Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

On the seventeenth day of the twelfth lunar month, as dawn broke, Cang Tianci, carrying a heavy bag, stepped down from Eagle Cliff.

The snow crunched underfoot, each step feeling like a tug on the heartstrings. His bag contained everything his master had taught him, but heavier still was the secret he had to bring down the mountain and tell his parents in person.

The master said that one month from now would be the time for his passing away peacefully.

"Entering this mortal world is the true path to enlightenment."

His master's parting words still echoed in his ears, yet now they seemed like a prophecy. Tianci took a deep breath, the Hidden Dragon Technique circulating within him, but it couldn't suppress the heavy weight in his heart. The crooked old locust tree at the village entrance was in sight, yet he felt his steps had never been so difficult.

As he pushed open the courtyard gate, the kitchen wafted with his mother's humming tune and the aroma of food. This familiar warmth made Tianci's throat tighten.

"Tianci's back?" Su Yumei peeked out from the kitchen and asked with a smile, "Let your mother see if you've lost weight? Did you eat well on the cliff? Your master..."

She stopped halfway through her sentence.

Her son's expression was off. It wasn't fatigue, but a deep, incongruous solemnity that seemed out of place at this time of homecoming. Her heart skipped a beat, and her smile froze on her face.

"Mother, where is Father?" Tianci's voice was a little hoarse.

"In the main room..." Before Su Yumei could finish speaking, Cang Zhenye had already come out upon hearing the voice. He saw his son standing in the morning light, his shoulders and back straight, yet he carried a calmness that came from weathering the storms of life, and an unyielding heaviness in his eyes.

"You're back." Cang Zhenye nodded, his gaze carefully scrutinizing his son's face. "Why do you look so grim? What happened on the cliff? Is your master alright?"

Hearing this, Tianci knew that his two older brothers hadn't told them about their master's impending death. His brothers must have thought it would be better for them to tell their parents.

He placed his luggage in the corner, turned around, and faced the concerned looks on his mother and father's faces. He wanted to speak but found his throat tighten. He took a deep breath and finally said with difficulty, "Father, Mother, there's something I must tell you. It's about Master."

Cang Zhenye and Su Yumei's hearts jumped at the same time.

"Master... he said that his karmic ties with the world are severed. In one month, it will be the day he... passes away peacefully." Tianci spoke with difficulty, each word as if squeezed out of his throat.

"Passed away peacefully?" Su Yumei dropped the rag in her hand, her face drained of color instantly. "What...what does this mean? Is the old doctor...ill? Or..."

Cang Zhenye felt as if he had been struck by an invisible hammer, jerking up from the stool, his body swaying. He stared intently at his son, his voice hoarse: "Tianci, explain yourself! What's wrong with the old man? Is he unwell? We'll go get a doctor right away... no, the old man himself is a miracle doctor... can we... is there anything we can do?"

Seeing the anxiety, shock, disbelief, and deep sorrow on his parents' faces, Cang Tianci felt a surge of grief he had been forcibly suppressing. He shook his head, his voice low and somber: "Master isn't ill. He said this is the culmination of his cultivation, the end of his journey, like the flourishing and withering of plants, the rotation of stars—it's the natural order. He specifically instructed us not to visit him anymore. When the month is up, he will leave Eagle Cliff, going to a place where no one can find him, to depart quietly. He won't let anyone see him off, nor will he let anyone remember him."

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Su Yumei's tears welled up instantly. She covered her mouth with her hand, and her suppressed sobs finally turned into broken cries: "This...this is not right...The old man saved Xiaohua, healed your father's arm, healed your leg...This mountain of kindness, how can we not even see him one last time...not even send him off..."

Cang Zhenye stood there, hunched over, motionless for a long time. His cloudy eyes stared at the flickering flame, its light flashing in his vision. After a long while, he slowly sat back down on the stool, his back seeming to bend even more.

He murmured and repeated, chewing over the words: "Leave...don't let anyone look for me...leave quietly..." Shock and grief surged across his face like a tide, but at a certain point, they gradually transformed into a deep expression, mixed with endless gratitude and sublime reverence.

"Old sir... he's a true immortal... coming and going with clarity, without any debts or obligations, even his last step was taken with such... clarity, such ease."

He let out a long, deep sigh, a sigh filled with a sense of awe at a state beyond the reach of ordinary people: "We...we must listen to the old man. We will remember his kindness, it is more precious than anything else. He wants to leave peacefully, so...we shouldn't disturb his tranquility."

Su Yumei wiped her tears vigorously with her apron, but the tears kept flowing: "Yes... the old gentleman was a wise and virtuous man... we can only remember his kindness and hope that he... may he rest in peace..."

A heavy sadness weighed on the small main room, and the warmth of the charcoal fire could not dispel the chill.

After a long silence, Cang Zhenye raised his head, looking at his son's pale face and his wife's red and swollen eyes. He knew that he was the pillar of this family and could not collapse at this moment. He vigorously wiped his face, his rough palms making a rustling sound on his cheeks, as if wiping away an invisible layer of haze.

"Child," his voice was a little steadyer than before, with a deliberate strength, "we must respect the path your master... the old man chose. No matter how sad you are, you have to look forward. Life... must go on."

He paused, his gaze falling on his son's tightly pursed lips, and changed his tone, as if he wanted to say something else to pull everyone out of this quagmire of sorrow: "While you were away, a few interesting things happened in the village and at home. Listen to them, just to... clear your head."

Tianci raised his eyes and looked at his father. He understood his father's good intentions—this was a clumsy but solid way of building a stepping stone for him and for this family on the edge of a cliff of sorrow.

"First thing, Wang Zhenkun has fallen." Cang Zhenye said in a calm tone, as if he were talking about old news that had nothing to do with him.

Tianci listened quietly. When he heard the name "Wang Zhenkun," he was first taken aback, but what welled up inside him was not pleasure, but a kind of indifferent calm.

"The county authorities have confirmed that he embezzled funds, colluded with Liu Tietou, and... was also involved with foreign forces behind this bank robbery. He has been dismissed from his post and will be transferred to the judicial authorities for prosecution."

He nodded and said, "This person was bound to end up like this sooner or later."

A hint of relief flashed in Cang Zhenye's eyes: "Good. Second, your second uncle, Cang Yuanzhi, has been unanimously elected as the new Party Branch Secretary of our Xiqiao Village!"

A glimmer of light appeared in Tianci's eyes.

"Your sister Liu Qing even took him to Yanjing and fitted him with the best prosthetic leg. Your second uncle called to say that he walks like a normal person now... Your second aunt was crying so hard on the other end of the phone that she couldn't even speak properly..."

He wiped his eyes and continued, "The third thing is that your great-grandfather, Cang Yunshan, was posthumously recognized as a 'People's Hero.' Our Cang family was awarded the title of 'Family of Heroes.' On the 20th of the twelfth lunar month, leaders from the county and township all came and hung a large plaque in front of the old house. Your grandfather... stood under the plaque, an eighty-three-year-old man, his back ramrod straight..."

Cang Zhenye stood up, pointing outside the door as if the scene were right before his eyes: "The four characters 'Family of Heroes' gleamed golden in the sun. The whole village came out to see. Forty-eight years... Your great-grandfather's name is finally right. The backbone of our Cang family can finally stand straight in the sun!"

Tianci imagined that scene, his heart surging with emotion. The burden that had weighed on him for half a century was finally laid down peacefully.

"There's a fourth thing," Cang Zhenye sat down again, his tone solemn, "because of your great-grandfather's contribution, the government gave him a bonus. Your grandfather immediately stated that he would donate all of this money, without keeping a single penny, as a 'development fund' for our Xiqiao Village."

"Your grandfather said, 'This money is the reputation our Cang family earned with our lives. We accept the reputation. This money must be spent wisely, on the roots of our Xiqiao Village.'"

"With this money, your second uncle is now leading the way. The village has set up a management team to repair the school, subsidize the students, and plan the orchards and medicinal herbs... Your second uncle is very enthusiastic now, saying that he wants to lead the whole village, young and old, on a path to prosperity."

"In addition, your elder brother was rewarded by the government for saving lives in the south of the city. He said he would save that money to start a business. He wants to pave a better road for more poor brothers like himself."

The main room fell silent, with only the crackling of the charcoal fire.

Cang Tianci sat beside his father, processing everything. Wang Zhenkun's downfall, his second uncle's rebirth, his great-grandfather's vindication, his donations for public good... This series of changes unfolded like a vast scroll in the month he was gone. And at the heart of this scroll was their Cang family—from a humble "outsider" struggling to survive to a towering "family of heroes."

This weighty rebirth of his family, coupled with his master's impending silent passing, created a strange and profound contrast in his heart. One coming, one going; one being born, one dying—it was as if they represented two extreme forms of life.

"Medicine and martial arts are ultimately techniques, but saving the world is the true path." The master's teachings quietly emerged.

He suddenly understood the deeper meaning behind his father's words at this moment—not only to comfort him, but also to point out the possibility of another "path" at this moment of farewell: a path that is rooted in the soil, protects the everyday life, and comprehends the great way through taking responsibility in the world.

The sun outside the window gradually rose higher, and sunlight streamed through the window frame, casting bright spots of light on the floor of the main room.

For the rest of the day, Tianci went to visit his grandfather at the old house. The two sat silently in front of the "Family of Heroes" plaque for a long time, saying nothing, yet seemingly saying a lot. He walked around the village, receiving warm greetings from neighbors and seeing children playing outside the renovated village primary school. Life was quietly stirring in this land.

When I returned home in the evening, the atmosphere at dinner was still somewhat somber, but it was no longer purely sorrowful. It was a mixture of reverence for my master, cherishing the rebirth of my family, and complex expectations for the future.

Late at night, Tianci sat alone in his room without turning on the light.

Outside the window, the occasional sound of firecrackers still lingered, the afterglow of the Lantern Festival. Against this backdrop of everyday life, the image of his master's aloof and solitary figure repeatedly intertwined with the lively and revitalized scene of his family.

He recalled his master's life, arduous yet magnificent, which ultimately blossomed in the darkest of times into an eternal flower called "The Great Way," transcending joy and sorrow. It was the ultimate peace that came from understanding the essence of life.

He also recalled his great-grandfather's courage and responsibility, his grandfather's forbearance and perseverance, and the choices his father, eldest brother, and second uncle made in the present moment. They were all interpreting "the Way" with their lives.

"Then, what about my path?"

Tianci's gaze pierced through the window, looking at the outline of his family's small courtyard in the darkness, and at the faint light left on for him in his parents' room.

A thought clearly emerged:

I admire my master and yearn for that transcendent state. But the roots of my life are deeply planted in this land, deeply connected to this family, and deeply connected to those around me who need my protection and who love me deeply.

My master said, "Entering the mortal world is the true training ground." This mortal world, these entanglements, this concrete, warm, and sometimes troublesome life is precisely the "true training ground" that tempers me and allows me to comprehend the Great Way.

Can I cultivate the wisdom and realm of "transcendence" while taking on responsibilities and protecting others in the "worldly"? Can I keep the light of my heart burning brightly and comprehend the ultimate truths of the universe while protecting my family and improving my studies and martial arts?

This question, like a watershed, clearly stood in his heart. The answer was not in the scriptures left by his master, nor in the examples of his father and brothers, but on the long road he himself was about to embark on.

He silently rose, walked to the corner, and in the darkness gently untied his bag, taking out the long object tightly wrapped in oilcloth. In the dim light filtering in from the window, he ran his fingertips along the rough surface of the wrapping.

Then, he used both hands to very slowly untie the outermost rope binding the oilcloth.

"Clatter".

The soft sound of the knot loosening was especially clear in the silence. In that instant, the ultimate question in his mind about "transcendence" and "engagement" did not dissipate; instead, it stood there more clearly and firmly. But at the same time, an enlightenment arose: there was no need to rush to find an either-or answer. The Way is revealed in action.

He didn't continue opening the package to peruse those esoteric texts. It was as if untying this outer barrier was itself a ritual of opening, a silent vow and choice.

In the long years to come, he will dedicate his life to cultivation, practice, and enlightenment, using every step, every choice, and every act of protection in this mortal world to unravel the profound principles of heaven and earth, to verify, and to create his own "path."

He gently stroked the cool metal casing of the pocket watch, feeling the steady beating of its movement. Integrity endures through the ages, its constant nature unchanging. To safeguard the light within one's heart, whether on a towering mountain or in the bustling city, so that its light can illuminate the darkness within oneself and warm those around who need light—this is the "Tao" he can now grasp.

Outside the window, the last distant echo of firecrackers faded away. Xiqiao Village was completely enveloped in the stillness of the winter night.

In the heart of young Cang Tianci, a profound contemplation on the meaning of life, value choices, and ultimate destiny unfolds with the lonely yet fulfilling farewell of the wise man atop the distant mountains, and with the new and hopeful beginning of his family, stirring up even more magnificent and resolute waves.

His path has been passed down from generation to generation.