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

Poetry:

He rode alone south out of the capital, narrowly escaping death several times.

An unnamed guardian walks beyond the misty clouds, and I now believe that Heaven has not failed you.

On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month of the ninth year of Jinghe, Luoyang was still shrouded in the inky darkness before dawn. Su Qingxuan led a dappled blue horse out of Anhua Gate alone. His pack was simple, containing only a few volumes of scriptures he often read and two changes of clothes. The jade pendant hanging at his waist was a peace buckle, tied by his mother herself; it was warm to the touch and gleamed faintly in the morning light.

Looking back, the outline of the imperial city was faintly visible in the morning light. The scene of the debate in the Golden Hall five days ago was still vivid in his mind—the gloomy face of Prime Minister Zhang Congyao, the forced smile of the Imperial Uncle Liu Chengye, and the gazes of those who were either admiring or jealous, which were interwoven like a spider web in the background of his future path.

"Lord Su, your journey is long and arduous, please take good care of yourself." The old eunuch who saw him off said this, but there was a hint of pity in his eyes.

Su Qingxuan bowed in return from his horse. He knew where this pity came from—a poor scholar of just over fifteen years old with no connections, carrying the shocking idea of ​​"the unity of the three religions," was going to Qingxi County, the most entrenched officialdom in Jiangnan, which was no different from a child carrying a precious jade in a bustling market.

A swift horse trotted southward, its hooves clattering on the thin frost of the official road. The sound of its hooves was particularly crisp in the open morning fields, startling a few crows that fluttered past the bare branches. Su Qingxuan sat upright on the horse, his back as straight as a pine tree. After years of traveling and studying, traversing the north and south of the country alone, this scene of walking alone in the early morning was already commonplace.

This time, however, the burden on my shoulders is different.

"The magistrate of Qingxi County, concurrently in charge of the affairs of the three religions." He murmured his new title. A seventh-rank county magistrate was a dime a dozen in the officialdom of the Great Xia Dynasty, but the phrase "concurrently in charge of the three religions" was unprecedented since the founding of the dynasty. Emperor Jinghe wanted him to test the policy of unifying the three religions in this small town in Jiangnan. If successful, it would be extended to the whole country; if it failed, it would be an abyss.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of distractions. Having embarked on this journey, there was no turning back. The Confucian scholar cultivates himself, regulates his family, governs the state, and brings peace to the world; the Taoist follows the natural way, governing through non-action; the Buddhist compassionately guides people, dispelling delusion and leading to enlightenment—the essence of these three teachings must ultimately be practiced in this mortal world. Qingxi, the misty, rain-swept town where he was born and raised, would be the first place where he would practice the Great Way.

First Calamity: Ambush at Cuiyun Mountain

After traveling more than thirty li, the sun was high in the sky, and the number of pedestrians on the official road gradually increased. Su Qingxuan, dressed in blue and riding a black horse, was not conspicuous in the crowd, but his calm demeanor occasionally caught the attention of passersby.

I stopped for a bite at a teahouse at noon. I ordered a bowl of vegetarian noodles and two steamed buns, and ate them slowly with some coarse tea. At the next table, several merchants were having a lively discussion, talking about Su Qingxuan, who had recently presented his strategy at the imperial court.

"...I heard he's only fifteen years old, truly a prodigy!"

"What achievements? It's nothing but pandering to the crowd. The unity of the three teachings? Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism have been fighting over this for thousands of years. How could a young man like him possibly reconcile them?"

"But His Majesty appreciates him, and has exceptionally appointed him as a county magistrate, and even granted him the special privilege of overseeing the three religions..."

"Hmph, the tallest tree in the forest is bound to be felled by the wind. The waters of officialdom in Jiangnan run deep; let's see how long he can keep floundering."

Su Qingxuan kept his head down, eating his noodles, seemingly oblivious. He had heard these words many times before leaving the capital. The old scholars in the Hanlin Academy would praise him to his face, saying "the younger generation is formidable," but behind his back, they would sneer, "a mere child who doesn't know the immensity of heaven and earth." He didn't care. The way of the sages is not about verbal disputes.

The saying "A tree that stands out in the forest will surely be felled by the wind" is indeed true. Su Qingxuan put down his bamboo chopsticks and took out a few copper coins from his pocket, placing them on the table. As he stood up, his gaze inadvertently swept over the corner of the teahouse—there sat a man wearing a straw hat, a bowl of tea in front of him long since cold, yet he hadn't drunk it. Seeing him look over, the man hurriedly lowered his head and pressed down his straw hat.

"Interesting." Su Qingxuan led his horse away, understanding dawning on him. He had only been away from the capital for half a day, and someone was already watching him.

At the hour of Wei (1-3 PM), they arrived at the territory of Cuiyun Mountain. Here, two mountains flank a road, the forest deep and dense, and although it was an official road, it still had a somewhat gloomy feel in winter. Su Qingxuan reined in his horse and slowed down, the righteous energy in his mind flowing naturally—this was what he had gained from cultivating the "Confucian Heart Method" for several years. Although he had not yet reached its peak, it had already made him sharp-eared and sharp-eyed, and his spiritual perception far surpassed that of ordinary people.

The wind whistled past his ears, bringing with it the sound of rustling pines. But mixed in with this sound was another sound—ten feet to his left, there was a rustling of clothes rubbing against each other in the withered grass; behind the rocks to his right, the sound of breathing, though extremely low, could not escape his perception; and above his head, among the branches of the old pine tree, there was the slight tremor of a bowstring slowly tightening.

Thirteen people. They formed an encirclement.

Su Qingxuan remained calm, ready to meet force with force, just as the tide was turning...

He suddenly frowned.

The killing intent remained, yet it was frozen in place. Even more strangely, the bushes three zhang ahead, which should have been an excellent spot for a surprise attack, were now filled with a very faint, exotic fragrance—neither sandalwood nor musk, almost imperceptible, like the stale scent of fallen leaves mixed with ancient scriptures in a mountain temple in late autumn.

Just as he was pondering this, a sudden change occurred.

"Well--"

From the withered grass to the left, a short, muffled groan came, as if someone had choked him. The groan was so faint that Su Qingxuan would have barely heard it if he hadn't had exceptional hearing. Immediately afterward, a soft cracking sound came from behind a rock to the right, like a broken neck. Above, on a pine branch, there was a rustling sound of something heavy falling, accompanied by a barely audible thud.

Su Qingxuan's spiritual senses spread out like a net, clearly perceiving that the thirteen killing intents were rapidly dissipating. Before each one dissipated, there was an extremely subtle fluctuation of true energy—the fluctuation was neutral and peaceful, without any malevolence, yet it precisely severed the life force.

It took no more than three breaths.

The valley fell silent again, save for the mournful howl of the cold wind whistling through the forest. Su Qingxuan rode his horse to the thicket, dismounted, and examined the area closely. He saw a patch of withered grass lying flat, drag marks on the ground, and several patches of slightly darker soil—bloodstains hastily covered up. He bent down, picked up a handful of soil, and sniffed it. Aside from the earthy smell, he indeed detected a very faint scent of blood.

"Thirteen men, all killed with a single blow." Su Qingxuan stood up, his gaze falling on an old pine tree five zhang away. Seven feet above the ground, there were fresh scratches on the bark, with half a copper coin embedded in it—the edge of the coin was already three-tenths of an inch into the trunk, clearly indicating it had been shot with a heavy force. He stepped forward to examine it closely; the coin's design was peculiar, with a ferocious wolf's head on the front and faintly discernible Di Wen on the back.

Di Man's "Wolf Head Coin".

Su Qingxuan understood. These were assassins sent by the Di people to ambush him on his way to his new post. If they succeeded, they could not only eliminate him, a rising star who advocated resistance against the Di, but also disrupt the political situation of the Great Xia Dynasty.

But... who took care of these people?

He looked around. The mountain path was deserted, the trees were bare and withered, and there was no one in sight. Only that strange fragrance lingered in the air, as if telling a story.

Su Qingxuan bowed deeply to the void: "Regardless of which senior secretly protected me, I thank you in gratitude."

The wind rustled through the forest, but no one answered. Only that strange fragrance gradually faded away, as if it had never existed.

He mounted his horse and continued on his way. As he left the valley, the small bronze seal in his bosom seemed to be reminding him of something.

The Second Tribulation: Night Talk in a Deserted Village

For the next three days, Su Qingxuan traveled by day and rested by night, concentrating his senses at every dangerous spot, but he did not detect any more murderous intent. On the evening of the fourth day, he arrived in the Nanyang region, having missed his lodging, and found only an abandoned village ahead.

The village was small, with about twenty or thirty households. Most of the houses were dilapidated, except for a small earth god temple at the village entrance that remained relatively intact. Su Qingxuan dismounted to inspect it. The temple was covered in cobwebs, the statues were mottled, and the offering table was covered in a thick layer of dust. He brushed away the dust, took out a tinderbox from his bag, and lit a half-burnt candle.

The candlelight flickered, illuminating the four walls. Faded murals, depicting the Earth God and Goddess bestowing blessings upon the harvest, were still faintly visible on the walls, but now the colors had peeled away, the figures' faces were blurred, and a sense of desolation permeated the scene.

Su Qingxuan sat cross-legged on a futon and took out the Doctrine of the Mean to read it carefully. Despite his travels these past few days, he hadn't neglected his studies. Rising early to regulate his breathing and cultivate his inner energy, observing the world during the day, and studying the classics at night had become habits he had developed during his travels.

Upon reading the line, "A gentleman acts according to his station and does not desire anything beyond it," he put down his book and looked out at the deep night outside the temple.

He was acting within the bounds of his position… His current “position” was that of the magistrate of Qingxi County, appointed by the Emperor to oversee affairs related to the three religions (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism). But how many undercurrents lurked beneath this post? Zhang Congyao had held power for many years, his disciples and associates were scattered throughout the land; how could he allow this newcomer from humble origins to shake the foundations of the Confucian faction? Liu Chengye, relying on the influence of the Daoist sect, had cultivated his influence in Jiangnan for a long time; how could he sit idly by while he promoted the unification of the three religions? And then there was that distant Prince Xiao Jing in Heluo, using Buddhism to win over the hearts of the people; his ambitions were far greater…

Just as I was pondering this, I suddenly heard footsteps outside the temple.

The footsteps were light, yet not deliberately concealed. Su Qingxuan looked up and saw an old man in a gray robe, leaning on a bamboo cane, slowly walking into the temple. The old man had white hair and beard, a gaunt face, and eyes that were as clear as a deep pool in the candlelight.

"Young friend, may I borrow your light and your space?" The old man's voice was gentle, with a Jiangnan accent.

Su Qingxuan quickly stood up and offered half of the prayer mat, saying, "Please make yourself at home, sir. This temple doesn't belong to me alone, so please feel free to use it."

The old man sat down opposite him, untied his bundle, took out a rough earthenware bowl, and then pulled out two dry, hard steamed buns, slowly eating them with the water from his gourd. Seeing this, Su Qingxuan also took out some dry rations from his bag and handed half of his to him.

"Thank you, young friend." The old man accepted it without hesitation, broke off a small piece, put it in his mouth, and chewed it carefully.

The two ate their dry rations silently by candlelight. The wind howled outside the temple, and the occasional hooting of an owl made the silence inside the temple all the more palpable.

"Young friend, where are you headed?" the old man suddenly asked.

"He is going to take up his post in Jiangnan."

"Oh? So young, yet already an official of the imperial court, congratulations!" The old man looked up at him. "But why are you traveling alone to your post? Without even a servant?"

Su Qingxuan smiled and said, "I'm taking up this post to do real work, not for show. Besides, I'm young, so traveling around and seeing the world is a way for me to understand the people's conditions."

The old man nodded: "Rare indeed. These days, which official doesn't travel with a large entourage and a great commotion when taking office? It's rare to see someone as simple and unpretentious as you, young friend." He paused, then added, "But the world is not peaceful. Aren't you afraid of encountering bad people traveling alone?"

Su Qingxuan's heart stirred slightly, but his face remained impassive: "Old man, you jest. In broad daylight, on the official road, where would so many villains come from?"

"If not on the official road, then what about outside of it?" The old man's gaze was clear, as if he could see through people's hearts. "For example, in Cuiyun Mountain the other day, those thirteen Di barbarian assassins—if someone hadn't secretly dealt with them, would you still be here safely speaking with this old man?"

Su Qingxuan abruptly stood up and bowed deeply to the ground: "It was indeed Senior who saved me the other day! Qingxuan thanks Senior for saving my life!"

The old man waved his hand: "Sit, sit. This is not something I can do alone." He looked at the night outside the temple and said slowly, "Di Man is not the only one in this world who wants your life."

Su Qingxuan sat down again, his expression solemn: "Please give me your guidance, senior."

"I wouldn't call it guidance, but I have a few words I'd like to say to you, young friend." The old man put down the steamed bun and said seriously, "Young friend, do you know that you have become the target of everyone's criticism? In the court, within the three religions, and beyond the borders, how many eyes are watching you? Zhang Congyao wants you dead because you have shaken the Confucian party's dominance; Liu Chengye wants you dead because you have infringed upon the interests of the Daoist sect; Xiao Jing wants you dead because you have ruined his grand plan; and Di Man wants you dead even more because you are one of the few sensible people in the Great Xia Dynasty."

These words struck Su Qingxuan's heart like hammer blows. He remained silent for a moment, then said, "Qingxuan understands. However, since I eat the emperor's food, I should be loyal to him. Since I have studied the classics, I should follow their path. Though the road ahead is treacherous, I dare not fail to act."

"Well said, 'I dare not, I cannot.'" The old man's eyes showed approval. "Then let me ask you again, if you knew that this journey would be a certain death, would you still go?"

Su Qingxuan said without hesitation, "Go."

Why?

"Because the people of Qingxi are waiting, the people of Jiangnan are waiting, all the people of the world are waiting." Su Qingxuan's eyes were burning. "Waiting for a peaceful world, waiting for harmony among the three religions, waiting for a tomorrow without war and famine. Compared to this, the life and death of Qingxuan himself is as light as a feather."

The temple fell silent. The candlelight flickered on their faces, making the youthful spirit between Su Qingxuan's brows appear even more resolute.

After a long silence, the old man sighed softly, "Foolish child."

He rose, strolled to the temple gate, gazed at the few cold stars in the dark sky, and slowly said, "In this world, there is a group of people. They have no sect, no name, no surname, scattered throughout the land, hidden in the marketplace. They can be found in Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism. They do not seek fame or fortune, but only do one thing—uphold the Way."

"Upholding the Way?" Su Qingxuan murmured.

"Upholding the righteous path of humanity, safeguarding the lineage of the three religions, and protecting all living beings." The old man turned around, his gaze sharp as lightning. "They call themselves 'Guardians of the Three Religions,' a tradition passed down for over a thousand years. In ordinary times, they are woodcutters, fishermen, tutors, doctors, Taoists, or monks, no different from ordinary people. Only at crucial moments do they appear to set things right and protect the path forward."

Su Qingxuan was deeply moved. He recalled the extraordinary encounters he had made on his travels—the monks, boatmen, and hermits who always appeared at crucial moments…the seemingly coincidental enlightenments, the subtle guidance…

"The recluse..." Thinking of this, Su Qingxuan's mind cleared. Although this was the first time he had met the old man before, Su Qingxuan had a strange sense of déjà vu. The recluse who had visited the Su family courtyard when he was young, and the old man before him, their figures slowly overlapped...

Su Qingxuan was still confused when the old man's voice continued to ring in his ears:

"The one who dealt with the Di barbarian assassins in Cuiyun Mountain was the Daoist Guardian. I've come here tonight because I received news that assassins sent by Xiao Jing, the Prince of Heluo, have reached Nanyang territory and intend to attack you when you pass through Black Wind Ridge tomorrow." The old man's voice was deep. "Xiao Jing is narrow-minded and vindictive. Your remarks about the unity of the three religions have ruined his grand plan to win over the people through Buddhism. You cannot escape this calamity."

Su Qingxuan's heart tightened: "Then why is Senior coming tonight...?"

"I'll answer your question." The old man took out an ancient wooden plaque from his robes and handed it to Su Qingxuan. The wooden plaque was warm to the touch, with no words on the front, but a Tai Chi diagram was engraved on the back, with lotus patterns along the edges, and a line of small characters on the side: "Guardians of the Way in the Human World."

"This is……"

"A token of the Guardian of the Way," the old man said solemnly. "With this token, all Guardians of the Way in the world can sense it. It is not used lightly except for extremely important matters, and it is never known to outsiders. Guardians of the Way have always valued secrecy in their actions; once exposed, the consequences will be endless."

Su Qingxuan looked at the wooden plaque and respectfully inquired, "But... what is the connection between this junior and the Guardian of the Dao? Why does the Guardian of the Dao value me so highly?"

The old man gazed at him for a long time before slowly saying, "Because you are the one destined for this calamity."

"The one destined for calamity...?"

"In the degenerate age, the three religions will decline, the fate of the Great Xia will be exhausted, and a great calamity will surely occur within a hundred years." The old man's voice was deep and resonant like an ancient bell. "At that time, the barbarian cavalry will trample the mountains and rivers, the classics of the three religions will be burned in the flames of war, and only one in ten of the cultivation lineages will survive. The human world will become a ghost realm, and all living beings will suffer."

Su Qingxuan felt a chill run down his spine: "Could it be... beyond redemption?"

"The Great Dao is fifty, the Heavenly Evolution is forty-nine, and one has vanished." The old man's gaze was intense. "This 'one' is both a variable and a lifeline, a person destined to unite the three religions and turn the tide. And you, Su Qingxuan, are that 'one'."

Su Qingxuan was struck dumb, speechless for a long time.

The candlelight crackled, and the wind outside the temple grew stronger.

"Senior...is this true?"

"The guardians of the Way have passed down an ancient verse through generations," the old man recited slowly.

He came from a small courtyard, wearing a blue robe, embodying the spirit of a Confucian scholar, the heart of a Taoist, and the nature of a Buddhist.

Having endured countless tribulations in the mortal world, one day he attained enlightenment and settled the universe.

Su Qingxuan was terrified. The first two lines of this verse were almost identical to those spoken by the gray-robed hermit in Qingxi Town years ago, who had given him the mantra "Confucianism is for establishing oneself, Taoism is for traveling far, and Buddhism is for returning to one's heart"!

"You are...?"

"I am the guardian of this generation... the one you have in mind... we have met before." The old man's eyes showed reminiscence. "Thirty years ago, I sensed that the person destined for calamity would emerge from Jiangnan, so I traveled the world and finally met you in Qingxi Town. That day, under the shade of the osmanthus tree outside your courtyard, I saw you facing the humiliation of being annuled, yet you did not change your mind. I knew then that the verse had come true."

So that's how it is. It turns out that from the age of eight, his life has been intertwined with the rise and fall of the world and the survival of the three religions. These past few years of traveling and studying, more than ten years of hard work, all the ups and downs, gains and losses, have all been guided by such a profound divine will.

Su Qingxuan stared blankly at the candlelight, suddenly feeling an immense weight on his shoulders.

"Are you scared?" the old man asked gently.

After a long silence, Su Qingxuan slowly shook his head: "No. Qingxuan just... suddenly understands why I've always had this obsession in my heart all these years, feeling that I shouldn't only seek fame and fortune in this life, and shouldn't just live a life of self-cultivation. It turns out that there was a mission in the dark all along."

He rose and bowed deeply to the old man: "This junior is foolish and ignorant, but I am grateful for the protection of you seniors and all the guardians of the Way. Now that I know my destiny, I should forge ahead without hesitation. However..."

"Just what?"

"But I am, after all, just a mortal, a being of flesh and blood, with all seven emotions and six desires." Su Qingxuan raised his head, his gaze clear and firm. "For the sake of all living beings, I am willing to go through fire and water; but I also want to protect those I should protect—my parents, my close friends, and those I cherish in my heart."

The old man stared at him for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.

"Foolish child, foolish child!" The old man laughed, then said seriously, "Who told you to sever all emotions and desires? The three teachings return to one, returning to the Great Way, not to extinguish human desires. Confucianism speaks of benevolence, Taoism values ​​nature, and Buddhism speaks of compassion. Aren't they all true human emotions? If you become a heartless and desireless clay or wooden statue, you will lose your true self. How can you shoulder this heavy responsibility?"

He stood up, walked over to Su Qingxuan, and patted him on the shoulder: "Remember, what the guardians protect is not only the lineage of the three religions, but also the continuation of this mortal world, human emotions, civilization... Your filial piety towards your parents, your loyalty to your friends, and your affection for your beloved are all the foundation of your cultivation, and you must not abandon them lightly."

Su Qingxuan's eyes welled up with tears, and he could no longer rise from his bow.

The old man helped him up and took out a thin book from his bosom: "This is the 'Notes on Upholding the Way,' which contains the observations and insights of those who uphold the Way throughout the ages as they traveled the world. They have unique perspectives on the cultivation of the three religions and the myriad aspects of life. Keep it safe and read it slowly on your journey."

"Thank you, senior."

"Go." The old man looked at the sky outside the temple, which was gradually turning white. "It's almost dawn, you should set off. Remember, the guardian only intervenes in life-or-death situations. You must overcome the ordinary hardships yourself."

Su Qingxuan carefully returned the wooden plaque to the old man, put away the book, kowtowed again, and got up to lead his horse.

As he reached the temple gate, he suddenly turned back: "Senior, may I ask your esteemed name..."

"The guardian of the Way has no surname or name." The old man smiled, his palms pressed together, his figure gradually blurring in the morning light. "You only need to remember that in this world, the Way is not alone."

As soon as he finished speaking, the old man vanished without a trace. Only the last remaining candle in the temple suddenly burst into flames, crackling and extinguishing itself in its dying embers.

Su Qingxuan stood there for a moment, then bowed deeply towards the temple before mounting his horse.

As dawn broke, the mountain path wound its way forward. He rode on, traveling a long way before looking back. The abandoned village temple was now hidden in the morning mist, with only a wisp of smoke rising—the candle he had lit the night before, finally burned out.

The heavy roll of "Notes on Guarding the Way" pressed against his chest gave him a sense of peace.

The Third Tribulation: Thunder at Windstone Ridge

Leaving the deserted village, Su Qingxuan traveled south. He would take out and peruse the "Notes on Upholding the Way" given to him by the old man whenever he paused for a break. This thin book, though only a few dozen pages long, contained a wide range of information: Confucian insights on cultivating qi, Taoist methods of refining qi, Buddhist meditation techniques, and the observations and reflections of masters from the three religions on their travels throughout the world, offering unique perspectives on the hardships of the people, the gains and losses of the government, and the key points of spiritual cultivation.

One of the pages records the insights of a Taoist priest from a hundred years ago:

Having traveled throughout the land, I have seen disciples of the three religions, many of whom are confined by sectarian prejudices. Confucian scholars criticize Buddhism and Taoism as empty talk, Taoists laugh at Confucianism and Buddhism for being rigid, and Buddhists denounce Confucianism and Taoism for being attached. Little do they know that the three religions share a common origin and all return to the heart. The benevolence of Confucianism, the naturalness of Taoism, and the compassion of Buddhism are truly three sides of the same coin. Today, people divide themselves into different schools and argue about who is superior and who is inferior, which is truly putting the cart before the horse and is both pitiful and lamentable.

Su Qingxuan felt a pang of sympathy upon reading this. That day at the Pingjiang literary gathering, he had vehemently advocated for the unity of the three religions, which was precisely this principle. However, he had been young and impetuous; while he could articulate the theory clearly, putting it into practice was far more difficult than he had imagined. Now, to truly promote the unity of the three religions within a single county, the difficulties involved were unimaginable.

On another page, another passage was recorded:

Upholding the Way is not merely about self-cultivation, but about benefiting all under Heaven. In the past, Confucius traveled throughout the states, Lao Tzu left Hangu Pass, and Buddha renounced his throne to become a monk—none of these were for personal gain. We, the upholders of the Way, may hide in the mountains or in the marketplace, seemingly doing nothing, but in reality, we correct wrongs at crucial moments and silently protect the righteous path. Heaven and Earth bear witness to our hearts and our aspirations.

Su Qingxuan closed the booklet and gazed at the distant mountains. Guardians of the Way, guardians of the Way… So there has always been such a group of people in this world, protecting the righteous path in places unknown to anyone. How fortunate he was to have their favor and to be able to shoulder this important responsibility.

However, this is a heavy responsibility.

As noon approached, a precipitous mountain ridge appeared ahead. The ridge was sparsely vegetated, with jagged rocks, two peaks facing each other, and a canyon in the middle, shaped like a gateway, which the locals called "Fengshikou" (Wind Stone Mouth). Because of its treacherous terrain and the constant howling of cold winds, it was named Fengshi Ridge (Wind Stone Ridge).

Su Qingxuan reined in his horse and looked towards the entrance of the canyon. He saw scattered rocks and gnarled, withered trees, and a chilling aura swept over him. His inner energy circulated naturally, protecting his body, and he could already hear unusual sounds coming from within the canyon—

It wasn't the sound of wind, but the sound of breathing. Heavy, suppressed breathing, carrying a murderous intent. At least twenty people were lying in ambush on both sides of the cliff.

They arrived as expected.

Su Qingxuan took a deep breath and touched the jade pendant at his waist. The old man said, "The Way is not lonely." He wondered how the guardian of the Way would protect him today.

He gently spurred the horse's belly, and the green horse slowly stepped into the canyon.

Upon entering, the light suddenly dimmed. The towering cliffs on both sides blocked out the sun, leaving only a sliver of light overhead. The ground was covered with loose rocks and treacherous rapids, and the horses' hooves made a crisp "clattering" sound as they trod on it, echoing clearly through the canyon.

As they reached the middle of the journey, a mournful cry of a crow suddenly came from ahead.

Su Qingxuan looked up and saw a black crow swoop across the narrow strip of sky and take flight. Just then, a deafening roar echoed from the cliff above—

Countless boulders rolled down, some as large as millstones, others as small as bowls, raining down relentlessly! If they were to hit a solid target, not only would a person be crushed to pieces, but even an iron-clad Arhat would be pulverized!

Su Qingxuan's pupils shrank suddenly, and he was about to activate his internal energy when another change occurred!

From the depths of the canyon, a clear and melodious sword cry suddenly rang out!

"Clang—"

The sword's cry, like a dragon's roar, echoed through the valley. Immediately afterward, three sword lights shot into the sky from the end of the canyon! One was blue, one was white, and one was red. The three sword lights, like dragons emerging from the water, intertwined into a net in the narrow canyon, heading towards the falling boulders.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The sword light collided with the boulder, unleashing a deafening roar. The cyan sword light, supple as water, swayed the boulder aside; the white sword light, sharp as frost, cleaved the boulder into fragments; the crimson sword light, blazing as fire, incinerated the fragments into dust!

In the blink of an eye, the overwhelming rain of boulders was dissolved into nothingness by the three sword lights!

At the same time, screams of agony echoed from the cliffs on both sides of the canyon.

Su Qingxuan looked up and saw three figures appear on the cliff to his left—one in a green robe, sword in hand, standing there; one in a white robe, sword in hand like an immortal; and one in red, fingers pointing like a sword. The three moved again, like ghosts and phantoms, leaping and bounding across the steep cliff. Wherever they passed, the archers and axemen lying in ambush fell like wheat being harvested.

On the right cliff face, three figures were also clearing out the ambush. The three were dressed differently: one was a scholar, holding a ruler; one was a Taoist priest, making hand gestures; and one was a monk, chanting scriptures. The three worked in perfect harmony, their movements swift and efficient; in just a few breaths, they had cleared out most of the ambush on the right.

Su Qingxuan could see clearly that these six people were no ordinary individuals. The swordsman in the green robe subtly embodied the Confucian principles of righteousness; the swordsman in the white robe contained the Daoist principles of nature; and the one in red, empty-handed, displayed a Vajra-like intent in his finger-pointing swordplay. The three on the right, in particular, had mastered the techniques of Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism, their attacks flowing seamlessly together. Had Su Qingxuan not possessed a perception far exceeding that of ordinary people, he too would have been unable to discern the subtle differences between their respective schools.

Keepers of the Way.

Su Qingxuan understood. Only a Daoist with a pure Dao heart could cultivate the three teachings to such a level and coordinate them so seamlessly.

In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the canyon was deathly silent. The twenty-odd ambush soldiers were either dead or wounded, and no longer had the strength to fight. After dealing with the remaining enemies, the six guardians did not land, but instead leaped a few times on the cliff face and disappeared into the depths of the canyon. From beginning to end, they did not utter a word or reveal their true faces.

Only the lingering sword energy, Daoist charm, and Buddhist light in the canyon still trembled slightly in the air, telling the story of the thrilling battle that had just taken place.

Su Qingxuan bowed deeply in the direction where the six people had disappeared.

He led his horse onward. Once they emerged from Fengshikou, the view suddenly opened up before them, revealing distant mountains like dark eyebrows and vast, desolate fields—they had already entered the territory of Nanyang.

Beneath an old pine tree by the roadside lay a rough earthenware bowl, its water still warm. Underneath the bowl was a slip of paper with eight characters written on it:

The road ahead is long, so let us not change our original aspirations.

The handwriting is vigorous and the ink is still wet.

Su Qingxuan picked up the earthenware bowl and drank the water in one gulp. The water was sweet, with the refreshing coolness of a mountain spring. He placed the bowl back and bowed to those around him, saying, "Thank you."

The mountains and forests were silent, and no one answered. Only the wind rustling through the pines seemed to whisper and sing.

Final Journey: Within Nanyang City, undercurrents begin to emerge.

At 3:45 PM, Su Qingxuan arrived in Nanyang City.

Nanyang was an important town in the Central Plains, with towering city walls and majestic gate towers. When entering the city, the guards checked his travel permit. Seeing that he was an official on his way to take up a post, they dared not be negligent and respectfully let him pass.

The city streets were wide, lined with shops, and bustling with pedestrians, making it quite prosperous. Su Qingxuan found a clean inn to stay in, washed away the dust of his journey, changed into a clean blue robe, and then went downstairs for a meal.

The inn's lobby was quite lively, with merchants, scholars, and commoners all chatting about recent events. Su Qingxuan chose a corner to sit down, ordered a bowl of vegetarian noodles and a plate of vegetables, and listened quietly.

"...Have you heard? The new magistrate of Qingxi County is a mere ten-year-old boy!"

"I've not only heard about it! I also know that he gave a long speech in the Golden Hall a few days ago, talking about the unity of the three religions, and offended the Prime Minister and the Emperor's brother-in-law!"

"Tsk tsk, this young man is ignorant of his own limitations. What kind of place is Qingxi County? It's the territory of the powerful families of Jiangnan, full of Zhang Xiang and Liu Guojiu's protégés and old friends. If he goes there, isn't he just courting death?"

"Not necessarily. I heard that His Majesty greatly admires him, and even bestowed upon him a jade pendant, granting him the right to speak frankly to the emperor..."

"So what? Even a powerful dragon can't suppress a local snake. I heard that people in Jiangnan have already said they'll make sure he doesn't stay in office for more than three days!"

Su Qingxuan kept his head down, eating his noodles, as if he hadn't heard a thing. He had expected these words. Qingxi County was the seat of his hometown, Qingxi Town, a major town in Jiangnan, and also the place where Zhang Congyao and Liu Chengye's influence was deeply entrenched. This journey was destined to be fraught with difficulties.

Just then, two men sat down at the next table. One was dressed as a scholar, about thirty years old, with a handsome face; the other was dressed as a merchant, with a friendly expression. The two ordered wine and food and began to talk in hushed tones.

"...Is the news accurate?"

"It's absolutely true. Prime Minister Zhang has already sent word to Jiangnan to 'treat this Magistrate Su well.' Imperial Uncle Liu is also making moves; it's said he sent someone to Qingxi to give him a hard time."

"What about Xiao Jing...?"

"Shh—keep your voice down. That guy's influence can't reach Jiangnan, but on the road... hehe, you know what I mean."

The two men spoke in hushed tones, almost inaudible to Su Qingxuan unless his hearing was exceptional. He understood immediately—Zhang Congyao and Liu Chengye intended to sabotage him in Qingxi, while Xiao Jing had laid an ambush on the road. These three forces, though with different motives, all aimed to prevent him from taking up his post.

"Very well." Su Qingxuan put down his bamboo chopsticks, a resolute glint in his eyes. Since there was no way to avoid it, then he would face it head-on. The Confucian scholar cultivates himself, regulates his family, governs the state, and brings peace to the world; this path must ultimately be forged through thorns.

He got up, paid the bill, and returned to his room. He opened the window and saw that the city of Nanyang was just beginning to light up, and the streets were bustling with people—a scene of peace and tranquility. But beneath this peace, undercurrents surged, and danger lurked everywhere.

Su Qingxuan took out the book "Notes on Upholding the Way" from his bosom and stroked it carefully. The book was warm and slightly heated in his palm, as if responding to his thoughts.

"The Guardian of the Way..." he murmured to himself.

Along the way, the guardians twice came to his rescue from danger. Yet they remained anonymous, protecting him silently like a gentle spring breeze. This kindness and sense of responsibility deeply moved and warmed him.

It turns out that this world is not just about power struggles and deceit. It turns out that, in places unknown to others, there have always been people who uphold justice and protect the common people.

"I am not alone," Su Qingxuan said softly, carefully putting the book away from his body.

He laid out paper and ground ink, and by candlelight, wrote a letter to his parents. In the letter, he only reported that he was safe and sound, that his journey was smooth, and that he would arrive in Qingxi soon, asking them not to worry. He also wrote a short message to Lin Wanqing, a few words about the hardships ahead and his thoughts.

After writing and sealing it, he summoned the waiter and asked him to deliver it to the post station the next day.

After completing these steps, Su Qingxuan sat cross-legged on the couch, regulating his breathing and cultivating his inner energy. The harmonious flow of the three teachings' true energy within his dantian circulated slowly and continuously. Over the past few years, his cultivation had never ceased. Although he didn't yet know his exact level, he figured he was likely not far from reaching the same level as his masters, Xuanqing and Liaochen. However, the true obstacle on this path of cultivation never lay in the techniques themselves, but in the human heart.

Outside the window, the drums beat. The night in Nanyang City deepened.

Su Qingxuan opened his eyes and looked south. Qingxi, the small town where he was born and raised, was now in front of him. There was the familiar Qingxi River, the low walls and courtyards, the expectant gaze of his parents, and also the open and hidden attacks, conspiracies and intrigues that awaited him.

But he wasn't afraid.

Because the Way is in one's heart, because the Way is not lonely.

I blew out the candle and sat quietly to regulate my breathing. Tomorrow I must continue my journey; the road ahead is long.

That night, Su Qingxuan's mind was at peace. In meditation, he returned to the Qingxi Courtyard, sat under the old osmanthus tree, and read the Analects. A spring breeze blew, and osmanthus blossoms fell softly, landing on the yellowed pages of the book and on his faded blue robe.

In the distance, the Qingxi River flows quietly, flowing towards the misty Jiangnan region and towards the unknown future.

It is:

A lone rider in a blue robe departs the capital, where he has faced numerous calamities, which have since dissipated like rosy clouds.

Upholding the Way without seeking fame, the world is vast; clear streams and misty rain are my home.