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

Poetry:

I bid farewell to Langya Mountain and ventured into the mortal world, seeking true enlightenment in the Zen forest.

The spirit of Taoism and the style of Confucianism initially blended together, and in the depths of prosperity and decline, one comprehends the origin.

After bidding farewell to Daoist Xuanqing, Su Qingxuan stood at the foot of Langya Mountain, gazing at the gradually dissipating clouds and mists of the layered peaks. Though reluctant to leave, he knew even more that the Great Dao lay ahead, and there was no time to linger. The eleven-year-old boy in a blue robe, carrying a satchel and the artifacts of the Three Ancestors, had already begun to integrate Confucianism and Daoist principles within his heart. Although he had not yet reached a state of perfect harmony, he had already taken a crucial step towards the integration of Confucianism and Daoism. His journey westward served two purposes: first, to continue his worldly experience and hone his Daoist heart through worldly affairs; and second, to seek out the legendary ancient temple located on the western border of the Great Xia Dynasty, where he could systematically study the profound mysteries of Buddhism.

Starting his journey from Jiangnan, passing through the Huai and Si rivers, crossing the northern frontier, and entering Langya, Su Qingxuan's understanding of Buddhism was merely superficial, based on occasional glimpses of old monks chanting scriptures and a rudimentary grasp of compassion and non-attachment. His concepts of "enlightenment" and "dependent origination and emptiness" were vague and ambiguous, like the blind men touching an elephant, believing they had grasped the whole picture from a single touch—far removed from the true meaning of Buddhism. He deeply understood that the unification of the three teachings (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism) could not be achieved through mere superficial exploration. Confucianism was the foundation of his life, Taoism was the wings for his journey, and Buddhism was the path to the other shore of his heart; none could be lacking. He had now grasped the basics of Confucianism and Taoism, but had not yet entered the gate of Buddhism. Without seeking out eminent monks for systematic study, he would ultimately find it difficult to grasp the full picture of all things returning to the heart. So he traveled westward, not caring about the distance, but following the scattered rumors from his neighbors about "ancient temples and reclusive monks in the western frontier." He visited as he went, his steps steady, traversing plains and crossing mountains. He saw the scenery gradually change; the warmth and abundance of the Central Plains faded, and the mountains and rivers of the western frontier became more majestic and desolate, with even the vegetation carrying a touch of ruggedness.

On this day, they arrived at a place called Xuan Shu Dao Palace. This palace was located on the mountainside of Xuan Shu Peak, a famous mountain in the western border region. It was a legitimate branch of the Daoist sect and had guarded the Demon-Locking Tower in the mountain for generations to seal the violent and turbid energy left over from ancient times. Due to the passage of time, the sealing array of this tower had gradually loosened. In addition, the earth's energy in the western border region had been fluctuating recently, and the evil energy in the tower had been quietly leaking out. Like wisps of gray-black mist, it wrapped around the pillars of the Dao Palace, soaked into the halls and alchemy furnaces, and even invaded the minds of the disciples of the Dao Palace by the mountain wind.

As soon as Su Qingxuan reached the foot of the mountain, he felt a strange and violent aura wash over him, similar in origin to the evil spirits of the ancient well and the chilling aura of the Yin Pool in Anling Town. This aura did not corrode the physical body, but specifically disturbed the mind, stirring up the evil thoughts, narrow-mindedness, and stubbornness deep within people's hearts, causing them to lose their composure and become agitated. On the mountain path, several Daoist disciples, their faces flushed and eyes bloodshot, were shoving each other with wooden swords in hand, shouting incessantly, completely losing their usual composure in quiet cultivation. This was all due to the demonic aura invading their hearts, amplifying their obsessions. Outside the hall, beside the alchemy furnace, several older disciples sat cross-legged, their brows furrowed, using the Daoist Heart-Cleansing Technique to resist the evil aura, but their faces remained pale, their breath fluctuating, clearly unable to hold on.

Before the palace gates stood a Taoist priest in a black robe, his hair and beard half-white, his hands clasped behind his back, his face solemn. He was none other than Xuanjizi, the guardian elder of the Xuan Shu Taoist Palace. He possessed profound cultivation and was able to maintain his composure, but he could only protect himself and was powerless to dispel the malevolent aura permeating the entire palace. Seeing his disciples growing increasingly mad, he was extremely anxious but helpless. Taoist magic usually uses talismans and qi to suppress evil spirits, but what was leaking out this time was not a tangible demon, but years of violent and turbid qi that specifically eroded people's minds and obsessions. The more forceful the Taoist magic was used to suppress it, the more violent the qi rebounded, causing even more damage to the disciples' minds.

Seeing this, Su Qingxuan immediately strode up the mountain path and spoke loudly. His voice, infused with his powerful inner strength, was clear, resonant, and steady, piercing through the noise: "Fellow Daoists, this energy is designed to disturb the mind. Do not resist it with agitation. Only by keeping your mind calm and still can you avoid being affected by it."

Xuanjizi turned his head and saw a young man in a green robe approaching alone. He was still young, but his aura was upright and peaceful, a blend of Confucianism and Daoism. Xuanjizi was slightly surprised. The disciples whose hearts had been corrupted by evil energy did not quiet down upon hearing the sound. Instead, they became even more violent, roaring and charging at Su Qingxuan with their swords drawn, their eyes filled with obsession and madness.

Unwilling to harm anyone, Su Qingxuan immediately circulated the Confucian Righteous Qi, a warm white light emanating from his body, intending to dispel the malevolent energy on his disciples. However, the moment he enveloped one disciple with his righteous energy, the disciple's violent energy suddenly surged, like dry wood meeting a raging fire, becoming increasingly agitated. It was the fierce intent of the righteous energy that had stirred up the resistance of the evil energy. Su Qingxuan was startled, then immediately understood: this evil energy was born from the obsessions of the human heart, intertwined with the bias of "reason." Although the Confucian Righteous Qi was righteous, if one simply used "righteousness" to suppress "evil" and "reason" to control "chaos," it would be clinging to the distinction between good and evil, falling into a narrow-minded state, and thus becoming an opportunity for the evil energy to take advantage.

He quickly withdrew his fierce righteous energy and instead, with the Daoist principle of yin and yang balance, slowly released a gentle aura to try to soothe his disciples' minds. However, the evil energy still lingered, and several disciples rushed in front of him, swinging their wooden swords with frenzied force.

At this critical moment, Su Qingxuan suddenly felt a warmth in his arms. The tattered scroll of the Su family's ancestral Confucian cultivation manual floated out of his robes on its own and hovered in mid-air. The yellowed pages moved without wind, and the ancient seal characters, which were previously difficult to decipher, now slowly emitted a soft and warm radiance. It was neither as upright as the righteous spirit nor as cold as the Taoist light, but as warm as the spring sun and as nourishing as a stream, carrying a benevolent aura that embraced all things and showed compassion for the world, slowly spreading out.

Wherever the light reached, the disciples rushing forward suddenly froze, the crimson in their eyes gradually faded, their violent roars abruptly ceased, and the gray-black evil aura surrounding them melted away like ice and snow meeting the warm sun, their minds returning to calm. The oppressive aura around Xuanjizi also eased, the previously restless spiritual energy of the Dao Palace gradually calmed down, and the turbid energy leaking from the Chain Demon Tower even restrained its ferocity, no longer wantonly eroding people's hearts.

Su Qingxuan stared blankly at the floating scroll, deeply shocked. This scroll of mental cultivation techniques had only helped him cultivate his righteous spirit and refine his sincerity and mind; it had never before manifested itself so automatically, transforming violence with benevolence. He suddenly realized that the Confucian concept of "righteousness" was not about forceful suppression or black-and-white opposition, but rather the benevolence hidden deep within the heart—a power of tolerance, education, and pacification. Using force to suppress evil will only lead to its retaliation; using benevolence to transform violence will naturally dissipate it. This perfectly validated what he had learned at Qingxu Temple over the past year: the doctrine of the mean, benevolence, righteousness, and the balance of yin and yang.

Xuanjizi stepped forward slowly, his gaze fixed on the tattered scroll. His fingertips trembled slightly. After a long while, he sighed softly, his voice filled with regret: "The item you possess, young friend, is no ordinary Confucian classic. The principles within are gentle and inclusive, almost like... the 'Dao,' seemingly... containing the benevolent essence of ancient sages. It's a pity the scroll is incomplete, and many essential points may have been lost. If it were complete, with the power of this ancient benevolent teaching, it would not only be unnecessary to suppress the evil energy in the tower, but it could also guide it back to righteousness, transforming violence into peace, instead of merely calming the violence as it is now."

The Taoist priest's words struck Su Qingxuan's heart like a morning bell and evening drum. He felt a chill: Ancient sages? Su family ancestors? Confucian teachings? Scattered magical artifacts? ... Some of these things overlapped, while others remained vague.

He shook his head, temporarily suppressing the thought, and another reflection arose in his heart: he had comprehended the balance of Yin and Yang and the doctrine of the mean at Qingxu Temple, and this experience now confirmed the common ground between Confucianism and Taoism: Taoism speaks of "following nature and not acting recklessly," while Confucianism speaks of "teaching with benevolence and not being biased." Neither is about suppressing others with force or bullying the weak, but about following one's own heart and conforming to the principles of Heaven, resolving disputes with tolerance, and calming chaos with peace. In the past, he had always thought that a Confucian's adherence to righteousness meant eliminating evil, but now he slowly realized that a higher level of upholding righteousness is to use a benevolent and forgiving heart to transform evil into righteousness, to be self-disciplined without being harsh on others, and to uphold righteousness without clinging to evil. This was the first time since he began studying Taoism at Qingxu Temple that he had put the principle of integrating Confucianism and Taoism into practice. Although it was not perfect, his Taoist heart had gradually progressed.

Seeing that Su Qingxuan seemed to be deep in thought, Xuanjizi knew that he had exceptional wisdom and could understand things immediately. He didn't say much, but simply cupped his hands and thanked him: "Today, thanks to your kindness and compassion, my Dao Palace was saved from danger. Xuanshu Dao Palace will remember this kindness. You are a practitioner of both Confucianism and Daoism, and your demeanor is extraordinary. You will surely achieve great things in the future."

Su Qingxuan put away the fragment of the cultivation manual that slowly fell back into his arms, and bowed in return: "Daoist, you flatter me. I was merely fortunate enough to be there and offered my humble assistance. The seal on this tower is loose, and I hope that you will repair it as soon as possible to protect the peace of this region."

After bidding farewell to Xuanjizi, Su Qingxuan continued his westward journey, pondering the strange phenomena of the incomplete scroll and Xuanjizi's words. The words "ancient benevolence, education rather than suppression" swirled in his mind. He vaguely felt that the complete form of this incomplete scroll contained profound mysteries far surpassing those of modern Confucian self-cultivation, but the opportune moment had not yet arrived, and the principles were incomplete, preventing him from fully comprehending it.

As he traveled, more and more villages appeared in the western borderlands. Su Qingxuan searched for traces of ancient temples along the way. Occasionally, villagers mentioned a hermit known as "Old Man of Withering and Flourishing" in a secluded valley in the west. He had entered the Dao through the principles of plants and trees, living in seclusion for decades. He understood the wonders of the cycle of life in the universe. Although not a Taoist priest, he had a deep understanding of the great Dao of nature. Upon hearing this, Su Qingxuan felt a desire to visit him. The withering and flourishing of plants and trees aligned with the Daoist concept of the unity of life and death, and also resonated with the Confucian concept of the cycle of life. This resonated with his own path of cultivation. If he could discuss the Dao with the hermit, he would surely gain further insights.

Following the scattered clues pointed out by the villagers, he traversed dense forests and crossed streams, arriving at a secluded valley rarely visited by humans. The valley was filled with a serene and tranquil atmosphere, lush with vegetation, a stark contrast to the desolation outside. A bamboo fence and thatched cottage nestled in the heart of the valley, and in the courtyard outside stood a towering ancient tree, most peculiar of all—one half of the tree's trunk was withered and dead, its bark cracked, devoid of any vitality; the other half was lush and verdant, dotted with blossoms, a harmonious coexistence of decay and life, clearly distinct yet perfectly integrated, standing quietly in the valley's gentle breeze, seemingly having endured a thousand years.

The thatched cottage door opened, and in the courtyard, an old man dressed in coarse linen clothes sat cross-legged. He had a youthful face and white hair, a ruddy complexion, and closed eyes. He gently twirled a fallen leaf between his fingertips. His aura blended with that of the ancient tree. It was none other than the Old Man of Withered Glory.

Su Qingxuan walked slowly into the courtyard, bowed respectfully, and said in a humble tone: "This junior, Su Qingxuan, was passing through this place when I heard that you, sir, had entered the Dao through plants and trees and comprehended the principles of withering and flourishing. I have come to pay my respects and hope that you will not hesitate to give me your guidance."

Old Man Ku Rong slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Su Qingxuan. He looked him up and down, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, before he smiled and nodded: "Young friend, there's no need for such formality. I am Old Man Ku Rong, living in seclusion here simply to keep company with plants and trees and to contemplate the vitality of heaven and earth. Young friend, you exude a refined Confucian air and a hidden Daoist charm, a rare blend of Confucianism and Daoism. I suppose you are also a person wholeheartedly devoted to the Dao. Please take a seat and let's have a chat."

The two sat facing each other beneath the ancient, withered tree, discussing the great principles of heaven and earth. The Old Man of Withered Glory used the withering and flourishing of plants as a starting point to explain the Daoist principle of "life and death as one, a cycle of recurrence": "Plants grow in spring and flourish in summer, wither in autumn and hibernate in winter. Withering is not the end, flourishing is not the beginning; the alternation of withering and flourishing is the cycle of life in heaven and earth. People fear death and crave life, clinging to flourishing and weary of withering; thus, they have lost their true nature and are trapped by appearances. Birth is natural, death is natural, flourishing is natural, withering is natural."

Su Qingxuan resonated with Confucian principles: "The Book of Changes says, 'The continuous process of life is called change.' The greatest virtue of heaven and earth is life. The withering and flourishing of plants are precisely the manifestation of the continuous cycle of life. Withering is the dormancy of life force, and flourishing is the manifestation of life force. Without withering, there is no flourishing; without concealment, there is no life. The Confucian scholar adheres to the Doctrine of the Mean, which means not being attached to withering, flourishing, life, and death, but following the principle of the continuous cycle of life in heaven and earth, and doing good deeds to help the world with a benevolent heart."

After a discussion, the two men developed a mutual respect and became close friends. Seeing that Su Qingxuan, though young, possessed a profound understanding of the Dao and extraordinary insights, the Old Man of Withering and Flourishing admired him even more. Pointing to the ancient tree in the courtyard, he said, "This tree is a spiritual tree of heaven and earth, born from the essence of the universe. Its cycle of withering and flourishing has lasted for nearly a thousand years without any change. Since you, young friend, have grasped the Dao of life, why not sit quietly beneath this tree and experience the fundamental source of life between withering and flourishing? Perhaps you will gain new insights."

Su Qingxuan readily agreed and immediately sat cross-legged beneath the ancient, withered tree, his eyes slightly closed, regulating his breathing and focusing his mind according to the principles of Confucianism and Taoism. He let go of his distracting thoughts, connecting his mind with the ancient tree, feeling the dormancy of the withered wood and the burgeoning of the green leaves, comprehending the natural principles of life and death, the cycle of withering and flourishing. The Taoist concept of the unity of life and death resonated quietly within him, echoing the Confucian idea of ​​the continuous cycle of life. The previously ambiguous principles of the fusion of Confucianism and Taoism became clearer and more profound.

Just then, the ancient withered wood that Su Qingxuan kept close to his body suddenly trembled slightly. Since his journey, this piece of withered wood had been mostly calm and still, only manifesting itself when it encountered the cold and evil energy of the Yin-Yang Pool. At this moment, it spontaneously emitted a wisp of extremely faint and pure white aura, which drifted out through the gaps in his clothes and slowly wrapped around the withered and flourishing ancient tree in the courtyard.

Strange things happen in an instant.

On one side of the ancient tree's withered branch, a very fine crack slowly unfolded, and at a speed visible to the naked eye, a tender green bud sprouted. The bud tip was crystal clear, full of vitality, and stood out conspicuously against the withered branch. The ancient tree, which had gone through a century of cycles of withering and flourishing, had, at this moment, broken its previous balance and revealed a vitality that transcended withering and flourishing, due to a connection with a breath of energy.

The withered old man suddenly stood up, his eyes wide as he stared at the new buds on the withered branches of the ancient tree, then at the object in Su Qingxuan's arms. His face was filled with shock and astonishment. After a long while, he exclaimed in disbelief, "How strange! How bizarre! The thing you possess, young friend, is no ordinary spiritual wood. It contains a wisp of primordial energy that is inexhaustible, transcending decay and life and death! This energy is neither the spirit of plants nor the essence of heaven and earth. It seems to be... the energy of the heart, or... the Buddha-nature! It is the vitality of the original heart, the eternal principle that does not follow the decay and prosperity of external things, nor the cycle of life and death!"

Su Qingxuan slowly opened his eyes, gazing at the new buds on the ancient tree, then gently stroking the slightly calmed withered wood in his arms, his heart churning with turmoil. He had always known that this piece of withered wood was a spiritual relic left by his ancestors; his father had vaguely mentioned that it might contain Buddhist energy. Only now did he realize that its core was not the nature of plants, but a wisp of vitality from the heart, a primordial power that transcends life, death, decay, and prosperity. Taoism speaks of the cycle of life and death, the natural flow; Confucianism speaks of the endless cycle of life, the continuation of the benevolent heart; and Buddhism can transcend life and death. At this moment, through the interaction between the spiritual wood and the ancient tree, Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism had quietly become a part of his Daoist heart.

He realized that life, death, decay, and prosperity in the world are all appearances; only the vitality of one's own heart is eternally indestructible. Decay is not death, prosperity is not flourishing; life and death are one, and the source of endless life lies within a clear and pure heart. This was yet another initial practice of integrating Confucianism and Taoism with Buddhist qualities, a step further than his benevolent transformation of evil before the Demon-Sealing Platform, seemingly touching upon a trace of the fundamental source of the Great Dao.

Ku Rong Weng looked at Su Qingxuan with eyes full of expectation: "Young friend, you are blessed with a destiny from heaven, possess extraordinary treasures, and have a pure heart. In the future, you will surely be able to master all laws and achieve a great path that is unprecedented in history. I have lived in seclusion for half my life, and to see such extraordinary phenomena, treasures, and people today is enough to make my life worthwhile."

Su Qingxuan bowed in thanks, knowing that his enlightenment had been complete and he should not linger. He bid farewell to the withered old man, left the secluded valley, and once again embarked on his journey westward.

As the sun set, the western mountains were bathed in a golden-red hue, and the figure of the young man in the blue robe gradually faded into the distance. The fragmented scroll of the cultivation method in his arms, the ancient withered tree, and the bronze seal resonated with each other; the secrets of the Three Ancestral Objects were gradually revealed through repeated enlightenment; the great path of the unity of the three teachings was slowly becoming clearer through the practice of integrating Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism. His resolve grew stronger; once he found the ancient temple and learned the true meaning of Buddhism, he would truly be able to unlock the door to the unity of the three teachings.

It is:

The Confucian scroll does not rely on the demon-suppressing blade, but the spiritual wood secretly sprouts the power of creation.

Having comprehended the cycle of life and death, he began to inquire about the emptiness of Zen.