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

Poetry:

Spring rain gently nourishes the pond, and the ink in the courtyard exudes a refined fragrance.

A child's gentle words reveal the true nature of reality; upon encountering a recluse, they discuss the Three Cardinal Guides.

In the third year of the Jinghe era, the Jiangnan region was never short of lingering spring rain. The drizzling rain, like silkworms spinning silk, wove an endless veil, enveloping the entire town of Qingxi in Pingjiang Prefecture. The white walls and black tiles gleamed warmly from the rain, the bluestone paths were covered with a thin layer of damp moss, and the water flowing under the bridge rippled gently. Willows drooped along the banks, and the wind blew through the green curtains, immersing the entire town in a clean, refreshing mist, like a long, still-wet ink painting scroll.

The blue brick floor of the Su family courtyard gleamed softly after the spring rain. The two old osmanthus trees in the yard, having absorbed enough moisture, had leaves that were a deep, vibrant green. Raindrops hanging from the branches swayed gently in the breeze, occasionally falling and shattering into tiny water droplets on the bluestone. Nourished by the spring rain, the vegetable seedlings in the corner of the wall grew even greener and more lush, their leaves glistening with dewdrops, bursting with vitality. On the stone table lay the family heirloom, "The Confucian Mind Method," its ink scent mingling with the earthy aroma and the fresh fragrance of plants, slowly spreading in the damp spring breeze, creating the most tranquil atmosphere in the courtyard.

Since his first glimpse into the profound principles of Confucianism at the ferry crossing and the transmission of the "Confucian Mind Method," Su Qingxuan's days have been as precise and orderly as an ancient clock, without the slightest slackening. Every day at the crack of dawn, he would rise on time, first washing his hands and face with clear spring water, then straightening his faded coarse blue robe, before gently sweeping the courtyard with a bamboo broom—sweeping leaves without breaking branches, brushing away dust without disturbing ants, his movements gentle and orderly, every action subtly embodying the Doctrine of the Mean and the Way of Peace. Once the courtyard was clean, he would burn incense and sit quietly for a while, rectifying his mind and heart, before picking up Confucian classics to recite. During the day, he would practice the "Confucian Mind Method," and at night, he would practice calligraphy to cultivate his inner energy, never ceasing his practice from morning till night, his character and cultivation increasing day by day.

The old man at the ferry crossing's teachings of "each to be in their proper place, each to fulfill their responsibilities, and each to guard their own heart," the essential principles of the Confucian Mind Method passed down by his father, and the calm and steadfastness honed by the annulment of the engagement, had already shed the boy's childish naiveté. He still looked like an eight-year-old, but his brows had already developed a calm and dignified demeanor far beyond his years. He was surrounded by the upright and peaceful aura of a Confucian scholar, his eyes were clear as autumn water, and his pupils were deep as if they contained the heavens and the earth. Whenever his eyes flickered, it was always with a serene composure untouched by worldly clamor.

The villagers of Qingxi Town completely shed their sympathy and regret over the annulment of the engagement, and instead felt heartfelt respect and admiration.

The gossip of yesteryear has long since vanished with the spring rains of Jiangnan. Now, when the townspeople see Su Qingxuan, young and old alike stop and bow with smiles; even the most gossipy women immediately fall silent and look at him with utmost respect as he passes by; even the town's most mischievous children quiet their playfulness and imitate his gesture of respect. The villagers often gather under the osmanthus tree and sigh, "The Su family's young boy is a born gentleman. Poverty and hardship cannot sway his will, nor can honor or disgrace disturb his heart. Such character and bearing are beyond the reach of ordinary children!"

Human nature is always subtle; if you are weak, you will be bullied; if you are strong, you will be respected; if your heart is upright, no one will dare to insult you. Su Qingxuan established himself with virtue and showed others his integrity. In just a few days, he made the people of Qingxi Town see the true weight of a Confucian scholar amidst their sycophantic and impetuous nature.

The rain subsided slightly that day, and the wind tore a gap in the thick clouds, allowing the sky to brighten and let in soft, fragmented light. Su Qingxuan finished reading the passage "I am good at cultivating my vast and righteous spirit" from Mencius's "Gongsun Chou," closed the book, shut his eyes, and regulated his breathing and focused his mind according to the "Confucian Mind Method." The warm and gentle righteous spirit flowed slowly through his chest and abdomen, making his meridians smooth and his mind clear. He could clearly perceive the vitality of the old osmanthus tree in the courtyard, the greenery of the vegetable patch, the refreshing spring rain, and even the subtle spiritual energy wandering between heaven and earth, all of which flowed into his dantian with his breath, merging seamlessly with his own Confucian spirit.

The concept of "harmony between man and nature," which was once only understood intuitively, is now truly felt—heaven and earth are born together with me, and all things are one with me. The Confucian saying "all things are complete within me" is not empty talk, but a real state of mind where the heart is connected with heaven and earth.

"Brother Qingxuan!"

A clear, childlike voice called out from outside the courtyard gate, accompanied by light footsteps, carrying the pure warmth unique to children.

Su Qingxuan opened his eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips, and got up to push open the door. Standing at the alley entrance was Zhang Atao, about seven or eight years old, with her hair in two buns, wearing a pink cotton jacket, her trousers stained with mud, raindrops dampening her bangs, her little face flushed, clutching a handful of rapeseed flowers still wet with raindrops, and craning her neck to peer into the courtyard.

Zhang Atao was his neighbor, and you could say they were childhood sweethearts. She was the kindest girl in town. After the annulment of the engagement, others either sympathized or gossiped, but she was oblivious to the coldness of the world. She only thought that Brother Qingxuan was gentle and handsome, so she often picked some wildflowers and wild fruits to bring to him, accompanying this quiet boy with the purest kindness of a child.

"Atao, come in quickly, the road is slippery from the rain, be careful not to fall." Su Qingxuan stepped aside to let her into the courtyard, his voice gentle and doting, like that of an older brother.

Zhang Atao skipped and hopped into the courtyard, handing a rapeseed flower, still wet with raindrops, to Su Qingxuan. Her little face was full of joy: "Brother Qingxuan, the rapeseed flowers by the river are in bloom, they're so beautiful! I'll pick some for you to read."

"Thank you, Atao." Su Qingxuan took the rapeseed flowers, turned around and took a small rough pottery jar, filled it with water, inserted the rapeseed flowers into the jar, and placed it on a corner of the stone table. The golden rapeseed flowers paired with the rustic pottery created a unique and elegant charm, adding a touch of vibrant color to the poor courtyard.

Zhang Atao tilted her head back, blinked her big, watery eyes, and looked at the ancient books on the stone table. Curious, she asked, "Brother Qingxuan, don't you get bored reading and writing every day?"

Su Qingxuan gently brushed his fingertips across the cauliflower petals, his tone gentle: "Reading is never boring. Books contain the myriad phenomena of the universe, the wisdom of sages, and solutions to save the world. They are inexhaustible in their content and endless in their insights, so how could they be boring?"

Atao nodded as if she understood, but then suddenly remembered the gossip of the old people on the street and asked innocently, "They said that you were jilted by Sister Shen, aren't you sad?"

A simple, childlike remark touched the softest part of the heart. An ordinary child would likely have been ashamed and wept, but Su Qingxuan simply smiled faintly: "Don't be sad. If we're meant to be, we'll be together; if not, we'll part. Everything has its cause and effect; why force it? Why be sad?"

"What is karma?" A-Tao tilted her head, looking completely confused.

"Cause and effect are like peach trees that bloom in spring and bear fruit in autumn, and rivers that flow eastward and never turn back. Flowers will eventually fall, and clouds will eventually disperse. Everything has its own trajectory. There is no need to be attached or force things." Su Qingxuan's words were simple, but even he himself did not know that these words contained the profound meaning of the three teachings—the Confucian moderation of impartiality, the Taoist non-action of following nature, and the Buddhist understanding of non-attachment and non-grasping. The seeds of the three teachings had quietly emerged in the young man's words.

Zhang Atao gave a vague "oh" and then asked curiously, "So, what kind of person will Brother Qingxuan marry in the future?"

Su Qingxuan couldn't help but chuckle, reaching out to pat her little head. He looked towards the misty Jiangnan region outside the courtyard and said firmly, "I only wish to study, cultivate myself, comprehend the ways of sages, and do things to help the world. As for other things, we can talk about them another time when the time is right."

Just then, three soft knocks came from outside the courtyard gate. The sound was steady and measured, unlike the casual and impetuous manner of the villagers or the arrogance of the powerful and wealthy, but it revealed a transcendent and otherworldly air.

Su Qingxuan's heart stirred slightly. He got up, walked to the courtyard gate, and gently opened the wooden door.

An unfamiliar old man stood outside the door, dressed in an old gray robe, the hem faded from washing, yet neat and wrinkle-free; his figure was slender and upright, his beard and hair as white as silver, neatly combed; his face was ruddy, with shallow wrinkles, and his eyes were clear as an autumn pool, revealing a profound understanding of the world; he leaned on an ordinary jujube wood cane, without any jewels or jade ornaments, yet it exuded an air of authority. Most remarkably, although the spring rain had just stopped, and the ground was wet and slippery, there wasn't a single water stain or dust on the old man's clothes and shoes, as if an invisible barrier surrounded him, shielding him from the world's storms.

Su Qingxuan, with his clear-mindedness since childhood and having cultivated Confucian mental techniques, was already able to sense an extraordinary aura in the world. He could feel that this old man was no ordinary passerby, so he immediately bowed and greeted him with a gentle and respectful tone, displaying the proper etiquette of a Confucian scholar: "Greetings, sir. I am honored to have you grace my humble abode with your presence. What brings you here?"

The old man's gaze fell on the young man, scrutinizing him from head to toe. A hint of surprise and approval flashed in his eyes, and a gentle smile appeared on his lips. "Young friend, there's no need for such formality. I was just passing through when the rain stopped. Seeing how quiet the courtyard is, I'd like to rest under the eaves for a moment. Is that alright?"

"You flatter me, sir. My courtyard may be humble, but it is enough to accommodate you. Please come in and have a seat. I will offer you a cup of tea as a token of my hospitality." Su Qingxuan stepped aside to offer his seat, his manners humble and measured, without a trace of the awkwardness of a poor family or the arrogance of a young man.

The old man nodded and slowly walked into the courtyard. His steps were light and steady, his gaze sweeping over the old osmanthus tree, the verdant vegetable patch, the ancient books on the stone table, and the rapeseed flowers by the window, before finally settling on Su Qingxuan, his eyes softening even more. Atao timidly hid behind Su Qingxuan, peeking out with her little head, secretly observing the kind old man, without feeling any fear whatsoever.

Su Qingxuan invited the old man to sit on the stone bench, then turned and went into the house to fetch a large, rough porcelain bowl. He scooped up some clean rainwater from the stone vat in the courtyard, pinched a pinch of his own sun-dried coarse tea, and presented it to the old man with both hands: "My family is poor and has no fine tea or utensils. Please don't be offended, sir."

The old man took the teacup, his fingertips lightly touching the rim. He felt a gentle, scholarly air emanating from it, and his heart was filled with admiration. He took a sip of the coarse tea, showing no sign of disdain, and instead smiled, saying, "A cup of clear tea is most refreshing. Young friend, at such a young age, you treat guests with courtesy and cultivate yourself with respect. It is truly rare to find someone who maintains integrity despite living in poverty."

His gaze fell upon the copy of Mencius on the stone table, and he slowly asked, "Young friend, you recite the classics every day, diligently cultivating Confucianism. Do you know what the highest realm of a Confucian scholar is?"

Su Qingxuan pondered for a moment, then bowed and replied, "In my humble opinion, the highest realm of a Confucian scholar is to cultivate sincerity and rectify one's mind, to cultivate oneself and benefit the world, to help others when successful, and to maintain one's own virtue when unsuccessful, ultimately reaching the ultimate good."

The old man nodded slightly and then asked, "In this world, besides the Confucian way, what else is there? Young friend, have you ever considered that the world's learning is not limited to the Confucian school?"

Upon hearing this question, Su Qingxuan's heart stirred slightly. From a young age, his father had taught him Confucian classics and etiquette, focusing solely on the Confucian virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness. No one had ever asked him such a question before. He was intelligent from childhood, and having experienced the humiliation of a broken engagement and his initial enlightenment at the ferry crossing, he was no longer a bookworm who merely memorized scriptures. He immediately answered truthfully, "This humble one is dull-witted, having only cultivated Confucianism since childhood. I know that Confucian scholars govern the world with benevolence and propriety, and establish themselves with trustworthiness and righteousness. As for the other great principles of heaven and earth... I have not yet heard of them."

The old man stroked his beard and smiled, lightly tapping the stone table with his fingertips. His voice was gentle, yet each word was like thunder, penetrating the young man's ears: "Confucianism governs the world, establishing order for humanity; Taoism cultivates the self, harmonizing oneself with heaven and earth; Buddhism enlightens the mind, dispelling delusion for all beings. The three teachings may seem to follow different paths, but in reality, they share the same origin and are one. All seek the Tao, all return to the heart. Confucianism speaks of preserving the heart, Taoism speaks of refining the heart, Buddhism speaks of enlightening the heart—this one heart is the foundation of all laws, the root of all paths."

"Those who cultivate their minds uphold righteousness and benevolence, and establish the integrity of Confucian scholars; those who refine their minds align themselves with the laws of nature and connect with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth; those who enlighten their minds break through attachments and delusions, and see their true nature. The cultivation of the three religions, though different paths, leads to the same goal: ultimately, it is nothing more than cultivating a clear and pure mind."

Su Qingxuan focused his mind and held his breath, as if he had heard the voice of the Great Dao, and his whole body trembled. What the old man said was beyond all his previous understanding, but... it seemed to coincide with his own understanding - the old man at the ferry crossing's "each in its own place" is Confucianism, the gentle breeze in the rain's "going with the flow" is Taoism, and not being bothered by the humiliation of the annulment of the engagement is Buddhism. The three are inherently integrated and seem to have never been separated.

It was as if a brand new door had been opened before him, beyond which lay a vast and boundless world, containing profound truths of the Dao that he had never encountered before. He immediately bowed deeply, his tone extremely respectful: "Your words are profound, sir. I have never heard of them before. They are like the sun breaking through the clouds. I wish to hear more about them."

The old man waved his hand and laughed, "Today's words were just a casual remark. The time is not yet ripe, so there's no need to delve into it. You only need to remember: Confucianism is the foundation of one's character, Taoism is the wings for a long journey, and Buddhism is the other shore for one's heart. Only when the three are united can one attain the ultimate Tao of Heaven and Earth."

Having said that, the old man's gaze casually swept over the corner of the courtyard wall, his eyes narrowing slightly. There, beneath the ancestral altar of the Su family, a faint, shimmering white light was quietly floating, echoing the dignified Confucian aura surrounding Su Qingxuan, blending together in subtle ways.

In the cabinet beneath the offering table lay a small bronze seal, an heirloom passed down through generations of the Su family, its true nature unknown. Su Wenyuan treated it as an ordinary object, storing it alongside a piece of withered wood in a corner of the courtyard. He only used it for offerings on important sacrificial days. Little did he know, it was an ancient Dao seed, concealing a profound secret of the Three Realms! Since Su Qingxuan resolved to uphold his lofty ambitions and cultivate the Confucian mental techniques, these two Dao seeds, dormant for millennia, had been quietly awakened by the young man's pure Confucian heart. Now, listening to the elder speak of the three great Daos, their glimmer of light grew stronger, showing signs of budding forth.

The old man sighed inwardly: This child is destined by heaven to be one with the three religions in harmony. His Confucian heart is beginning to take shape, his Taoist roots are naturally emerging, and his Buddhist affinity is secretly forming. His destiny has been predetermined, without the slightest deviation.

He withdrew his gaze and looked at Su Qingxuan, earnestly advising him: "Young friend, you possess extraordinary talent and a pure heart. You are destined not to be confined to this small town in Jiangnan. In the future, as you travel the world, experience the trials and tribulations of life, and help others, remember these eight words: Do not be misled by external forces, and do not let your heart be trapped. Do not concern yourself with the outcome of your actions, but cultivate your mind only towards the light. Only then can you uphold the Great Way and ultimately achieve enlightenment."

Su Qingxuan stood with his hands at his sides, remembering every word the old man said: "I will remember your teachings, old man, and never forget them for the rest of my life."

Although Zhang Atao couldn't understand their conversation, she felt that the old man was particularly kind. She took out a bright red wild jujube from her pocket, stood on tiptoe and offered it to the old man, her soft, childlike voice saying, "Grandpa, here you go, this jujube is very sweet."

The old man laughed heartily, took the wild jujube, reached out and patted Atao's head, his eyes full of affection: "Good child, your heart is as pure as unpolished jade, untouched by worldly dust. Your destiny will surely come in the future."

Having said that, the old man stood up, leaning on his jujube wood cane, and prepared to take his leave: "The rain has completely stopped, and the daylight is just right. I should be on my way. Today's meeting was preordained by fate. We will surely meet again in the mountains and rivers of the future."

Su Qingxuan quickly stepped forward to see him off: "Old sir, please stay a little longer? I still have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

"No need," the old man said, pausing at the courtyard gate. "The great path must be realized through one's own efforts; guidance from others is ultimately external." He gazed towards the misty Jiangnan region and softly recited four lines of verse. His clear voice carried on the wind, reaching the ears and the heart:

A young man of lofty aspirations, as firm as a pine tree, possessing both Confucian integrity and Taoist spirit, and embodying Buddhist nature.

Having traversed the paths of mortals and saints, one day I break through the barrier and ascend to the heavens.

Before the words were even finished, the old man had already stepped out of the courtyard gate. Su Qingxuan hurriedly chased after him to the gate, only to find the alley empty and shrouded in mist and rain. The bluestone path wound its way forward, but there was no trace of the old man. It was as if their encounter had been nothing but a dream.

Only the bowl of cold, coarse tea on the stone table, the wild dates Ah Tao offered, and the verses imprinted in my heart truly proved that everything that had just happened was real.

Su Qingxuan stood at the courtyard gate, gazing at the misty rain of Jiangnan, his heart filled with lingering unease. The old man's words, like spring rain nourishing all things, seeped into his heart; those four lines of verse, like a guiding light, illuminated his future path of cultivation. The three religions share the same origin, all laws return to the heart, having traversed the mortal world, one breaks through the barriers to the heavens—these words, though he could not yet fully comprehend, were already deeply imprinted in his soul, becoming the fundamental guide for his future cultivation.

Atao tugged at his sleeve, tilted her little face up, and asked, "Brother Qingxuan, why is Grandpa walking so fast?"

Su Qingxuan snapped out of her reverie, gently shook her head, and said softly, "He went where he needed to go. Atao, let's go back to the courtyard."

Back in the courtyard, Su Qingxuan put away his teacup, sat quietly on the stone bench, and repeatedly recited the verse left by the old man, carefully contemplating the true meaning of the common origin of the three religions. Suddenly, he turned his head and caught a glimpse of a faint white halo flashing among the incense and candles in the corner of the courtyard. An extremely pure and tranquil spiritual energy emanated from it, flowing into his body with the spring breeze, instantly merging with the righteous energy in his dantian. His mind immediately felt at peace, and all distracting thoughts vanished.

He stepped forward, examined it carefully, and found nothing unusual. He only felt that the spiritual energy was warm and peaceful, and it was in harmony with his own Confucian spirit. So he stopped to investigate and assumed it was just the clear and gentle air of the earth after the spring rain. He turned around and went back to his study to sit quietly and regulate his breathing.

In the study, the candlelight flickered, illuminating the young man's serene profile. Su Qingxuan closed his eyes, concentrating on his observations and feelings of the day: Confucianism cultivates the mind, Taoism refines the mind, Buddhism illuminates the mind; all the knowledge and methods in the world ultimately boil down to one's original heart. A righteous heart leads to a righteous body; a clear heart leads to a clear path; a bright heart leads to the understanding of all things.

Having grasped this point, I gained a new understanding. Some obscure principles from my past practice became much clearer. The method of cultivating qi in the "Confucian Mind Method" was further improved. The righteous qi in my dantian became more gentle and warm, all the meridians in my body became more unobstructed, my hearing and vision became sharp, and my mind became clear. My practice had progressed to a new level.

The rain outside the window had stopped, a rainbow stretched across the sky, and the glow of the sunset pierced through the clouds, spilling into the courtyard and reflecting on the boy's blue robe, spotless. Su Wenyuan returned and saw his son sitting upright in the study, his demeanor calm and composed, his wisdom subtly revealed. He was filled with joy and quietly withdrew, not wanting to disturb him.

Unbeknownst to him, his son had, in this very encounter, knocked on the door to the unity of the three religions; the seed of Taoism, which reaches to the heavens and the earth, had quietly sprouted on the foundation of Confucianism.

Su Qingxuan slowly opened his eyes, his gaze restrained, calm as an abyss. He picked up a brush and ink, dipped it in, and steadily wrote eight large characters on the hemp paper:

Confucianism is for self-cultivation, Taoism is for long-term travel.

The writing is steady and powerful, with a hidden spirit. Although it is only the handwriting of an eight-year-old child, it already shows the grandeur of a master. Between the lines, one can feel the steadfastness of a Confucian scholar.

The moment I put pen to paper, in an ancient temple a thousand miles away, an old Taoist priest with white hair stroked his beard and smiled: "The root of Taoism has been planted, the heart of Confucianism is settled, and the affinity with Buddhism is not far off!"

In a remote, ancient temple deep in the mountains, a meditating old monk slowly opened his eyes, his gaze filled with compassion, and softly chanted a Buddhist prayer: "Excellent, excellent, the road ahead is long, but there is a final destination."

In Qingxi Town, Jiangnan, at the Su family courtyard, the spring rain has ceased, the world is clear and bright, and a young man stands with pen in hand, gazing into the distance. His path of cultivation has shifted from simple Confucian self-cultivation to the ancient path of the unity of the three religions; his journey through the mortal world has moved from the mundane daily life of a Jiangnan town to a long and arduous journey where the mortal and the saintly coexist.

It is:

The immortal's verses dispel confusion, and the seeds of Tao sprout in the spring of plants.

The three religions share the same origin, with the heart as their foundation; from this mortal journey, one can awaken to one's true nature.