Stone Fairy!

The days that followed seemed to slow down.

Daozhen learned that his senior brother had another name, Xuanjing, and people coming and going from the Taoist temple would respectfully call him Xuanjing Zhenren.

Daozhen still loved the sunrise and moonrise, and would often sit cross-legged on the edge of the cliff, under the Bodhi tree.

Master Xuanjing taught Daozhen from the beginning, from recognizing characters to speaking, just like his master had taught him.

Daozhen was born with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, and he learned things extremely quickly. In just over a month, he could recognize all the commonly used characters, and in another half month, he could recite short sentences. By the third month, he could hold a scripture and recite an entire passage without missing a single word.

However, Daozhen still did not understand those complex emotions.

For example, Daozhen didn't understand why his senior brother often took him to burn incense at a green grave behind the Taoist temple.

It was clearly just the body of his master inside; his master was no longer there, neither in that body nor in this Taoist temple. Daozhen had sensed it, and there was no trace of his master's presence anywhere.

But every time my senior brother went, he had to stand for a long time.

Sometimes my senior brother would speak, saying things that Daozhen didn't quite understand.

"Daozhen has learned another scripture today."

"The locust flowers at the foot of the mountain are in bloom. You used to love making wine from locust flowers."

"The Taoist temple has renovated another side hall, and the incense offerings are more plentiful than last year."

"..."

Daozhen stood to the side, watching his senior brother place the incense sticks into the incense burner in front of the grave, watching the wisps of smoke rise, watching his senior brother's figure become somewhat blurred in the smoke.

One day, someone came from the foot of the mountain.

It was a woman, holding a child who was five or six years old in her arms.

The child's face was bluish, and he was breathing rapidly, as if something was blocking his airway.

Master Xuanjing glanced at the child, then gently pressed his hand against the child's chest a few times, a faint wisp of light seeping into it from his fingertips. After a moment, the child coughed up a breath of stale air, and his complexion gradually returned to normal.

The woman knelt on the ground and kowtowed. The Immortal of the Suspended Mirror helped her up, and the woman left, expressing her gratitude profusely.

Daozhen watched as the child gradually regained color in the woman's arms, and watched as the woman's panic upon entering the room turned into joy upon leaving.

He didn't understand why he felt a slight, gentle happiness when he saw the child open his eyes and cry again. It was like a breeze rippled across the water.

Later, such days became more and more frequent.

People from the foot of the mountain came to visit, some seeking medical help, some asking for divination, some inquiring about their future, and some asking for nothing but to offer incense.

Master Xuanjing received each person individually and never refused them.

Daozhen sat under the Bodhi tree, watching people come and go.

Those people sometimes notice him.

"Master Xuanjing, who is this...?"

"My junior brother."

"Your junior brother's eyes seem to have witnessed thousands of years of history."

The Master of the Suspended Mirror smiled but said nothing.

Several more years passed.

One day, the Immortal Xuanjing brought back a child from the foot of the mountain.

The child was about seven or eight years old, as thin as a stick, with a dirty face, except for a pair of bright black eyes. He followed behind Master Xuanjing, glancing back down the mountain every few steps, but never ran away.

"Daozhen," said the Master of Suspended Mirror, "this is your nephew, named Ayu."

Daozhen looked at the child, and the child looked at him.

"Ayu," Master Xuanjing squatted down and patted the child's shoulder, "this is your martial uncle."

Ayu opened his mouth, his voice very soft: "Uncle-Master."

Daozhen's smile was somewhat stiff as he nodded.

But he remembered the child's aura, which was very similar to that of his senior brother when he first appeared on the cliff.

Small, soft, and warm, like a newly lit fire.

From then on, Ayu stayed in the Taoist temple.

The Master of Suspended Mirror taught Ayu to recognize characters, just as his master had taught him, and he had taught Daozhen.

Ayu learns very slowly; he has to read a word dozens of times to remember it, and even then, he forgets it after a couple of days.

Master Xuanjing was never in a hurry; if he forgot something, he would teach it again; if he made a mistake, he would recite it again.

Daozhen, watching from the side, suddenly recalled how his senior brother used to sit next to him long ago, holding a scripture that was bigger than his head and reciting it haltingly.

Back then, my senior brother was just as slow.

Ayu and Daozhen gradually became acquainted.

He liked to follow Daozhen around. When Daozhen sat meditating under the Bodhi tree, he would squat beside him and play with pebbles. When Daozhen went to the cliff to look at the sea of ​​clouds, he would lie on the edge of the cliff and look down. Every time, Daozhen would grab him by the back of his collar and pull him back. When Daozhen chanted sutras, he would sit beside him and listen. He would fall asleep while listening, and his head would slowly droop down.

Once, Ayu asked, "Uncle-Master, why don't you like to smile?"

Daozhen thought for a moment and said, "No."

"Can't you even laugh?"

"Won't."

Ayu grinned, revealing a missing front tooth: "Like this, you see, just like this, I'll teach you."

Daozhen looked at Ayu's scrunched-up face, his lips twitched, but he ultimately didn't laugh.

Ayu sighed and said in a condescending tone, "Uncle-Master, you're really stupid."

Daozhen looked at his precocious appearance and suddenly burst out laughing.

"Uncle-Master, you can smile now!" Ayu exclaimed in delight.

Some more days passed.

Ayu learned a scripture and excitedly ran to the Master Xuanjing to recite it to him.

He got stuck halfway through reciting it, and his face turned red with anxiety. Master Xuanjing didn't give him any advice, but just waited patiently.

After thinking for a long time, Ayu finally finished the next line.

After he finished reciting, Master Xuanjing patted his head and said, "You recited it very well."

Ayu then laughed, a very happy laugh, revealing a set of not-so-straight teeth.

Daozhen stood not far away, watching this scene. He suddenly remembered his senior brother who had finished reciting the scriptures a long time ago.

The way my senior brothers laugh back then is different from how they laugh now.

The young senior brother laughed like water flowing from a mountain stream, splashing everywhere.

The current senior brother smiles like an old pine tree on a cliff, only swaying slightly when the wind comes.

Dao Zhen didn't know which one was better; he simply remembered both kinds of laughter.

Time moves slowly in the Taoist temple, but it never stops.

The back of the Mirror Immortal gradually became hunched.

It wasn't sudden, it was gradual. Every time Daozhen returned from the cliff edge, he would feel that his senior brother was a little shorter than the last time he saw him.

My senior brother's hair also started to turn white. At first, it was just his temples, then it spread to the top of his head, and later his entire head was covered with a layer of frost.

Dao Zhen didn't know why people's hair would turn white. He touched his own hair, and it was still black, just like before, unchanged.

Ah Yu is growing taller every day.

From reaching Daozhen's waist, to shoulder height, and then to almost the same height, his voice also changed, from clear to deep.

He began to help Master Xuanjing receive worshippers and started to learn how to handle the affairs of the Taoist temple.

The Master Xuanjing increasingly entrusted him with tasks, while he himself often sat under the Bodhi tree, watching the sea of ​​clouds with Daozhen.

"Daozhen," the Mirror Immortal suddenly spoke one day.

"Um."

"Do you remember the day Master left?"

Daozhen was silent for a moment, then said, "I remember."

"That night, I saw you emerge from the stone. At that moment, I wondered if Master had known this day would come." Master Xuanjing paused. "He named you Daozhen, hoping that you would..."

He didn't continue.

Dao Zhen waited, and waited for a long time, but Master Xuanjing just smiled and said, "Never mind, I won't say anything more."

Daozhen looked at his senior brother's profile.

The setting sun shone on his face, turning his frosty white hair golden. There were many fine lines at the corners of his eyes, and his breathing was not as steady as before.

Daozhen sensed a strange aura that he disliked, for it smelled of decay.

I first smelled it on my master.

Now, he smelled the same scent on his senior brother.

Daozhen lowered his eyes and looked at his hands.

These are human hands, with knuckles, palm lines, and warm blood flowing beneath the skin. But they were once stone, stubborn rocks that had lain on the cliff for countless years.

Stones do not die.

People will.

That night, Master Xuanjing coughed for a long time.

Ayu stood by the bedside with the medicine bowl in her hand, while Master Xuanjing waved his hand, saying, "It's a minor ailment, nothing serious."

Ayu didn't say anything, but simply handed over the medicine bowl.

After finishing his medicine, Master Xuanjing glanced at Ayu and asked, "Where is your martial uncle?"

"Sitting under the Bodhi tree."

"Let him in, it's cold outside."

Ayu went out and saw Daozhen sitting cross-legged under the Bodhi tree, the moonlight shining on him, and a faint radiance flowing around him.

"Uncle-Master, Master wants you to come in."

"good....."

Daozhen stood up and followed Ayu into the house.

Master Xuanjing leaned against the headboard, his complexion even worse than during the day, but when he saw Daozhen enter, he still smiled and said, "Sit down."

Daozhen sat down by the bed.

Master Xuanjing looked at him with a gentle gaze, like the gentleness of moonlight shining on a stone surface.

"Junior brother," he said softly, "it's probably time for me too."

Daozhen didn't speak. He felt something tightening inside his body, like the feeling of rain falling, but much stronger, so strong that he didn't know how to put it down.

"Don't be sad." Master Xuanjing reached out and placed his hand on Daozhen's hand.

The hand was very thin, with prominent knuckles and brown spots on the skin.

Daozhen looked down at the hand and suddenly said, "Senior Brother."

"Um?"

"...I think I know what it means to be sad now."

Master Xuanjing paused for a moment, then smiled, a very soft smile, like the rustling of a Bodhi leaf in the wind, which was gone in an instant.

"That's right." Master Xuanjing gently patted Daozhen's hand, just like he had done a long time ago.

"Junior brother, you've grown up."

Dao Zhen didn't know what to do. He just felt that the tightening force deep inside the stone was getting stronger and stronger, so strong that it was about to burst out from somewhere. He didn't know what would burst out, but he knew that he didn't want his senior brother to leave.

It's the same as it was back then, yet different from it.

The hands of the Mirror Immortal gradually grew cold.

At dawn, the sun rose as usual, and the first rays of light crossed the mountain ridge, falling on the eaves of the Taoist temple, on the leaves of the Bodhi tree, and on the serene face of the Master of Suspended Mirror.

Ayu knelt before the bed, crying loudly, her shoulders trembling.

Daozhen stood there silently watching all of this.

He didn't kneel, he didn't cry, he just stood there for a very long time, until the sunlight moved from the east to the west, until Ayu stood up and said in a hoarse voice, "Uncle-Master, I'm going to prepare for the funeral."

Daozhen nodded.

Ayu left, leaving only Daozhen and Xuanjing Zhenren in the room.

Daozhen walked over and sat down by the bed. He picked up Xuanjing Zhenren's hand, which was completely cold and without any warmth.

Daozhen placed that hand in his palm and looked at it for a long time.

"Senior brother," Daozhen said softly, "you said I've grown up."

"But there are still many things I don't understand."

"For example, why am I still sitting here even though you're not here anymore?"

"For example, when I see Ayu crying, I want to... but I don't know how."

"For example, my hands are warm and your hands are cold, but when I hold your hand, it feels warmer than ever before."

No one answered him.

Daozhen put Xuanjing Zhenren's hand back in its place, stood up, and walked out.

The Immortal of Suspended Mirror was buried next to his master.

Two graves, one old, one new.

The grass on the old graves has grown very tall, while the new graves are still bare yellow earth.

Ayu knelt in front, burning paper money, the firelight illuminating his swollen, red eyes.

Daozhen stood behind, looking at the two graves, at the firelight, and at the wisps of smoke.

He recalled the day his master left, when the sky was ablaze with light, and the light from the horizon echoed it.

That is heaven and earth raising the clouds for those who have attained enlightenment.

But when my senior brother left, there was nothing there; it was just an ordinary morning, and the sun rose as usual.

Dao Zhen doesn’t understand.

My master cultivated Tao for a lifetime, and was greeted by a radiant glow at the end of his life. My senior brother also cultivated for a lifetime, so why did he receive nothing?

Ayu stood up at some point, his voice hoarse, "Master said that those who attain enlightenment are felt by Heaven and Earth. Ordinary people, once gone, are simply gone."

"Senior brother is no ordinary person."

"In the eyes of heaven and earth, he is."

Daozhen fell silent; he seemed to know why.

My senior brother never thought about attaining enlightenment.

In his entire life, he only guarded a Taoist temple, a stone, and a young apprentice.

When his master passed away, he stayed to guard him in his place. He stayed until the very end, then passed away quietly, without disturbing heaven and earth or anyone else.

Daozhen stood in front of the grave all night.

Ayu advised him to go and rest, but he refused. So Ayu stayed with him, and the two stood one in front of the other, neither of them saying a word.

The moonlight shone on the two graves, on the Bodhi tree, and on the empty spot on the cliff edge.

As dawn approached, Daozhen suddenly moved.

He walked to the grave, squatted down, and reached out to touch the yellow earth on the grave mound. The earth was cool and covered with morning dew.

He touched the soil, just like his senior brother had touched him when he was still a small child a long time ago.

Daozhen's hand stopped in the soil. He felt something surging up from his body, something he had never experienced before, coming from the things he had remembered his whole life, and it flowed all the way to his eyes.

Then, a tear fell from Daozhen's eye, landing on the yellow earth and spreading into a small dark patch.

Daozhen was stunned and raised his hand to touch his face.

Ayu sniffed softly from behind: "Uncle-Master, you're crying."

Daozhen knelt before the grave, his robes covered in yellow dust. He didn't cry out, but let the tears stream down his face, falling drop by drop onto the grave mound.

The sky gradually brightened.

Daozhen remembered what his senior brother hadn't said that day, and that his master had named him Daozhen.

He didn't understand before, but now he does.

The so-called Tao is not in the heavens, but in the hand that his master covered his face with, in his senior brother patting his stone face and saying "Grow up quickly", in Ayu's grin revealing his missing teeth, and in this tear that finally flowed out.

Daozhen stood up, the yellow dust on his robes falling in a flurry. He turned and glanced at Ayu, who was looking at him with red and swollen eyes.

"Ayu," Daozhen said, his voice a little hoarse but steady, "you guard the Taoist temple."

"Uncle-Master, where are you going?"

Daozhen turned his head to look outside the cliff.

The sea of ​​clouds continued to roll, and the distant mountain ridges continued to stretch endlessly.

He used to lie on the cliff, only able to perceive what lay beyond. Later, he transformed into a human, sat under the Bodhi tree, and with those eyes saw those mountains.

But he never went over there.

"Let's go for a walk," Daozhen said.

Daozhen walked towards the edge of the cliff, took a few steps, then stopped and looked back.

Two graves, a Bodhi tree, and an old Taoist temple.

Daozhen watched for a long time, memorizing everything, not with his senses, but with his eyes and his beating heart.

Daozhen walked down the mountain path step by step.

A mountain breeze blew from behind, carrying the rustling sound of Bodhi leaves, as if bidding him farewell.

The rising sun laid out a golden path before Daozhen, stretching from the cliff into the distance.

That is the human world.