Mortal: Traveling Between Two Realms with Mei Ning to Pick Up Trash

Fifteen years have passed in the blink of an eye.

Countless bamboo leaves have fallen and sprouted again, yet under the eaves of the Green Bamboo Pavilion, the chessboard remains, the teacups remain, and the three people playing chess are still there.

Zhou Yu has been stuck at the peak of the early Foundation Establishment stage for ten years.

The drop of blue liquid in his dantian hung quietly, as if it were frozen in place by something.

He tried seclusion, tried elixirs, and tried circulating the "Canglang Technique" hundreds of times, but that thin bottleneck always stood in front of him. He could see it and touch it, but he just couldn't break through it.

What is a clear and bright mind on the Dao? What is a steadfast mind on the Dao?

I've read the book countless times and recognize every word, but when I close the book, I still don't understand it.

Han Li recently noticed that Zhou Yu was spacing out more and more often.

Sometimes, even when the tea has cooled down, I would just hold the teacup and let my gaze fall on the bamboo grove outside the window.

Sometimes, sitting at the chessboard, holding a chess piece in my hand, I would linger for a long time without putting it down. When I came to my senses, I didn't even know what I was thinking.

The sky was clear and bright after the rain that day.

Han Li and Master He were playing chess under the eaves. The black and white pieces on the chessboard were mostly in place, and the game was very close. Neither of them spoke, and the only sound was the crisp sound of the pieces hitting the board.

A white piece landed in a strange position, neither an attack nor a defense, nor a strategic move. It was like a person walking along when suddenly and inexplicably turned into a dead end.

Han Li frowned as he looked at the move, and Zhou Yu frowned as well. They snapped out of their reverie and looked closely. The white piece was hanging alone in the air, with no other pieces around it, like a forgotten chess piece.

Han Li's hand, holding the black chess piece, stopped in mid-air. He looked up at Master He and asked, "Master He, what do you mean by this? Are you letting me win?"

Master He neither denied nor admitted it. He stroked his beard and smiled, a faint smile that seemed to convey a sense of calm as if he had let go of something.

"To my shame," he said softly, "my lifespan is nearing its end, and I have no hope of achieving the Golden Elixir. Starting tomorrow, I will prepare to go into seclusion. As for this chess game..." He looked down at the lone white piece on the chessboard, shook his head, and said no more.

The game of chess isn't over yet, but there's no need to continue.

Han Li frowned, stood up abruptly, reached out and picked up the white piece from the chessboard, placing it back into the chess box in front of Master He.

"This doesn't count," Han Li said. "We'll fight again when you come out of seclusion."

Master He looked at him, paused for a moment, and then burst into laughter. He did not refuse and took the chess piece back.

Master He turned to look at Zhou Yu, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment. His eyes held scrutiny, a wide-eyed look, and the kind of kindness that an elder would show when looking at a younger person.

"Little Zhou," he said, lowering his voice, "your talent far surpasses mine. Although you haven't said it, I know that you have at least a two-colored spiritual root, and perhaps even a heavenly spiritual root."

Zhou Yu opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything.

Master He poured him a cup of tea. The steam rose up and blurred his features. He pushed the teacup in front of Zhou Yu, picked up another cup for himself, and took a sip.

"I've noticed that you seem to have some pent-up feelings all this time, with something on your mind that you're unwilling or unable to talk about." Master He put down his teacup, looked at the bamboo in the courtyard, his gaze distant. "I've lived for so long, and now I can barely be considered your elder, so I still have to tell you."

"I have lived for 203 years," Master He said. "For the first hundred years, I thought cultivating the Tao was about competing, competing for spiritual energy, competing for elixirs, competing for others' respect. For the second hundred years, I thought cultivating the Tao was about enduring, enduring lifespan, enduring loneliness, enduring until the people around me passed away before me. Only in recent years have I gradually come to understand."

He picked up the teacup, but didn't drink; he just swirled the rim around in his hand.

"In the end, the cultivation of Tao is nothing more than cultivating the ability to recognize words, to recognize one's own path, to recognize one's own destiny, and to recognize what the inextinguishable fire in one's heart really is."

The aroma of tea wafted up, and he looked at Zhou Yu through the thin layer of white mist.

"You are a hundred times more talented than me, but the fire in your heart burns darker than anyone else's. It's not because the fire is not strong, but because you dare not let it burn. You are afraid that it will burn the past, that it will burn through the path you came from, and that the firelight will illuminate the things you don't want to see too clearly."

He paused.

"I am dull-witted and have stumbled throughout my life. I have only reached the Foundation Establishment stage by the time I am old. But if someone asks me, 'Does He regret his life?' I will only say one thing: I acknowledge every leaf that fell on that road and every snowstorm that struck."

He gently set the teacup down.

"You don't need to tell me what you're afraid of, but let me give you a piece of advice: whether you have a celestial spiritual root or a pseudo-spiritual root, cultivating immortality is not about choosing the right path, but about making the path you've chosen the right one."

I hope that when you look back someday, you can say—I have no regrets.

Zhou Yu looked at Master He, the old man who had been with him the longest in this world.

"Old He..."

Master He waved his hand, his gaze returning to the clump of bamboo swaying in the wind in the courtyard. "No need for further words."

Zhou Yu looked at the old man.

He paused for a moment.

He then reached into his storage bag, and a pill appeared in his palm.

Han Li's pupils contracted sharply when he saw the pill.

Master He was also stunned. He looked down at the pill for a long while before raising his head, "This is... a Dust-Clearing Pill?"

"Yes," Zhou Yu said.

Master He's face immediately hardened, like an old man scolding a child who didn't know any better. "You should put this away quickly. My lifespan is almost over, and the reason I can't break through is mostly due to myself. Even with this Dust-Reducing Pill, it won't help. I suppose you prepared this Dust-Reducing Pill for your own Core Formation. Your talent far surpasses mine, so don't waste it."

He reached out and pushed the pill back, his fingers trembling slightly.

Zhou Yu did not answer.

He looked at Master He and pushed the pill forward again.

"I still have one of these pills, so I'm not short of any," Zhou Yu said, as if he had already planned what to say. "Please accept it, Elder He. I don't want to regret it later."

The last four words were spoken slowly and deliberately.

The courtyard suddenly fell silent. The wind stopped, the bamboo leaves ceased rustling, and even the water droplets dripping from the eaves seemed to slow down. Han Li stood to the side, still holding the now-cold cup of tea, neither speaking nor moving.

He looked at Zhou Yu with a scrutinizing gaze, surprise, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on, as if he were getting to know this person all over again.

Master He looked into Zhou Yu's eyes.

Those eyes had a serious look that said, "No matter what you say, it's useless."

Master He suddenly laughed.

He did not refuse again.

He reached out his slightly trembling hands and took the pill. The pill landed in his palm, warm and heavy.

"You child," Master He's voice was a little hoarse, but the corners of his mouth were curved, "you are too soft-hearted."

Zhou Yu smiled and did not refute.

Outside the window, water droplets on the bamboo leaves continued to fall, one by one, dripping onto the bluestone slab with a soft, pattering sound.

The three people sat under the eaves, and none of them spoke again.

Master He carefully put the Dust-Clearing Pill into his sleeve. He raised his head, looked at the sky, then at the bamboo in the courtyard, and let out a long breath.

"Tomorrow, I will go into seclusion." His voice was calm.

Han Li nodded. "I'll wait for you to come out of seclusion."

Master He laughed heartily, stood up, and dusted off his robe.

He nodded to Zhou Yu, then to Han Li, and then, with his hands behind his back, slowly walked out of the courtyard. The bamboo shadows fell on his shoulders, swaying back and forth. His hunched back gradually blurred in the depths of the bamboo forest, finally being swallowed up by a sea of ​​green.

……

After Master He left, the shop suddenly became much emptier.

It wasn't the emptiness of someone being missing, but the emptiness of sound. The chessboard was still in its original place, the chess pieces were still in their box, and the tea in the teacup was still steaming, but something was missing.

The sound of muttering as he placed his pieces was gone, as was the sound of clapping and laughing after winning the game, and the phrase "Come on, let's play another game."

Han Li sat behind the counter, holding a teacup in his hand. Zhou Yu leaned against a pillar, his gaze fixed on the bamboo grove outside the door, washed clean by the rain.

Neither of them spoke, each lost in their own thoughts.

The silence was like a stone, pressing down on people and making it hard to breathe.

A voice came from outside the door, soft and with a hint of urgency.

"Shopkeeper, Zhou Yu, are you there?"

Zhou Yu and Han Li exchanged a glance, their eyes conveying no communication, only a tacit understanding—unease.

The two got up and walked to the door.

Xiao Tan stood outside the door, holding an oil-paper umbrella in her hand, clearly having walked all the way here.

Her face was even paler than last month, as white as a sheet of paper, with only a faint trace of color remaining on her lips. She leaned against the door frame, her chest rising and falling slightly; she was already out of breath after walking just a few steps.

"Sister Xiaotan, what's wrong?" Zhou Yu asked, even though he already knew what she was going to ask.

"Xiao Qin... he hasn't contacted me for several months." Xiao Tan's voice was a little tight. "He said he went to the open sea. Can... can you get in touch with him?"

Zhou Yu glanced at Han Li, whose gaze was fixed on the ground, seemingly looking at something.

"Ah..." Han Li paused for a moment, his voice not loud, "Brother Qin, he hasn't contacted me yet. I'll try to find out for you." He spoke slowly and cautiously.

Xiao Tan nodded, her anxiety fading somewhat.

"Sister Xiaotan, you should go back first," Zhou Yu said softly. "You're not feeling well, so don't wander around outside. Brother Qin will worry if he finds out."

"Mmm," Xiao Tan responded.

She held up her umbrella, turned around, and walked away.

Zhou Yu stood at the door, watching that thin figure walk away little by little.

When she reached the corner of the bamboo path, she stopped, leaned against a bamboo stalk to rest for a while, and then continued walking until the lush greenery completely enveloped her.

Han Li stood beside Zhou Yu, looking at the empty bamboo path, and sighed softly.

"Wait for me at the store," he said.

Zhou Yu nodded.

Han Li pushed open the door and went out.

Zhou Yu stood alone in the empty shop, putting away the teacups on the counter, straightening the chess pieces on the chessboard, and pressing down the labels that had been blown askew by the wind.

A long time passed.

After a while, the light outside the window changed from bright to dim yellow.

The door was pushed open.

Han Li walked in, his expression was not good, and there was a faint shadow between his brows.

Zhou Yu stepped forward. "What's wrong?"

Han Li didn't say anything, but simply placed a storage bag on the counter.

There is a phonograph record inside.

Zhou Yu fell silent after reading it.

"Should we say it like Brother Qin instructed, like Sister Xiaotan?" Zhou Yu's voice was a little hoarse.

Han Li remained silent for a moment.

"have no idea."

Zhou Yu went outside and looked at the dark clouds that were beginning to gather again.

The plot is just a plot; when you actually put yourself in someone else's shoes, the emotions are much stronger than when you were just seeing things through a fog.