a kind of worldly experience.

Attending a banquet is for social interaction, but attending this event is for self-cultivation.

"I feel that the peace and tranquility I find here with you, Master, as we watch the twilight unfold and savor this bowl of hot soup, far surpasses any grand banquet."

As Qi Yun listened, a faint hint of appreciation and a deeper sigh flashed across his eyes.

The Zhang Daoyun before me was simple and honest, with a pure and clear Daoist heart, a far cry from the ferocious image of him in later generations, who was filled with malevolence, had fallen into the path of demons, and whose hands were stained with the blood of the common people.

The dislocation of time and the mystery of cause and effect are beyond compare.

He pondered for a moment, then said meaningfully, "Fellow Daoist Zhang has a clear mind and is not bound by external things, which is very good."

The world may seem prosperous and vibrant at times, but in reality, it may conceal hidden dangers. One wrong step can lead to an abyss.

Especially for those of us who cultivate, the difference in our thoughts often lies between the realms of immortals and demons.

Zhang Daoyun looked slightly puzzled, put down the sesame seed cake, and said seriously, "Please enlighten me, Daoist Master." Qi Yun's gaze was distant, "I wouldn't call it enlightenment, just some reflections."

I have traveled far and wide and have seen many practitioners. In the beginning, they all had the pure heart of children and were determined to seek the Great Dao.

However, as time passes, or due to insurmountable obstacles and approaching the end of one's lifespan; or due to external temptations and the arising of inner demons; or due to excessively deep attachments and disregard for human ethics... ultimately, a single misstep leads to the abandonment of a lifetime of pure cultivation, the practice of evil and heretical methods, harming both oneself and others, resulting in eternal damnation.

He looked at Zhang Daoyun with a deep gaze: "For example, in order to seek a sliver of hope or to wait for a potentially hopeless outcome, they are willing to fall into the path of ghosts, thinking that they can temporarily preserve their spiritual consciousness."

Little did I know that the evil magic had corrupted my heart, and I was no longer myself.

By the time they come to their senses, they are often already burdened with blood debts, and there is no turning back.

Not only has his own path to enlightenment been ruined, but he has also tarnished the reputation of his sect and caused the deaths of innocent people. Even his death cannot atone for his sins.

Zhang Daoyun listened with a solemn expression and a slight frown, clearly shaken by the terrifying path described in Qi Yun's words.

He paused for a moment, then solemnly said, "What the Taoist priest said is truly enlightening."

I have noted this down. The path of cultivation should be as fraught with peril as walking on thin ice; maintaining a righteous mind is fundamental.

Any shortcut or unorthodox approach is ultimately a mirage, and the cost far exceeds expectations.

If one truly reaches the end of their lifespan before achieving their goals, it is simply the will of Heaven. Forcing it will be futile, and one should not let it corrupt their character or lead them astray.

Qi Yun nodded, knowing that Zhang Daoyun was intelligent and had already understood the implied meaning. Although he did not know the specifics, he had already planted a seed of vigilance in his heart.

He stopped talking and instead asked, "Fellow Daoist, having tracked the Thieves here, what do you know about this group of remnants?"

When the conversation turned to serious matters, Zhang Daoyun perked up and said, "According to the records of our sect, the Thieves' Sect is not a monolithic entity. It has many internal factions, but throughout history, the 'Colorful Play Sect' has always been at its core."

Because his disciples are most skilled in illusion and disguise, they mingle in the streets and are impossible to guard against.

Therefore, the leader of the Thieves' Guild has always been the leader of the Playful Tricks Guild, who is known in the martial arts world as "The Master of Magic," and is extremely mysterious!

His tone grew heavier: "Thirty years ago, thieves were rampant, even attempting to steal the fortune of a nation, incurring the wrath of heaven and the resentment of the people."

At that time, many masters from both Buddhism and Taoism joined forces, and it took them several years and considerable effort to wipe out its main forces.

It is said that the process was extremely tragic and tortuous, with the thieves employing all sorts of tricks and traps, resulting in serious injuries or even deaths of many senior masters.

I thought I had eradicated the threat completely, but unexpectedly, some remnants lurked and resurfaced.

"As for Jinshan Temple," Zhang Daoyun continued, "it is a famous ancient Zen temple in Jingchu, with a long history and flourishing incense offerings."

The current abbot, Master Liaokong, is of profound virtue and has mastered Buddhist teachings. He has a long-standing relationship with my teacher, the abbot of Qingwei Temple.

It is said that this Lotus Flower Dharma Assembly is presided over by Master Liaokong, who has invited monks and laypeople from all directions. The aim is to use the immense power of Buddhism to calm the Han River, pacify the region, and deliver the souls of the deceased. The assembly is scheduled to take place in ten days.

"Oh? Master Liaokong..." Qi Yun seemed to be thinking.

With Jinshan Temple guarding Xiangyang Prefecture, the thieves would probably not dare to easily sneak into the city and cause trouble.

Zhang Daoyun analyzed, "The reason I came here is firstly to pay a respectful visit to Master Kong and inquire about the strange events that have occurred recently."

Secondly, he wanted to secretly investigate the whereabouts of the thieves' gang in the nearby prefectures and counties. "Master Qi..."

He looked at Qi Yun with anticipation in his eyes: "This humble Taoist intends to go to Jinshan Temple tonight to stay overnight, and may also introduce you to Master Kong."

"The Daoist's cultivation is profound. If you would be willing to accompany me, you will surely have a pleasant conversation with Master Liaokong. What do you think?"

Qi Yun smiled slightly and politely declined, saying, "Thank you for your kind offer, fellow Daoist."

I am used to a life of leisure and a hermitage, and I am not used to the strict rules of the temple.

I have other plans tonight, so I will not be traveling with you, fellow Daoist.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Daoyun felt somewhat regretful, but he did not insist. He smiled freely and said, "Since that's the case, I won't force you."

Today, I am joining the Taoist priest in vanquishing evil and sharing a meal with him; it is truly a joyous occasion.

I hope that in the future, by some chance, I will be able to meet and discuss the Dao with you, Master.

By this time, both of them had finished their soup noodles, and they felt warm all over.

The rain has completely stopped, with only occasional drips from the eaves.

Qi Yun stood up, placed a few copper coins on the table, and bowed to Zhang Daoyun, saying, "It is fate."

Fellow Daoist, take care.

"Take care, Daoist Master." Zhang Daoyun stood up and returned the greeting.

The two smiled at each other and parted ways under the warm, dim lamplight, in front of the still-fragrant street stalls.

Zhang Daoyun turned around, his figure disappearing into the deepening night, heading towards Jinshan Temple outside the city.

Qi Yun stood alone for a moment, gazing in the direction where the figure had disappeared, his eyes deep and unfathomable.

A night breeze swept by, carrying the freshness of the rain and the lingering warmth of mutton.

(End of this chapter)