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

Poetry:

Undisturbed by worldly noise, the innocent heart opens; in stillness, one understands the true nature of sages.

Having seen the world and its people, my Confucian roots are quietly growing, awaiting the winds and thunder.

After Shen Wanshan and his wife, relying on their power, broke off the engagement, threw silver at the family, and left with Shen Jing'er, an unspeakable silence fell over the Su family courtyard. The wind rustled the osmanthus leaves, and the ten-tael silver ingot on the stone table gleamed with a cold, hard light, like the sharp edges of worldly snobbery, pricking at people's hearts. Su Wenyuan wept, lamenting his family's decline and his inability to protect his son; Liu Shi, her eyes red, gently comforted her husband, but her eyes held a deep tenderness for her young son. Only Su Qingxuan stood under the eaves, his blue robe fluttering in the wind, his clear eyes devoid of resentment, grievance, or anger, only taking in the coldness of the world and the fickleness of human relationships, etching them into his heart.

From a young age, he was well-versed in Confucian classics, including the Analects' "Wealth and honor obtained unjustly are to me like floating clouds," Mencius' "Wealth and honor cannot corrupt me, poverty and hardship cannot sway me, and power and force cannot subdue me," and the Doctrine of the Mean's "A gentleman is cautious even when alone, and does not deceive himself in the dark." These are not merely words on paper, but should be the guiding principles for a great man. Shen Wanshan's snobbery and betrayal of trust are immoral acts; the Su family, though poor, finds joy in the Way, upholds their principles, and maintains righteousness—all fundamental to self-cultivation. Comparing the two, the difference in their character is clear. Why should he let the mistakes of others disturb his own peace of mind?

He stepped forward slowly, gently taking his father's trembling arm. His voice was clear and steady, devoid of the naivety and confusion of an eight-year-old child: "Father, Mother, integrity lies in virtue, not in wealth or poverty; moral character resides in the heart, not in family background. Uncle Shen broke his promise, thus losing his principles; I, however, uphold the Way, thus solidifying my foundation. Today's humiliation is merely a whetstone on my path of self-cultivation, a testament to my resolute will. Why grieve over this?"

Su Wenyuan looked up at his son and saw his calm demeanor and dignified bearing. He was amazed that someone so young possessed such a broad and magnanimous spirit. His guilt gradually faded, replaced by boundless joy. He wiped away the tears from his eyes, stroked the boy's head, and sighed, "My son, with such character, you have lived up to the teachings of Confucianism and the Su family's tradition of combining farming and scholarship. However, the gossip in Qingxi Town will likely bother you for some time."

Sure enough, within half a day, the old story of the Shen family breaking off the engagement and the two families' arranged marriage from childhood spread like wildfire in the streets and alleys of Qingxi Town, just like weeds after a spring rain in Jiangnan.

In the teahouse in the east of the town, a farmer dressed in short clothes held a rough teacup, slapping the table and lamenting Shen Wanshan's ingratitude: "Back when Shen Wanshan was down on his luck, Scholar Su helped him a lot. Now that he's rich, he's turned his back on him. He's truly disgraced all scholars!"

On the stone bridge in the west of the town, old women huddled together, fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans, their eyes full of regret: "What a fine child the Su family's son is, so well-educated, kind, and humble. It's such a pity that he's ended up with such a snobbish family. It's better if this marriage doesn't happen."

Some pedantic scholars leaned against the window of the tavern, shaking their heads and making wild judgments: "Although Su Qingxuan is talented in his youth, he is still a poor boy. Even if he is full of knowledge, he can hardly resist the gold, silver and power of the world. If he suffers a great blow and his mind is damaged, he will probably never make any progress in this life."

The gossip drifted into the Su family courtyard on the wind. Madam Liu, spinning thread in the kitchen, heard it all. Her shuttle paused, and her eyes reddened again. Fearing that her son, young and impetuous, would be troubled by these rumors, she often found trivial things to do to stay by his side and comfort him with gentle words. Su Wenyuan, in turn, transformed his deep remorse into teachings, diligently instructing him in Confucian principles, hoping that the wisdom of the sages could soothe the wounds in the young man's heart.

However, Su Qingxuan seemed completely unconcerned about these idle rumors.

Since the day the engagement was called off, his daily routine has become even more regular and rigorous. He gets up at cockcrow every day, first washes his hands with clear spring water, sweeps the courtyard, and wipes the fallen leaves under the old osmanthus tree and the dust on the stone table until they are spotless; then he burns incense and sits quietly for a while to purify his mind and focus his thoughts, before picking up the Four Books to read. In the morning, he reads the Great Learning to seek enlightenment, during the day he studies the Analects to understand benevolence and propriety, in the evening he practices Mencius to cultivate a magnanimous spirit, and at night he practices calligraphy under the lamp, his brushstrokes neat and his mind and hand in perfect harmony.

He was no longer content with rote memorization of classic passages, but instead applied the principles of sages to the realities of life. Reciting "The superior man seeks within himself, the inferior man seeks within others," he reflected on himself, regardless of the Shen family's lack of integrity or the fickleness of the world, only examining whether his virtue was sufficient and his mind stable enough. Silently reciting "gentleness, kindness, respect, frugality, and humility," he became increasingly humble in his interactions with others, bowing respectfully to elders, helping the young, always lending a helping hand to neighbors in need, and never wavering in his principles despite being humiliated.

The townspeople gradually noticed that the young Su family boy was becoming increasingly different. They used to think he was just clever and studious, but now they saw a calm and insightful quality about him far beyond his years. His eyes, like autumn water, seemed to see through the hustle and bustle of the world and understand people's hearts. The gossip on the street, seeing him remain calm and composed, neither arguing nor complaining, gradually fell silent—that's how people are; if you're troubled by rumors, they become sharp blades; if you ignore them, they vanish like smoke.

It was late spring of the third year of Jinghe. The rain and mist in Jiangnan had just stopped, a warm breeze was blowing, and the dampness was made pleasantly moist by the warm sun. After reading the chapter "Attaining harmony and balance, heaven and earth are in their proper places, and all things flourish" in the Doctrine of the Mean, Su Qingxuan rolled it up and said to his parents, "Father, Mother, I wish to take a walk along the Qingxi River to observe all things in the world and to understand the way of the sages."

Su Wenyuan nodded in approval: "The way of the Confucian scholar is not about shutting himself in and studying, but about investigating things to gain knowledge and understanding the ways of the world. Go and take a walk; the great principles that are not found in books are hidden in the everyday life of ordinary people."

Su Qingxuan bowed in agreement, changed into a clean coarse blue robe, and went out.

Qingxi Town is nestled along the river, which is its lifeblood. In late spring, the river is crystal clear, with fish and shrimp darting among the pebbles. Reeds line the banks, and willow catkins flutter like snowflakes in the air. The scene of willows swaying in the breeze, bridges spanning the water, and emerald curtains of green—it's the gentle, picturesque beauty of a Jiangnan water town. Su Qingxuan strolled slowly along the riverbank, his gaze taking in every scene of human beauty.

He saw farmers wearing straw hats bending over to plant rice seedlings, their sweat dripping into the paddy fields, creating tiny ripples. They faced the yellow earth and turned their backs to the sky, all for a single season's harvest.

I saw an old fisherman wearing a straw raincoat standing at the bow of the boat, casting and hauling in his net with unhurried movements. Fresh fish were jumping in the net, which was his livelihood.

I saw an old woman with graying temples sitting on the riverbank, turning a spinning wheel, the spool turning constantly, the spun cotton thread winding into bundles, which became the fabric for her clothes;

Seeing the students standing at the bridgehead, reciting poems with heads swaying, full of vigor and high spirits, hoping to one day pass the imperial examination with flying colors;

Seeing the peddler carrying a load on his shoulder, shaking a rattle drum, his loud and melodious cries echoing through the streets and alleys, earning a few coins to make a living;

I saw children chasing and playing, their bare feet treading on the bluestone slabs, their laughter clear and carefree.

Farmers, fishermen, old women, students, merchants, children… all sorts of people, each fulfilling their duties and living their lives in peace, their joys and sorrows, their riches and poverty, their nobility and lowliness, all unfold slowly along the banks of the Qingxi River. This is humanity, the “world” as described by Confucianism, the common people whom Confucian scholars dedicate their lives to protecting and helping. Su Qingxuan traveled, observed, and pondered, his heart stirred by subtle ripples, yet he maintained a balanced and peaceful mind, continuing to observe the most authentic aspects of life in this world.

As he walked to the ancient willow tree by the river, he saw several respected elders of the town sitting around a stone table, brewing tea and chatting. The conversation happened to fall on him. Su Qingxuan stopped deep in the shade of the willow and listened quietly.

"That little boy from the Su family has such a rare temperament. If it were any other child, after suffering such humiliation of being jilted, he would probably have cried and made a scene, harboring resentment in his heart. But he is fine; he continues to study and practice calligraphy, remaining as humble as ever, without losing his composure in the slightest." The white-bearded scholar Chen stroked his long beard, his eyes full of admiration.

"Indeed!" Old Zhang chimed in. "When Shen Wanshan was down on his luck, the Su family gave him everything they had. Now that he's successful, they've betrayed their promise. Such sycophants will never amount to anything. But the young Su family member remains steadfast in poverty and unperturbed by honor or disgrace; he's destined for greatness!"

"But in this world, there are many who add flowers to brocade, but few who offer charcoal in the snow. It is ultimately difficult for children from poor families to rise above their circumstances," another old man sighed, stroking his beard.

"So what if it's difficult?" Old Scholar Chen's eyes shone brightly. "This young man is upright and full of spirit, with the air of a Confucian scholar. Temporary poverty and humiliation are merely the sand that polishes jade, the furnace that forges swords. Once he overcomes this tribulation, he will surely soar like a dragon entering the sea, and then rise to the heavens!"

Su Qingxuan stood under the shade of a willow tree, listening intently, lost in thought. The Analects says, "Is it not the mark of a gentleman to remain unperturbed when others do not understand him?" It also says, "A gentleman is concerned with his own incompetence, not with others' lack of recognition." The praise, regret, and opinions of others are all empty words external to oneself. A gentleman cultivates himself by only asking whether his heart is upright, his virtue profound, and his conduct proper; he never seeks the knowledge of others or the praise of the world.

Having grasped this point, his mind became increasingly clear, like the sun breaking through the clouds, and the world seemed ever more expansive. He bowed respectfully to the elderly men from afar without disturbing them, then turned and continued walking along the riverbank. His mind was peaceful and serene, and the gates of the Confucian path had quietly opened a crack before him.

Upon reaching Qingxi Ferry, a weathered awning boat was moored on the shore. The boatman was an elderly man over sixty, dressed in simple clothes with white hair, his face weathered and dark, his hands covered in calluses from years of rowing. Despite his simple attire and hunched posture, the old man's expression was serene and tranquil, without a trace of sorrow or anxiety, his eyes revealing a peace born of having seen the vicissitudes of life.

Seeing that the old man had an extraordinary bearing, unlike an ordinary boatman, Su Qingxuan stepped forward, bowed respectfully, and said in a humble and polite voice, "Greetings, sir."

The boatman opened his eyes and saw that the young man before him was tall and handsome, with a calm and scholarly demeanor. A hint of approval flashed in his eyes, and he stood up to return the greeting: "Greetings, young master."

"Old man, you row your boat to ferry people every day, rain or shine, hot or cold. Don't you feel bitter about such hard work?" Su Qingxuan sincerely asked for advice.

The boatman laughed heartily upon hearing this, pointing to the ferry at his feet, the river before him, and the passersby: "There is hardship, of course, but ferrying people across the river is my duty. People walk, boats cross the water, farmers till the fields, craftsmen work, scholars study—all things in the world have their place, their responsibilities, and their own hearts. If one can uphold one's duty, fulfill one's responsibilities, and remain true to oneself, then it is not hardship, but rather a state of ease."

"Each should stay in their place, fulfill their responsibilities, and uphold their principles."

These twelve words, like a thunderclap, exploded in Su Qingxuan's mind, stirring up a thousand ripples in his heart.

He studied Confucian classics, including Confucius's benevolence and propriety, Mencius's righteous governance, Zengzi's self-cultivation, and Zisi's doctrine of the mean. In the end, isn't this the same principle? Heaven and earth have their order, and people have their positions. Rulers and ministers, fathers and sons, scholars, farmers, artisans and merchants, each should be content with their place and follow their own path. With benevolence in their hearts and propriety in their conduct, they will establish the foundation for peace in the world. When Confucian scholars cultivate themselves, regulate their families, govern the state, and bring peace to the world, they must first fulfill their own duties. Cultivating oneself is to rectify one's heart, regulating one's family is to foster harmony among relatives, governing the state is to bring peace to the people, and bringing peace to the world is to save all living beings. They never overstep their bounds.

Farmers till the fields, fulfilling their duty to the world; fishermen cast their nets, fulfilling their duty to make a living; boatmen ferry people, fulfilling their duty to guide the world; scholars read, fulfilling their duty to cultivate themselves. When all things find their place and fulfill their responsibilities, that is benevolence, that is propriety, that is the right path, that is the ultimate principle of Confucianism!

The sages' teachings, which he had not fully grasped before, were now instantly understood by the boatman's simple yet profound words. Su Qingxuan stood at the ferry, gazing at the ever-flowing river, the endless stream of travelers, the changing seasons, and all things that were constantly coming to life. He was captivated by what he saw.

The way of sages and virtuous men is not only found in the classics of grand temples, nor entirely in obscure and difficult passages, but also in the workings of heaven and earth, in the daily life of ordinary people, and in the simple act of each person guarding their true self, fulfilling their duties, and dealing with the world with sincerity. The teachings of Confucianism are nothing more than a test of the depth of one's practice in "guarding one's heart, guarding one's duty, and guarding the Way."

"Young master seems to have realized something?" The boatman asked with a smile, noticing the change in his expression and the glint in his eyes.

Su Qingxuan snapped back to his senses, bowed deeply to the old man, and said respectfully, "Thank you for your guidance, sir! Today, I have gained a glimpse into the fundamental principles of Confucianism and have learned an immeasurable amount!"

The old man stroked his beard and smiled, saying no more. He then poled his boat away from the shore. The awning boat cut through the water and slowly sailed towards the center of the river, leaving behind ripples that gradually dissipated in the breeze.

Su Qingxuan stood at the ferry crossing, motionless for a long time. The boatman's twelve-character motto, along with his father's daily teachings, the principles of sages and classics, and his insights from the annulment of the engagement, all intertwined and blended together, planting a full seed of Confucianism and Taoism in his heart, waiting only for the spring breeze and rain to nurture it, so that it could take root and sprout.

As the sun began to set and the evening glow painted the sky red, Su Qingxuan turned and went home. His steps were steady, his mind was resolute, and his aura became even more serene.

Back in the Su family courtyard, Su Wenyuan was organizing the ancient books and scrolls left by his ancestors. Seeing his son return, his expression was calm, and his eyes held a wise light. Knowing that his son must have gained some insight, he put down the book in his hand and asked gently, "Qingxuan, did you gain any insights from your walk by the river?"

Su Qingxuan bowed deeply, his gaze resolute, his words ringing out: "Father, today I met an old man at the ferry crossing, and he enlightened me, giving me a glimpse into the profound principles of Confucianism. The way of the Confucian is not found in empty talk, but in putting it into practice; not in lofty and abstruse concepts, but in everyday life. Heaven and earth have their order, people have their places, everyone is content with their lot, fulfills their responsibilities, and guards their hearts—this is benevolence, this is propriety, this is the foundation of peace and prosperity."

Upon hearing this, Su Wenyuan was startled, and nearly dropped the Book of Poetry in his hand.

He devoted his life to studying Confucian classics and teaching, and it was only after he had passed the age of forty that he finally understood this principle. His son, who was only eight years old and had never experienced the ways of the world, was able to glimpse the core principles of Confucianism from the simple words of ordinary people in the marketplace. Such innate talent and understanding are a gift from heaven, a natural gift to become a sage!

Su Wenyuan's eyes welled up with tears, his voice trembling with excitement. He stepped forward and tightly grasped his son's hand: "Good! Good! My son's understanding and mindset are a blessing to the Su family, a blessing to Confucianism, and a blessing to the world! The teachings of Confucian sages will surely have successors, and the way of the sages will never be lost!"

He strode to the corner of the courtyard wall, where there was an ancestral altar used by the Su family. From under the altar, he took out a blue cloth bundle, layered with hidden treasures passed down through generations of the Su family. Su Wenyuan held the bundle with both hands and solemnly presented it to Su Qingxuan, his expression utterly solemn: "Qingxuan, this is the most precious heirloom of my Su family, the 'Confucian Heart Method' passed down by ancient cultivators. It is something that cannot be seen, practiced, or obtained by those who are not of enlightened mind, dedicated to saving the world, and sincere in their hearts. Your grandfather's dying wish was that this book be passed on to descendants who truly understand, uphold, and promote Confucianism. Today, I, your father, pass it on to you. You must protect it with your life, cultivate it with your original intention, and practice it to promote the Way."

Su Qingxuan accepted the package with both hands, feeling its weight. It was the legacy of generations of Su family scholars and farmers, the entrustment of the Confucian path, and the expectation of heaven and earth. He slowly untied the blue cloth, revealing an ancient thread-bound book. The cover was unsigned and unmarked, exuding only the weight of time. On the title page, four characters were engraved in ancient seal script—"The Heart Method of Confucianism," the strokes powerful and penetrating.

The young man knelt on both knees, bowing deeply to the books and to his father: "Your son, Su Qingxuan, vows to live up to the legacy of our ancestors, to fulfill the trust placed in me by my father, and to uphold the teachings of the sages. I will establish myself with Confucian principles, prove the Way with my heart, and help the world with benevolence. Even if I encounter countless hardships and dangers, I will never change my original aspirations and will never stray from the Confucian way!"

Su Wenyuan helped his son up, his voice solemn: "Remember, to cultivate this method, you must first cultivate your mind; if your mind is not upright, the method will not be effective; if your mind is upright, the method will naturally work. You are born with wisdom, your mind is pure, and you will surely attain enlightenment in adversity and achieve the Great Dao."

"only..."

Su Wenyuan paused for a moment, then continued, "This mental cultivation method is an incomplete scroll, only half of it."

That night, the lights in the Su family courtyard stayed on all night.

Su Qingxuan sat upright under the lamp, holding his breath and concentrating intently as he carefully studied the *Confucian Heart Method*. Although it was only a fragment, it was sufficient for him at the moment. Su Qingxuan knew the principle of not trying to do too much at once; he would save the other half for the future when the opportunity arose. This Heart Method was not the poetry and prose for worldly examinations, but rather an internal cultivation method that used the mind to control one's qi, used qi to uphold propriety, used propriety to establish oneself, and used one's life to benefit the world—the fundamental path to sainthood for ancient Confucian cultivators.

The very first sentence of the mental cultivation manual shook him to his core:

"When the mind is upright, the spirit is upright; when the spirit is upright, the person is cultivated; when the person is cultivated, the family is in harmony; when the family is in harmony, the state is well-governed; when the state is well-governed, the world is at peace. When the world is at peace, one returns to the Great Way."

He studied the book word by word, finding that its contents perfectly aligned with his understanding at the ferry crossing and the teachings of the sages, delving deeper and deeper until they pointed directly to his true nature and origin. The methods of "sincerity," "rectification of mind," "self-cultivation," and "cultivation of qi" contained in the book resonated with the principles of the Four Books and Five Classics, yet were more refined, profound, and directly addressed the essence of cultivation. The righteous qi of Confucianism was not an empty spiritual belief, but a perceptible, cultivateable, and nurtured righteous qi of heaven and earth that could nourish the body, purify the soul, and solidify the foundation.

As he read deeper, Su Qingxuan felt a gentle, balanced, and lingering energy slowly rising from his dantian, flowing smoothly through his limbs and bones, soothing his meridians and clearing his mind. His previously blurred hearing and vision began to sharpen—he could clearly hear the chirping of insects outside the window, the barking of a neighbor's dog in the distance, and the falling laurel leaves in the yard; he could clearly see the flying insects in the night and the twinkling stars in the sky.

This is the first level of Confucian cultivation—sincerity of intention and rectification of mind.

This volume, "The Confucian Mind Method," is a supreme method passed down by the ancient Su family. If ordinary scholars were to study it, they would usually only grasp its surface meaning, not its essence. Only those whose hearts are connected to heaven and earth, whose aspirations are to save the world, and who are pure and untainted, can draw upon the righteous energy of heaven and earth and attain the initial stage of cultivation. Su Qingxuan was born with innate wisdom, his heart as pure as unpolished jade. He did not change his will despite setbacks, and his mind remained undisturbed even in adversity. He understood it immediately upon first touch and entered the realm of cultivation without the slightest stagnation.

In the stillness of the night, the moonlight, like water, bathed the Su family courtyard in its gentle glow. The fragrance of osmanthus wafted through the air, a soft night breeze caressed the scene. Su Qingxuan closed his book and sat in meditation, following the instructions in the manual to regulate his breathing and concentrate his mind. He focused his gaze on his nose, his nose on his heart, and his heart on all things, his mind undivided, his thoughts unwavering. Each breath synchronized with the seasons and the heavens; each thought aligned with the ancient sages; his righteous spirit shone as brightly as the sun, moon, and stars.

After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze calm and composed, the light within them restrained. The immaturity of an eight-year-old child gradually faded, replaced by a steadfast and unbreakable Confucian heart.

He pushed open the door and stood under the moon, gazing at the vast starry sky. There was no longer any confusion, wavering, or hesitation in his heart, only a resolute determination to establish himself with Confucianism, to prove the Way with his heart, and to help the world with benevolence.

Unbeknownst to him, at the very moment he meditated and drew upon the righteous energy of heaven and earth, in an ancient temple a thousand miles away, a white-haired Taoist priest who had been in seclusion for decades suddenly opened his eyes. His gaze, sharp as lightning, pierced through the clouds and mist, looking directly towards Qingxi Town in Jiangnan. He exclaimed in astonishment, "The spiritual energy of Confucianism has been revived! A Confucian saint has been born! This child's Confucian heart is complete, his Daoist roots are about to appear, and his Buddhist nature is hidden. The signs of the unification of the three religions will manifest in this person!"

The old Taoist priest, calculating with his fingers, sought to glimpse the young man's destiny, only to find Su Qingxuan's future shrouded in a misty fog, obscured by clouds and mist, chaotic and unclear, transcending the norms of the Three Realms and outside the Five Elements. He could only sigh again: "Heaven's will is unpredictable, the Great Dao is formless. This child's destiny is unprecedented in history. Let us see how he forges a path that connects the three religions!"

In another ancient temple deep in the mountains, thousands of miles away, an old monk in meditation slowly opened his eyes, his gaze full of compassion, and softly chanted the Buddha's name: "Namo Amitabha Buddha, those with affinity have been born, the Buddha's affinity is beginning to appear, the time is approaching, quietly await our meeting."

The Buddhist chants faded, and the world returned to silence. The night in Jiangnan was as gentle as water, while the young man's heart remained as firm as iron. The silver ingot left by Shen Wanshan on the stone table remained untouched and unmoved. It was a testament to the world's snobbery, a reminder of the young man's self-cultivation, and an inscription of the Confucian scholar's integrity.

Su Qingxuan stood under the moonlight, inhaling the fresh breeze carrying the scent of osmanthus and earth, and murmured to himself, each word resonating deep within his heart and echoing throughout the heavens and earth:

"A scholar cannot lack breadth of vision and resolute will, for his burden is heavy and his journey is long. To take benevolence as one's own responsibility, is that not a heavy burden? To strive until death, is that not a long journey?"

The moonlight shone on his blue robe, reflecting the refined and undisturbed spirit of a Confucian scholar. He was unaware that he had taken the first step on the path of merging the mortal and the saintly, and even more unaware that a legendary tale spanning the three religions and shaking the ages was slowly unfolding in this small courtyard in the misty rain of Jiangnan.

It is:

Having seen through worldly desires, one understands the ultimate truth; having comprehended Confucianism and Taoism, one's understanding takes root and sprouts.

One day, with great ambition and perseverance, he received the mandate of heaven, and from then on, his mortal path was bathed in divine glory.