The Three Teachings Converge into One: The Path of the Mortal and the Saintly is the Same

Poetry:

A lone oar carries me across the misty waves, bidding farewell to my old home; a young man, carrying his books, heads towards the Daoist path.

Suddenly, I encountered a hermit in the dust at the ferry crossing, and I began to believe that there was a karmic connection from a previous life.

In the fourth year of Jinghe, on the sixteenth day of early summer, as dawn broke and the morning mist dissipated, outside Qingxi Town in Jiangnan, along the Qingxi River, the water vapor, like a veil, shrouded the flowing water. Willows on the banks drooped, glistening with morning dew, swaying gently in the breeze, as if tugging at the clothes of a young man on a long journey.

Su Qingxuan wore a long blue cloth robe and carried a book box on his back, containing writing brushes, ink, and scrolls. Close to his body were the three ancestral treasures of the Su family: a fragment of the Confucian classics, a small bronze seal, and an ancient withered tree. He walked steadily with his back straight. Although he was only nine years old, he showed no signs of childish anxiety. Only his eyes were clear as he looked towards the river bend ferry, the first step on his journey from Jiangnan to Qingxu Temple.

Since bidding farewell to his parents this morning and promising to meet Chi Ying (Zhang Atao) again in the martial world, Su Qingxuan has no more ties in his heart, only a firm resolve to follow the Dao. He knows that this journey is long and uncertain, with no servants or carriages to accompany him, only himself, relying on his Confucian integrity and a heart full of lofty aspirations, to step into the unknown martial world. The Qingxu Temple, hidden deep in the mountains and where a Daoist master lives, as described by his neighbors, is his first stop on his journey, and also his first step in knocking on the door of Daoism and exploring the common origin of the three religions.

As he traveled, the streets and alleys were quiet, most of the villagers still fast asleep, broken only by the occasional crowing of roosters in the dawn. He walked past the fields where he used to play, past the cold bay where he often watched fish, past the Shen family's gate, past the neighborhood lanes. All those past events passed by like smoke and rain, not lingering in his mind. He only remembered his father's admonition to "guard his heart, uphold righteousness, and be good," the old monk's teaching to "have no attachment to the heart," and his own vow to save the world and his mission to unify the three religions.

Before long, Qingxi Ferry came into view.

A light mist drifted across the river, the water murmured gently, and a few water birds skimmed across the surface, their wingtips breaking the surface and creating ripples. On the stone pier of the ferry stood an old man dressed in a coarse cloth shirt and wearing a straw hat, holding a bamboo pole. He was the ferryman who ferried people across the river every day, and the one who had once enlightened him with the words, "Each should be in his place, fulfill his responsibilities, and keep to his heart."

When the old man saw Su Qingxuan walking slowly towards him, a knowing smile flashed in his cloudy eyes, as if he had been waiting for a long time.

Upon seeing this, Su Qingxuan was slightly surprised. He quickly stepped forward, bowed, and said in a gentle and respectful tone, "Good morning, sir. Qingxuan greets you here."

The old man at the ferry put down his bamboo pole, returned the greeting with a smile, and said in his usual calm and gentle voice, "Young friend, there's no need for such formalities. I know you're leaving your hometown for a long journey today, so I've been waiting here to see you off."

Su Qingxuan was even more surprised: "How did you know that I was going on a long journey today?" He had just made a travel date with his parents last night and had not made it public. Among the neighbors, only his neighbor Chi Ying was young and ignorant. Perhaps he had let some news slip, but it was unlikely that it would reach his father's ears.

The old man stroked his beard and laughed, "I have been ferrying people here for decades, witnessing the clear streams and the affairs of this town. Recently, your virtue has influenced the village, and your Taoist heart has grown stronger. You have been confined to this small town for too long, and signs of your departure are already evident. Even if I were to sit with my eyes closed, I could guess seven or eight parts of it. Moreover, I know a little about the Qingxu Temple you are going to. I am waiting for you here today, firstly to see you off, and secondly to point out the way for you, so that you will not go astray in your youth and waste your time."

Hearing this, Su Qingxuan felt a warmth in his heart and bowed again: "Thank you for your concern, sir. I am deeply grateful."

The old man waved his hand, leading him onto the boat. The covered boat was moored on the shore, its hull weathered but clean and tidy; it was the old man's daily means of ferrying people across the river for a living. Once Su Qingxuan was settled, the old man used his pole to gently push the boat away from the ferry, cutting through the river mist and drifting downstream.

As the boat glides across the water, a gentle breeze caresses the face, carrying the refreshing scent of the river. Willows and painted bridges lining both banks, white walls and black tiles, gradually recede into the distance, and the outline of Qingxi Town becomes increasingly hazy in the thin mist.

The old man stood at the bow of the boat, punting forward, his gaze fixed on the distant flowing water. He slowly spoke, "Young friend, you are on a long journey to seek the Dao at Qingxu Temple. I will tell you the truth. Qingxu Temple is not in Jiangnan, but in the northern frontier, deep in the Langya Mountains. The mountains are high, the roads are long, the waters are wide, and the forests are deep. Heading north, you will first pass Pingjiang Prefecture, then cross the Yangtze River, enter the Huai and Si regions, and continue north. Then follow the ancient road into the mountains, and only when you reach the depths of the clouds halfway up the mountain will you see the temple gate. The person in charge of the temple, whose Daoist name is Xuanqing, is a reclusive master who is well-versed in Daoist principles and has profound cultivation. Even I, an old man, have great respect for him."

Su Qingxuan sat upright in the cabin, listening intently, memorizing every detail of the route and directions the old man described, not daring to miss a single detail. He looked up at the old man, his doubts deepening: "Since you know the way to Qingxu Temple and are acquainted with the masters within, you are surely no ordinary ferryman. May I dare ask, sir, where do you come from?"

He was intelligent from a young age and cultivated the Confucian mind techniques, giving him a perception far beyond that of ordinary people. When he first met the old man, he felt that the old man had an extraordinary demeanor, unlike an ordinary boatman; today, when they met again, the old man saw through his intention to travel far away with a single sentence, and also knew the Taoist temple in the deep mountains like the back of his hand, there must be a hidden reason behind it.

Upon hearing this, the old man paused slightly in his pole-pole position, looked up at the thin mist on the horizon, as if recalling past events. After a long while, he sighed softly, his voice tinged with vicissitudes, and slowly said, "I am not from Jiangnan, nor was I born a ferryman. In my youth, I admired the Dao and despised the mundane world, so I bid farewell to my parents and went to the deep mountains of the north to cultivate. I became a disciple of the Dao and chanted scriptures and meditated every day, practicing breathing exercises and refining my Qi. My only wish was to live a long and carefree life, and I also made a great vow to comprehend the Dao of Heaven and Earth and transcend the cycle of birth and death."

A glint flashed in Su Qingxuan's eyes. He sat upright, focused his mind, and listened quietly, not daring to interrupt.

"My place of cultivation is not far from the northern border, a place of high mountains and dense forests, rarely visited by people. I could have peacefully cultivated myself and remained detached from worldly affairs. However, the times were turbulent, war broke out everywhere, the barbarian horses marched south, smoke filled the land, people were displaced, and my cultivation ground was also affected by the war. That day, I went down the mountain to gather herbs and happened to witness soldiers looting. I saw a weak woman being chased by the soldiers and was almost killed by their swords. I took pity on her and rescued her, taking her with me to safety."

The old man's voice was calm, yet it held endless vicissitudes. The boat sailing on the flowing water seemed to be softly reciting this past event.

"In chaotic times, human life is as fragile as a mustard seed. The two of us depended on each other for survival, fleeing south all the way to escape the ravages of war. We endured wind and rain, sleeping in the open, and went through countless hardships before finally arriving at Qingxi Town in Jiangnan. Jiangnan is peaceful and the atmosphere is warm and welcoming, so we settled down here. The woman was gentle and kind, and she shared my hardships. Over time, we fell in love. My worldly desires were stirred, and my Taoist resolve was hard to maintain. So I simply abandoned my Taoist robes, returned to secular life, and started a family. I made a living by ferrying people across the river, and I have been doing this for decades. My grand aspirations for immortality could not withstand the warmth of human life, nor could they withstand a lifetime of companionship. So I became a boatman at the Qingxi ferry crossing today."

After speaking, the old man sighed deeply, his voice carrying a hint of relief and a touch of melancholy: "In my youth, I sought the Dao, single-mindedly pursuing immortality, believing that the Dao resided in the deep mountains, in the void, and in eternal life; but in middle age, I realized that it also exists in the human world, in companionship, and in fulfilling one's duty. I have been guarding this river, ferrying others and myself, day after day, year after year. Although I have not become an immortal or attained the Dao, I have remained true to my heart and found peace and contentment. I can say that I have not lived in vain."

Upon hearing this, Su Qingxuan was filled with emotion and remained silent for a long time.

He never imagined that this seemingly ordinary old man, who ferried people across the river every day, had such a past. He was once a Taoist disciple with a heart set on immortality and aspiring to cultivate himself, but a war, an act of kindness, and a romantic encounter altered his life's trajectory, transforming him from a reclusive Taoist into a ferryman in the mortal world. His youthful ambitions were ultimately swept away by fate, falling into the dust of human life—a fate that evokes a deep sigh.

The word "fate" is truly mysterious and unpredictable.

Life is like a boat sailing on water. We may think our course is set and the road ahead clear, but a sudden storm, a chance encounter, or an unexpected event can easily change our course, leading us to entirely different shores. The old man, in his youth, sought the Tao in the mountains, his heart steadfast and his ambitions lofty. Yet, at a crossroads of fate, he chose human warmth and returned to secular life. From the perspective of Tao, perhaps it was an unfinished journey, an incomplete path; from the perspective of the human heart, it was upholding good intentions and achieving fulfillment. Each has its own cause and effect; it's difficult to judge right or wrong.

Su Qingxuan gazed at the flowing water outside the boat, his thoughts churning as he pondered to himself.

He studied Confucianism from a young age, later realizing the common origin of the three religions (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism). He harbored a great ambition to save the world and a mission to unify the three religions and explore the secrets of his ancestors. He did not believe in destiny, nor in the inevitability of fate, nor did he believe that his own Taoist heart would be disturbed by worldly affairs. The old man's experience was certainly moving, but it was by no means the path for him.

He knew that he was different from others from birth. He could recognize a thousand characters at the age of three, recite the Zhenguan Poems at the age of five, master the Four Books at the age of seven, and his Daoist heart was strengthened by the humiliation of being rejected by the Shen family at the age of eight. He heard the sound of Zen at the age of nine and made a great vow to save the world. Then, the three ancestral objects of the Su family resonated with his own aura. In the dark, there was a force that guided him to embark on the path of seeking the Dao.

This is not a fate we passively accept, but an innate mission.

His path is not about self-cultivation or escaping the world, but about benefiting all under heaven, unifying the three teachings (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism), and allowing them to blend and communicate without sectarianism or factional disputes. He seeks to unify all things in the universe, enabling all people to share in the righteous path. He wants the world to know that the three teachings share a common origin, and all things return to the same principle. Whether it's the Confucian ideal of cultivating the mind, the Taoist pursuit of self-cultivation, or the Buddhist path of enlightenment, the ultimate goal is to cultivate a benevolent heart and follow a righteous path to benefit the world.

This aspiration is grand and unprecedented in history. People of this era may not dare to think of it or be able to do it. The road ahead will surely be full of thorns and obstacles, and they may not even be able to see the whole picture in their entire lives.

But his mind was made up, and he would never back down, no matter how long and arduous the road ahead.

Like the Foolish Old Man Who Moved Mountains, if he couldn't succeed in this life, he would pass it on to future generations. From his generation onward, in addition to the family tradition of farming and studying, the Su family added another legacy—the unification of the three teachings (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism). Generation after generation, endlessly, one day, they will surely achieve this goal.

In his heart, all living beings under heaven are one, without any distinction between them. Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism all originate from this world, sharing the same spiritual energy and the well-being of all living beings. Why should we distinguish between superior and inferior? If one day he can cultivate the supreme Tao, he will use himself as a bridge to integrate the principles of the three religions and combine the strengths of all methods, so that disciples of the three religions can live in harmony, that cultivation methods can help the world and save all beings, and that the world can be at peace, without any more disputes or prejudices.

At this moment, he has only taken his first step into Confucianism, has not yet entered Taoism, and has not even come into contact with Buddhism; everything is still at the starting point. The road ahead is long and arduous, so he should not be impatient or hasty, but take each step carefully and steadily; with each awakening and enlightenment, he will draw closer to the Great Way every day.

Having grasped this point, Su Qingxuan felt a sudden sense of clarity. His previous confusion vanished completely, and his Dao heart became even more steadfast. The vast and righteous energy within his dantian flowed spontaneously, merging with the aura of the ancestral artifact he kept close to his body, making his entire being increasingly peaceful and transparent.

He looked up at the old man at the ferry, bowed deeply, and spoke in a firm and steady voice, as if carrying the weight of a thousand pounds: "Old man, your experiences have enlightened me. Everyone's encounters in life are due to their own reasons. Old man, by upholding good intentions and fulfilling your duties, you have helped others and yourself, which is also a form of spiritual practice. I am not confused by fate, nor trapped by the road ahead. I only know to guard my heart and follow the Way, to help the world and bring peace to the people, to unite the three religions, and to live up to my mission in this life. Even if I go through countless tribulations, I will not change my heart or lose my will."

Upon hearing this, the old man's eyes flashed with a hint of surprise, which quickly turned into deep admiration. He stood poling on the ground, gazing at the boy before him. This nine-year-old child possessed such a broad mind and such a steadfast Dao heart; he was truly born with extraordinary spiritual talent, a rare sight indeed. His own Dao heart back then was far inferior to that of this boy. His hiding at the ferry crossing to wait for him to see him off was also a preordained destiny.

He stroked his beard and laughed heartily, his voice echoing across the river and startling several water birds: "Excellent! Excellent in fulfilling your mission! Excellent in unifying the three teachings! Young friend, with such ambition and such a heart for the Dao, you will surely attain the Great Dao in the future. Today, I will give you a secret saying: The Dao is under your feet, the heart is in your chest. Refine your heart in the mortal world, and you will see the true path. On your journey north, remember to maintain emptiness and stillness, without arrogance or impatience; do not be angry when encountering evil, nor arrogant when encountering good; return to simplicity and truth, guard the center and embrace oneness, this is called uniting with the Dao."

Su Qingxuan nodded solemnly: "This junior will keep your teachings in mind, sir."

As they spoke, the awning boat had already reached the lower reaches of the river bend, far from the territory of Qingxi Town. The waterway ahead was wide open, allowing them to transfer to a larger boat and head north across the river to the Huai and Si regions. The old man steered the boat to the shore, secured the bamboo pole, and helped Su Qingxuan step onto the new bank.

Su Qingxuan, carrying his baggage, stood on the shore and bowed deeply to the old man once more: "I will forever remember your kindness in seeing me off and your guidance. Farewell, and I hope we will meet again in Jiangnan someday."

The old man waved his hand and said calmly, "Go, young man, the road ahead is vast, the great path lies before you, do not betray your original aspirations, do not waste this life."

Su Qingxuan said no more, turned and strode northward. His figure in the green robe gradually disappeared into the morning light and willows, leaving only a firm footprint imprinted on the soil of Jiangnan.

The old man at the ferry stood at the bow of the boat, watching the boy's departing figure. After a long while, he sighed softly, poled around, and the awning boat once again sailed into the clear stream, returning to the mundane world, as if that Taoist past had never existed, nor had this farewell ever happened.

As the sun rises, its golden rays bathe the earth. Springtime in Jiangnan is in full bloom. A young man, carrying his books and aspirations to explore the three religions, and bearing the ancestral artifacts of the Su family, sets off step by step into the deep mountains of Jiangbei, towards the Qingxu Taoist Temple, embarking on a magnificent journey where the mortal and the sacred coexist.

It is:

He left his hometown with a clear conscience, and a recluse in the dust pointed out the way for him.

The young man, harboring lofty ambitions, traveled ten thousand miles in search of the Way, only now beginning his inquiry.