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

Poetry:

The misty rain of Pingjiang locks in the literary world, while a man in a blue robe breaks through the dust with joy.

His poem astonished the entire gathering, and his three words resonated with the Dao, forging a bond of understanding.

In the mid-autumn of the ninth year of Jinghe, the autumn air in Jiangnan was at its golden height. After Su Qingxuan enlightened the three religions with a single sentence at Xiude Square in Luoyang and then disappeared into the dust, he had the idea of ​​entering officialdom. He decided to return to Qingxi Town in Jiangnan first to visit his parents before making any further plans.

The splendor and devastation of the capital city of Luoyang, like a faded painting, left a deep imprint on his heart. The layers of corruption, the conflicts between the three religions, and the suffering of the people—these oppressive circumstances only strengthened his resolve to enter officialdom—not to curry favor with the powerful, nor to gain fame and fortune, but to use his position in the court to serve the people, cleanse the court of its accumulated corruption, and usher in a peaceful and prosperous era for all.

This time, his return home was no longer the low-key, clandestine journey of his past studies. He knew that to enter the imperial court, one must first establish a reputation; to revitalize the three teachings, one must first demonstrate a righteous heart. The battle in Luoyang, though it astonished the world with its grand principles of the three teachings, was ultimately fleeting, without substance, and unlikely to have a lasting impact. Jiangnan was a cradle of culture, and Pingjiang Prefecture was a major center of Jiangnan's flourishing literary tradition, with numerous academies and schools, and a gathering of renowned scholars from the three teachings. If he could achieve fame here, it would not only build prestige for his future entry into the court but also sow the seeds of "the unity of the three teachings" among scholars throughout the land. In the future, he would prove with his achievements that "the unity of the three teachings" was not empty talk but a practicable and actionable path. Therefore, he abandoned his usual unassuming style and decided to use Pingjiang Prefecture as a transit point to make a high-profile appearance at a literary gathering, attracting the attention of the world.

Pingjiang Prefecture was built along the water, bordering Suzhou to the east and Anhui and Zhejiang provinces to the west. The Qingxi River, a tributary of the Luo River, flows through the city, with painted bridges lining both banks, and black-awning boats shuttling back and forth. The white-walled, black-eaved houses are built along the water, their copper bells tinkling in the breeze. Since ancient times, it has been a place frequented by scholars and poets. Xie Lingyun once sailed on the Qingxi River to compose poems about the landscape, and Bai Juyi once climbed the Pingjiang Tower to express his aspirations. Although years have passed, the literary atmosphere remains vibrant. The prefectural school, the Jiangnan Academy, and the Pingjiang Academy stand side by side, housing tens of thousands of volumes. They possess precious collections of Confucian, Buddhist, and Taoist classics. The triennial literary gathering is a grand event for scholars from Jiangnan, attracting even imperial censors and local dignitaries, demonstrating its importance.

That day, Su Qingxuan was still dressed in a blue robe, carrying a simple book box. The robe was hand-sewn by his mother, the stitches fine and dense. Although the edges had become frayed over the years, it remained neat and tidy. Inside the book box were scriptures from the three religions, writing brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone, as well as a jade pendant left by his mother, warm and translucent, his only warm memory. Pingjiang Prefecture was not far from Qingxi Town, his hometown was just a stone's throw away. He should have felt apprehensive about returning home, but Su Qingxuan had deeper plans in his heart, so he had to suppress his longing for his family for the time being. He walked through the morning mist of Pingjiang Prefecture to the literary gathering square in front of the Pingjiang Prefectural School. The morning mist had not yet dissipated, like smoke and gauze, shrouding the entire square in a hazy veil, but it did not diminish the liveliness in the slightest.

The square was already bustling with people, banners fluttering in the wind. The main banner of the literary gathering, a vibrant red, bore the four seal characters "Pingjiang Literary Gathering," their strokes powerful and the ink as fresh as new, the banner billowing in the wind. On either side were two main altars: one for "Poetry and Prose Competition" and the other for "Discussions by Sages." Confucian scholars, dressed in blue robes and holding scrolls of poetry and scriptures, gathered in small groups, reciting poems or debating doctrines. Taoist monks, their hair tied in topknots, wore plain robes, carrying whisks and peach wood swords at their waists, their expressions serene and refined. Buddhist devotees, draped in robes and holding prayer beads, bowed their heads, their expressions revealing unwavering devotion. The air was thick with scholarly atmosphere, the scents of ink and sandalwood mingling, creating a unique and magnificent scene in Pingjiang Prefecture.

Su Qingxuan looked up and saw several long tables set up in front of the poetry gathering platform. On the tables were plain paper, inkstones, and ink sticks. Several elders, including Lin Xueyuan, the instructor of Pingjiang Prefectural School, Chen Xiu, the headmaster of Jiangnan Academy, and Li Mo, the headmaster of Pingjiang Academy, were in charge. The elders were all dressed in Confucian robes, holding jade-handled whisks, and their sharp eyes were scrutinizing the scholars coming and going. The altar for discussing the way of sages was a high altar, built of bluestone, with three levels. Famous scholars from the three religions sat on both sides: Zhao Mengyan, the professor of Pingjiang Prefectural School, representing Confucianism; Xuanzhen, the Taoist priest of Xuanmiao Temple, representing Taoism; and Jingkong, the abbot of Qingliang Temple, representing Buddhism. The altar was surrounded by scholars and common people who had come to admire the scholars. The common people squeezed on the outer edge of the crowd. Although they did not understand the doctrines of the three religions, they still wanted to catch a glimpse of the famous scholars.

He walked slowly into the crowd, his gaze sweeping over his surroundings. He thought to himself: this appearance must not only amaze with his poetry and literary talent, but also convince people with his philosophical discourse, demonstrating the magnanimity of the three religions (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism). Only in this way can he build prestige for his future official career and let people from all three religions know his true faith. His youthful spirit possessed both worldly ambition and a grand aspiration for the unification of the three religions. This high-profile appearance was not arrogance, but rather a result of careful planning and deliberation.

Just then, Lin Jingxing, son of Lin Xueyuan, the instructor of Pingjiang Prefectural School, dressed in a blue robe and holding a wooden plaque, stood before the poetry competition platform, loudly announcing the registration rules. Lin Jingxing was only twenty years old, from a scholarly family with a long tradition of poetry and literature. He had been well-versed in Confucian classics since childhood, yet he was arrogant and haughty, becoming even more so when he saw the surrounding scholars bowing respectfully. He cleared his throat, his voice booming throughout the square: "Fellow scholars, the Pingjiang Literary and Poetry Competition is divided into preliminary and final rounds, in the order of poetry and lyrics. Anyone who can compose a seven-character quatrain or a lyric can enter the semi-finals; those who can quote classical texts and integrate the principles of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism into their writing can directly enter the finals! The preliminary rounds will now begin, with a one-hour time limit. You may demonstrate your skills on the spot. After one hour, you will enter the finals!"

As soon as the words were spoken, a stir arose among the crowd. The scholars quickly grabbed blank sheets of paper and rushed to the long table to grind ink and lay out paper. Some bowed their heads in contemplation, tapping their fingers lightly on the table as they pondered the words; others wrote furiously, the rustling of the pen across the paper mingling with the chirping of cicadas, the sound of flowing water, and the tinkling of copper bells in Jiangnan, creating a unique rhythm for the literary gathering. Taoist monks mostly wrote landscape poems, Buddhist believers mostly wrote Zen poems, and Confucian scholars mostly wrote poems on history and expressing their aspirations. Each had its own merits, but few produced truly outstanding works; they were mostly just ordinary descriptions of scenery and sentiments, lacking any originality.

Su Qingxuan did not rush to write. He walked slowly to the front of the altar, bowed to the elders, and spoke in a clear and gentle voice, but with an undeniable certainty: "I am Su Qingxuan, a native of Qingxi Town in Jiangnan. I wish to register for the competition and request the final position, so that I may not compete with you scholars in the preliminary round."

The room fell silent upon hearing this.

The once noisy square fell silent instantly. The scholars put down their pens and looked up at Su Qingxuan, their eyes filled with surprise and confusion. Several elders, all venerable figures in the literary world, saw that Su Qingxuan was dressed in plain clothes and was quite young, only fourteen or fifteen years old. He had handsome features and a calm and gentle demeanor, unlike the impetuousness of ordinary youths. They were first taken aback, but then their expressions turned displeased.

Lin Xueyuan, the instructor of Pingjiang Prefectural School, was nearly sixty years old. With a square face, dressed in a scholar's robe, and holding a jade-handled whisk, he stroked his white beard and said coldly, "Young man, the literary gathering has its rules. Even in the preliminary rounds, you have to compete with thousands of scholars. Yet you want to be the finale. Isn't that a bit too arrogant? You should know that the Pingjiang Literary Gathering is not just a competition in a small town in Jiangnan. It brings together millions of famous scholars from the Great Xia Dynasty. The finale position requires talent that can command the audience! At your age, I'm afraid... you haven't even finished reading the classics and history, yet you dare to speak so arrogantly. Are you perhaps trying to gain the empty title of 'arrogant youth'?"

The surrounding scholars laughed and joked. Some said, "This kid has probably read a few books and doesn't know his place!" Others said, "Judging from his simple blue robe, he must come from a poor family. He probably doesn't have the money to invite famous scholars. At such a young age, can he really produce a decent poem on his own? And he dares to ask for the final spot?" A Taoist cultivator even sneered, "Young man, have you heard of the Three Teachings and want to gain some empty fame? You don't even know the rules of the literary gathering? The final spot, huh? You little brat, you've got some nerve."

Lin Jingxing stepped forward, pointed at Su Qingxuan, and said arrogantly, "Boy, the final position at the Pingjiang Literary Gathering has always been reserved for the best in the literary world. You're only about ten years old. Go back and study hard for a few years before coming back. However..." Lin Jingxing changed his tone, "If you're really capable, you can compete with me in the preliminary round. If you can beat me, I'll acknowledge you as the finalist!" Lin Jingxing also wanted to take this opportunity to win first place and put Su Qingxuan down to show off his own reputation.

Faced with the skepticism and ridicule of the crowd, and Lin Jingxing's provocation, Su Qingxuan smiled slightly, still bowing respectfully. His tone was calm, yet every word was firm and resounding. The youthful vigor hidden within his profound understanding of the unity of the three teachings was now fully revealed: "This junior is not arrogant, but simply confident. From a young age, I have a photographic memory. The Four Books and Five Classics, as well as the classics of the three teachings, are all thoroughly memorized. After years of studying abroad, I have traveled extensively, seeing the world from the top of Mount Tai and understanding the vastness of the ocean from the Yangtze River. My heart is filled with grandeur, and my pen can express the universe. If I cannot amaze everyone with my poetry today, or convince them with my arguments, this junior is willing to... retire from writing, return to my hometown, and never again participate in literary gatherings!"

His clear voice pierced through the laughter of the crowd, echoing across the square like a waterfall striking rocks. The young man's clear voice held no timidity, but rather a resolute certainty, which stirred the hearts of several elders. Chen Xiu stroked his beard, his gaze falling on Su Qingxuan. Seeing his clear eyes, unlike those of a pretentious person, and hearing of his "photographic memory" and "travels throughout the land," he felt a surge of curiosity.

Chen Xiu, the headmaster of Jiangnan Academy, was a scholar in his seventies who had passed the imperial examinations. He had dedicated his life to upholding Confucian principles and was also well-versed in Buddhist and Taoist doctrines. He had traveled extensively, discussing philosophy with eminent monks and Taoist priests, and was a man of great learning. He waved his hand, signaling for silence, and said in a gentle yet firm voice, "Instructor Lin, please allow this young man a chance. The Pingjiang Literary Gathering is meant to establish a path for scholars and to pave the way for the propagation of the three religions. If he truly possesses extraordinary talent, what harm is there in giving him the final prize? Grant him that position, and when the time comes, let's see if he can win over the crowd with his talent!"

Seeing Chen Xiu speak, and glancing at the surrounding scholars, Lin Xueyuan knew that further refusal would make him appear petty and lacking in manners. He could only nod and say, "Since Headmaster Chen has spoken, I will grant your request. But you must remember, if your words and writings are inferior to those of ordinary scholars, don't blame me for... stripping you of your future prospects!"

This warning carried a heavy weight; an ordinary scholar would never gamble with his future. Su Qingxuan understood perfectly. Since he harbored ambitions for the world and wished to use his position in the imperial court to serve the people, the risk to his personal future was nothing to fear. What harm was there in taking a gamble for the sake of all living beings? Besides, he was confident in his plans. So he thanked the two men and turned to the long table behind the poetry gathering platform. On the table were plain paper, an inkstone, and an ink stick—the inkstone being a Duan inkstone, and the ink stick a Huizhou ink stick, all of the finest writing implements. He didn't rush to write; he simply brushed the dust off the edge of the inkstone, picked up the ink stick, rubbed it between his fingers, and the fragrance of ink permeated the air. He then picked up a piece of plain paper and laid it on the table, his movements calm and unhurried, displaying the demeanor of a Confucian master. Su Qingxuan had been raised in a family of scholars and farmers since childhood, integrating the principles of the three religions into his very being, possessing the spirit of Confucianism, the charm of Taoism, and the heart of Buddhism. Usually reserved and understated, his unexpected outpouring now exuded a captivating aura in every gesture.

The crowd gradually gathered, their eyes all focused on the boy, some with disdain, some with curiosity, and some with anticipation.

Lin Jingxing stood by the altar, holding a water clock in his hand. He looked at Su Qingxuan, smiled, and cupped his hands, saying, "Brother, please go first!" As he spoke, he gestured for Su Qingxuan to proceed. He looked down on Su Qingxuan for not being able to compose good poetry, so he could both gain an advantage by writing later and also subtly put Su Qingxuan down.

Su Qingxuan didn't delay. He understood that who went first wasn't important; what mattered was composing a poem that would overwhelm everyone present and display his extraordinary talent. He looked up at the Jiangnan scenery of Pingjiang Prefecture: clear streams flowed through the city, painted bridges spanned the landscape, and awning boats shattered the reflections of clouds on the water. Willows drooped along the banks, brushing against the bluestone paths, and distant green mountains appeared and disappeared in the mist, like a traditional Chinese ink painting. He was filled with mixed emotions—this was his first time returning to the heart of Jiangnan after five years away from home. The scenery before him was strikingly similar to the landscape of Qingxi Town from his childhood, yet his heart was also filled with the vicissitudes and lofty ambitions of returning from the capital. The devastation of Luoyang, the suffering of the people, and the corruption of the court flashed through his mind, transforming into a burning desire to save the world.

He dipped his brush in ink, flicked his wrist, and the brush tip landed on the plain paper. His strokes were vigorous yet graceful, flowing like clouds and water, completed in one breath. In no time, he had written four lines of seven-character quatrains:

Scenes from the Pingjiang Literary Gathering

The scenery of Pingjiang enters the poetic eye, with painted bridges and awning boats drifting on the water.

The three religions share the same origin, with the heart as their foundation; a single raincoat in the mist and rain helps the land of China.

In just four lines and twenty-eight characters, the poem seamlessly blends the scenery of Pingjiang with the profound principles of the three religions and the poet's own lofty aspirations. The first two lines depict the scenery: painted bridges, awning boats, and flowing water—all unique features of Jiangnan. The vivid imagery and profound atmosphere seem to transport the reader to the misty, rain-swept Qingxi River. The last two lines express the poet's feelings and aspirations. The phrase "the three religions share the same origin, and the heart is the foundation" highlights the poet's own Daoist heart, subtly echoing the Doctrine of the Mean's "What Heaven imparts to man is called human nature; to follow our nature is called the Dao," directly pointing to the core of the unity of the three religions. The line "A straw raincoat in the misty rain to save the land" expresses the poet's grand ambition to serve the world and enter officialdom. It alludes to Su Shi's "A straw raincoat in the misty rain, let life take its course," but adds the youthful ambition and passion, creating a broad and magnificent vision.

After finishing writing, Su Qingxuan put down his pen, gently unfolded the plain paper, and handed it to several elders.

Several elders, all literary giants, were initially taken aback upon seeing the poem, then bent down to read it carefully, growing increasingly astonished with each reading. Lin Xueyuan's hand, stroking his whisk, trembled slightly. He shifted his gaze from the poem to Su Qingxuan, his expression shifting from disdain to awe. His voice even trembled slightly: "This poem... this poem uses scenery to express aspirations, integrating the three teachings into one poem. It uses 'the heart as the foundation' to point out the core of the Great Way, and 'saving the land' to express the ambition to save the world. Young man, you... you actually possess such talent!"

Chen Xiu was even more astonished, pointing to the poem and saying, "'The three teachings share the same origin, with the heart as the foundation.' I've heard that at the Mingdao Conference in Yique, the Venerable Master Chengkong once said, 'The principle returns to the one heart, and the application of different teachings unites to form the foundation!' Young man, you not only possess quick wit and talent, but also a heart that understands the unity of the three teachings—truly rare! Truly rare!"

Seeing this, the surrounding scholars also gathered around to look at the poem, and after reading it, they were all speechless. Those who had been laughing earlier now looked ashamed, bowing their heads to their own mediocre landscape poems, feeling utterly inferior. One young scholar murmured, "What I wrote was merely 'Misty rain on the calm river, a black-awning boat rocking at dusk,' compared to this poem, it's simply utterly insignificant..."

Su Qingxuan did not stop. He took another sheet of plain paper, picked up his brush, and wrote again. This time, it was a poem, titled "Partridge Sky." His brushstrokes became more lively, and his artistic conception more profound.

Partridge Sky - Expressing Sentiments at the Pingjiang Literary Gathering

The misty rain locks the painted pavilion on the Pingjiang River, and the clear stream winds around the fragrant isle.

With a Confucian heart dedicated to serving the world, he inherited the legacy of the sages; with a noble spirit soaring to the clouds, he flowed freely.

Zen is profound, the traveler's heart is at ease, the three religions share the same path and the same land.

Once I entered officialdom, I brought peace and prosperity to the people; I will not fail the green hills or the autumn.

This poem depicts the misty rain over Pingjiang in the first stanza and expresses the poet's own aspirations in the second. "Confucian heart to save the world" inherits the teachings of Confucius and Mencius, "lofty ideals" combines with the naturalness of Laozi and Zhuangzi, and "far-reaching Zen" integrates the etherealness of Buddhism, fusing the essence of the three religions into one. "The three religions share the same path and the same land" reiterates the essence and ideal of the unity of the great way. The last line, "Once I enter officialdom, I will bring peace to the people, and I will not fail the green mountains or the autumn," blends the determination to serve the people with the sentiment of the landscape of Jiangnan. It has both the youthful vigor and the sense of responsibility of a great man for his country, without any pretense, but with pure sincerity.

Both works, one a poem and the other a lyric, were stunning to the audience. Su Qingxuan's profound knowledge of poetry and his mastery of the three teachings were on full display at this moment—expressing his feelings and aspirations without being arrogant, integrating the three teachings into his writing without being incongruous, with just the right balance, and showing his brilliance.

Several elders exchanged glances, all showing approval. Lin Xueyuan looked at Lin Jingxing, then turned to the crowd and said loudly, "Is there any other talented person with a new work that can surpass Su Qingxuan's poem and lyrics?" Seeing no one answer from below the platform, he looked at Lin Jingxing, "And you? Do you still want to go up to the platform to compete?" Lin Jingxing blushed and shook his head, repeatedly saying, "No, no, no, Brother Su's talent is truly admirable!"

Lin Xueyuan nodded. "In that case, I hereby declare that Su Qingxuan's poetry is outstanding and his Daoist heart is pure. He is undoubtedly a worthy candidate for today's Pingjiang Literary Gathering Poetry Competition!"

A thunderous applause erupted from the crowd, growing from a few scattered bursts into a deafening cheer. The scholars stepped forward, bowing respectfully to Su Qingxuan; their previous disdain, mockery, and doubt had all transformed into admiration. Lin Jingxing also stepped forward, bowing deeply to Su Qingxuan, his arrogance vanished, replaced only by shame: "Brother Su's talent far surpasses mine. I was presumptuous before; I hope Brother Su will forgive me."

Su Qingxuan returned the greeting with a cupped hand and said gently, "Brother Lin, you are too kind. There is no first place in literature, nor is there a hierarchy in the Way. We are both learners, and we can encourage and inspire each other."

His astonishing display of poetry was merely Su Qingxuan's first step. He understood that to establish the banner of the unity of the three religions and pave the way for his entry into the court and the salvation of the world, the true test lay in philosophical debate. He turned and strode directly towards the high stone altar for the sages' discourse, bowing deeply to the renowned figures of the three religions before him, his voice resounding throughout the hall: "Esteemed teachers, I, Su Qingxuan, humbly ascend this altar to debate with scholars of the world, to discuss the profound truths of the three religions, and to seek the unity of the Great Way!"

The three renowned scholars of the three religions on the platform were all outstanding figures in cultivation and literature, and they all turned their heads in surprise upon hearing this. Zhao Mengfu, a Confucian scholar, adhered to the Cheng-Zhu school of Neo-Confucianism and always regarded Buddhism and Taoism as unorthodox paths; Xuanzhen, a Taoist, practiced the Daoist philosophy of non-action and despised the Confucian approach of worldly pursuits; Jingkong, a Buddhist, upheld precepts and cultivated his mind, believing that both Confucianism and Taoism were merely worldly appearances. The three were all leading figures in their respective religions. Although they understood that there was no superiority or inferiority among the three religions and that each had its own merits, their identities and positions made them stand on their own grounds. Seeing a young man dare to ascend the platform to discuss the three religions, they all felt an urge to test him.

Zhao Mengyan spoke first, brushing his beard aside, his tone stern: "Young man, poetry is a minor pursuit; the fundamental principle is the Way. Confucianism advocates 'cultivating oneself through worldly affairs, governing the state and bringing peace to the world,' using benevolence and propriety to secure the nation. You claim that the three teachings share the same origin, and you speak of Confucianism's engagement with the world, how can this reconcile with the non-action of Taoism and the otherworldly perspective of Buddhism?"

Su Qingxuan stood upright in the center of the altar, his gaze clear and calm as he replied, "What Commander Zhao said is the essence of Confucianism's engagement with the world. The Analects says, 'A scholar cannot but be resolute and persevering, for his burden is heavy and his journey is long.' This is the responsibility of a Confucian scholar. However, the Daoist Tao Te Ching says, 'Do nothing, yet nothing is left undone.' This does not mean avoiding the world or doing nothing, but rather following the way of Heaven and responding to the will of the people, not acting recklessly or imposing harsh policies. This is essentially the same principle as the Confucian principle of 'governing with virtue.' Confucianism establishes itself in the world with benevolence and propriety, while Daoism safeguards the world with non-action. One is firm, the other gentle; one advances, the other retreats. Engaging in the world is for the benefit of the people, while non-action is for the nurturing of the people. The two are contradictory yet complementary, not irreconcilable."

Upon hearing this, Master Xuanzhen lightly waved his whisk, a hint of surprise in his eyes, and pressed further: "If that's the case, then the Buddhist teaching of 'emptiness and no self, transcending the cycle of reincarnation' is worlds apart from the Confucian and Taoist ideal of helping others in the mortal world. How can they possibly be on the same path?"

Su Qingxuan nodded, quoting scriptures and saying with profound wisdom: "Master, you are mistaken. The Buddhist Heart Sutra says, 'Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.' Emptiness is not nothingness, but the emptiness of breaking free from attachment; form is not worldly dust, but the appearance of sentient beings. The Buddha spoke of 'transcending reincarnation,' and also of 'leaving the world.' What is transcendence? Why leave the world? It is 'universal salvation.' The Buddha's original intention is to lead sentient beings to enlightenment, which is to save sentient beings. Without sentient beings, there is no Buddha. The Buddha's heart, the Confucian 'benevolence for all under heaven,' and the Daoist 'benefiting all beings' all share the same fundamental compassion for sentient beings. Confucianism cultivates benevolence in the mundane world, Daoism cultivates nature in the mountains and forests, and Buddhism cultivates the mind in Zen monasteries. The methods of cultivation differ, but the ultimate goal is 'benefiting sentient beings.' This is the principle that the three teachings share the same root. Therefore, it is said that the mind, the Buddha, and sentient beings are without difference; Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism are without difference. The ordinary person has this mind, and the sage has this mind; the ordinary person and the sage are on the same path!"

Abbot Jingkong clasped his hands together, softly chanted a Buddhist prayer, and slowly spoke: "What you say is true. The path of the ordinary and the holy is the same. All beings have attachments; how can one achieve single-mindedness and reach the state of the ordinary and the holy sharing the same path?"

This question hits the nail on the head, and is also the crux of the millennia-long conflict between the three religions. The scholars and cultivators below the altar all held their breath and waited quietly for Su Qingxuan's answer.

Su Qingxuan looked up at the misty clouds over Pingjiang, his clear voice echoing throughout the square: "The path of the mortal and the sage is the same. Delusion makes one mortal, enlightenment makes one a sage. Confucianism takes 'self-discipline and returning to propriety' as enlightenment, Taoism takes 'embracing simplicity and guarding one's nature' as enlightenment, and Buddhism takes 'enlightening the mind and seeing one's true nature' as enlightenment. Delusion is the same as enlightenment; both are about cultivating oneself and protecting the common people. In the imperial court, Confucianism governs the country; in the distant world, Taoism cultivates oneself; in the mundane world, Buddhism purifies the mind. The unity of the three teachings is not about abolishing the three and establishing one, but about uniting the three teachings to bring peace to the world..." Su Qingxuan paused, knowing the key point was coming, "If I were to enter officialdom... it would not be for fame and fortune, but to use Confucianism to help the world, Taoism to uphold righteousness, and Buddhism to embrace compassion. In the mortal world, I would refine my heart to help others, and in the mundane world, I would become a sage. This is the path of the mortal and the sage, the unity of the three teachings!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire audience fell silent, then erupted in thunderous cheers.

Zhao Mengyan stroked his beard and smiled, a sly look on his face: "Haha, a young man with such a broad mind and vision, our Confucian school has a worthy successor!"

Master Xuanzhen bowed deeply: "The three teachings have returned to oneness... I have learned from your words, and my Daoist heart has become much clearer. I will now return to seclusion. Infinite Heavenly Venerable!"

Master Jingkong clasped his hands in praise: "Amitabha! Your words have broken through your attachments. Your roots of virtue and wisdom are both of the highest quality. However... the path to the unification of the three religions is destined to be arduous and lonely!"

After they finished speaking, the three of them turned and left without lingering.

Elders such as Lin Xueyuan and Chen Xiu all rose to pay their respects. The scholars of Jiangnan were all impressed, and believers from the three religions also praised him. In an instant, Su Qingxuan's name resounded throughout Pingjiang Prefecture.

Just as everyone was cheering, a figure in pure white stood quietly at the back of the crowd, his gaze fixed on the boy in the altar, his eyes sparkling with a strange light.

The woman was dressed in a moon-white ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), with a plain jade hairpin in her hair. She had a slender figure, gentle features, and a scholarly air about her. She was Lin Wanqing, the daughter of Lin Xueyuan, the instructor of Pingjiang Prefectural School.

Lin Wanqing was well-versed in literature from a young age, possessing a deep understanding of Confucian classics, Taoist scriptures, and Zen principles. She was a renowned talented woman in Jiangnan, but because women were not comfortable showing themselves in public, she would observe literary gatherings from the shadows. Su Qingxuan's poems and philosophical discourses had resonated deeply with her; the righteousness of Confucianism, the ethereal nature of Taoism, and the compassion of Buddhism perfectly aligned with her own thoughts and beliefs.

After the crowd had dispersed slightly, Lin Wanqing moved gracefully to Su Qingxuan's side, curtsied, and spoke in a soft, gentle voice: "Young Master Su, your poetry and discourse were astounding, and your arguments were convincing. I am deeply impressed. Your line, 'The three teachings share the same origin, with the heart as the foundation,' resonates with my own thoughts. Would you be willing to discuss with me the profound meaning of 'sincerity and fulfillment of one's nature' in the Doctrine of the Mean, and its connection to the Daoist concept of 'returning to one's roots' and the Buddhist concept of 'enlightenment and seeing one's true nature'?"

Su Qingxuan looked up and saw that the woman had gentle features, an elegant demeanor, and spoke with the air of a learned and refined lady, unlike any ordinary young lady. His heart stirred slightly. His master, Liaochen, had once said, "The mortal world tempers the heart, and the root of love is a tribulation." At this moment, he felt a warm feeling lingering in his heart, but he took it as a meeting of kindred spirits and returned the greeting with a cupped hand: "You are too kind, young lady. It is a pleasure to exchange knowledge."

The two stood by the clear stream, beneath the willows, finding common ground in Confucian classics, in Daoist ideals, and in Buddhist principles. Lin Wanqing quoted the "investigation of things to extend knowledge" from the *Great Learning*, while Su Qingxuan echoed the "daily increase in learning" from the *Tao Te Ching*. Lin Wanqing discussed the Zen principle of "letting go of one thought, achieving boundless freedom," while Su Qingxuan responded to the Confucian ideal of "unity of knowledge and action, and unwavering conscience." From poetry and literature to the doctrines of the three religions, from family and country to worldly cultivation, their words resonated, their hearts connected, and they felt a deep sense of regret for not having met sooner.

Lin Wan was wise and righteous, understanding the great principles of Taoism. She comprehended Su Qingxuan's ambition to save the world and bring peace to the people, and also knew his Taoist heart that unified the three religions. Although there was a feeling of instant connection and regret at meeting too late, she was not like an ordinary woman who was only concerned with romantic love. Instead, she silently cherished this feeling deep within her soul. Su Qingxuan looked into her clear eyes, and for some reason, he too felt a secret affection. With his Taoist heart, he shouldn't be so...frivolous, yet this feeling of falling in love at first sight, though absurd, also revealed a sense of inevitability. Su Qingxuan felt that perhaps there was a hidden secret of heaven and earth in the misty rain of Jiangnan? But he didn't know that this love at first sight contained not only the affection of a chance encounter, but also the karmic cause and effect of ten thousand years of reincarnation.

Lin Jingxing stood aside, watching his younger sister chat happily with Su Qingxuan. He was also pleased, thinking that such a talented young man, if he could be with his sister, would be a beautiful story. Meanwhile, in a corner of the square, a figure in black quietly departed, noting Su Qingxuan's name and words in his hand, and rode swiftly towards the capital—the court had already taken notice of this exceptionally talented young man from the Pingjiang Literary Society.

As dusk fell, the Pingjiang Literary Gathering came to a close. Su Qingxuan's name spread throughout Jiangnan, and scholars from the three religions all regarded him as a fellow believer. He had already taken the first step in paving his way to officialdom. He made an appointment with Lin Wanqing to discuss the Dao again at a later time, bid farewell to the Lin family, and left Pingjiang Prefecture under the twilight, continuing his journey towards Qingxi Town.

Amidst the misty rain of Pingjiang, a young man in a blue robe, possessing extraordinary talent and intelligence, meets a kindred spirit. The banner of the unification of the three religions is unfurled for the first time in Jiangnan.

It is:

In the misty rain of Pingjiang, I met a wise man; in a green robe, we discussed the Dao, our voices resonating clearly.

A chance encounter in this mortal world reveals unknown origins, yet our shared commitment to helping others is admirable.