Chapter 103: This City Has One More Heartbroken Soul
“Who are you?” the young monk said sternly.
Jiang Ce lowered his head to look at his short sleeves and shorts, saying seriously: “I’m a Daoist priest, can’t you tell?”
“Daoist priest?” The young monk was full of disbelief: “Sneaking around, and you claim to be a Daoist priest, so where’s your Daoist robe?”
“Who wears a Daoist robe at home? Do you wear a monk robe at home?”
Jiang Ce sneered contemptuously, then suddenly remembered his past and muttered to himself:
“Oh, it seems you’re right. For a monk, getting up without wearing a monk robe is like eating shit without chopsticks—absolutely unacceptable.”
“How bold! How dare you insult me!”
The young monk flew into a rage, looking like he was about to make a move.
Jiang Ce quickly stopped him, smiling to smooth things over: “No need for that, no need. Just a little joke. Actually, I have a pretty good impression of the Buddhist Sect. I have a friend who grew up in a temple.”
The young monk was clearly innocent and unaware of the world’s dangers, asking suspiciously: “Really?”
“Of course it’s real.”
Jiang Ce laughed heartily: “I suppose you’re here for the Daoist Grand Ceremony too. Come, come, sit here. Let me have a good chat with you.”
The young monk put away his fighting stance. For some reason, although the person in front of him was quite rude, he felt an inexplicable closeness from him, which made him feel very novel.
Because of his special constitution, he had felt close only to those with Buddhist Charm since childhood.
But the person in front of him might not be a Daoist priest, and definitely not a monk, yet he made him feel like he was facing a Buddhist Sect high monk—truly strange.
With the idea of getting to the bottom of it, the young monk sat down with Jiang Ce on two rattan chairs outside a large tent.
While curious, the young monk was also somewhat vigilant: “Are you really a Daoist priest? And you really know people from the Buddhist Sect?”
“Of course. My friend told me a lot about the Buddhist Sect. If you don’t believe me, ask anything—the more expert, the better. If I can’t answer, you win.”
Jiang Ce replied casually.
Those four words “you win” seemed to have magic for everyone from centenarians to young boys. Though they had no real meaning and weren’t even a proper bet, they could maximally stir a man’s competitive spirit.
The young monk was no exception. What surprised him was that whether it was about food, clothing, shelter, daily life, or cultivation practices, the other answered every question effortlessly. Even on Buddhist Scriptures, he knew them like the back of his hand and occasionally offered insights that amazed even him.
This instantly made the young monk feel much fonder of this stranger who didn’t look like a good person, and he couldn’t help asking: “How does a Daoist priest know so much about the Buddhist Path?”
“This involves a matter of self-improvement.”
Jiang Ce said with a smile:
“Although I’m a Daoist priest, I know deeply that all the Taoist Magic I’ve learned comes from our ancestors. It’s like I’m standing on the shoulders of the ancestors to view this world.
Compared to those pioneers and trailblazers, I can learn more at a younger age, but this also brings great limitations.
Do you know what those limitations are?”
The young monk was completely drawn in by Jiang Ce’s words and subconsciously shook his head: “What are they?”
“The limitation is that I’m always seeing this world through the eyes of those pioneers. My ideology, my ability to think, will all be influenced by those old predecessors, leading to a problem: I might gradually lose my ability to judge.”
Jiang Ce explained his insights slowly:
“As a result, even if I achieve something in the future, at root it’s from those predecessors, so the height I can reach is only what they could reach before.
Going further up, I’ll encounter the same shackles and bottlenecks they did. Why?
The young monk thought for a moment: “Because you’re just retracing the path they already walked.”
“Exactly! You’re very smart, you get it right away!”
Jiang Ce snapped his fingers, and the young monk inexplicably felt happy at the praise.
But Jiang Ce wasn’t finished. He continued: “So to overcome this, I must also become a pioneer. Besides Daoist classics, I must engage with other cultures, let them clash and spark new ideas.
So I don’t just study Daoist classics; I also delve into Buddhist Scriptures and learn the Confucian Path. In the future, I might even touch on the Martial Dao.
Because I believe only this way can I comprehend new realms from existing stale knowledge.”
“Impressive.” The young monk sincerely admired Jiang Ce.
“Since you’ve come to the Celestial Master’s Mansion, you’ve surely met other Daoist priests. Have you noticed some are unhappy and unwelcoming about your arrival?”
The young monk nodded: “I have.”
“But I’m different.” Jiang Ce’s attitude was very friendly: “I welcome you very much, because I know deeply that my previous solo research was just armchair theorizing and reinventing the wheel. I’m personally looking forward to debating the Dao with Buddhist Sect high monks.
Just like earlier, my insights on Buddhist Scriptures convinced you—that’s affirmation of my efforts. Conversely, if you refuted me and pointed out issues, I might feel a bit down, but I could correct my mistakes and not keep erring, right?”
The young monk nodded: “You’re the first person I’ve met since leaving Shaolin Temple whom I feel is worth befriending. If all Daoist priests had your mentality, the Daoist Sect and Buddhist Sect could get along harmoniously.”
But who knew, upon hearing this, Jiang Ce showed a look of pity, sighed, his tone full of regret.
“That’s impossible. You think this way because you’re still very naive and pure like me, seeing only black and white good and evil, not the gray in between.”
“What do you mean?” The young monk was puzzled.
Jiang Ce didn’t explain but stood up and walked toward a nearby medicine field: “Come with me.”
The young monk followed and saw that Jiang Ce had arrived at a bare medicine field, with only a few withered spiritual medicines left.
Jiang Ce pointed at those few withered spiritual medicines: “Go try pulling them out.”
The young monk hesitated: “That doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s fine, just do as I say. Pull them out and you’ll understand what I mean.” Jiang Ce persuaded patiently.
The young monk hesitated again, then finally carefully went to the spiritual medicines and pulled one out.
The instant he pulled it out, he seemed to gain insight and stood stunned in place.
After a long time, he finally took a deep breath, his face showing sudden realization:
“I get it! Once the spiritual medicine is pulled out, it can’t be replanted because the roots are broken!
This is just like the relationship between the Daoist Sect and Buddhist Sect. In long history, all roots and stems have been broken and can’t be salvaged—like torn paper can’t be restored, a shattered mirror can’t be made whole again.
And because I’m young, this estrangement hasn’t taken deep root in my heart yet. The storms between the Daoist Sect and Buddhist Sect haven’t reached us or broken the roots in our hearts, so I still hold such fantasies!”
The young monk excitedly turned his head, only to find Jiang Ce gone.
“Huh? Where’d he go?”
But before he could react, he saw Jiang Ce’s figure appear in the distance, dragging along a disheveled middle-aged Daoist priest.
In a blink, the two arrived nearby. The young monk wanted to wave, but he keenly sensed the atmosphere was off.
The previously friendly and close Jiang Ce now seemed like he was facing a great enemy.
“Uncle Zhang, look! I told you there really was a monk stealing our family’s spiritual medicine, but you didn’t believe me. Uncle Zhang, say something~”
That one sentence nearly burned out the young monk’s CPU. He widened his eyes in disbelief, staring at Jiang Ce.
“Uncle Zhang, he’s glaring at me menacingly. Is he going to hit me?” Jiang Ce shrank behind Zhang Ze Zhi, quietly flashing a smug smile at the young monk.
That smile carried many meanings—”Thought you were fishing, but you were so easy to fool”Was worrying what to do with all this spiritual medicine, good thing you showed up”Still too young, mix in society a few more years.”
The young monk wanted to explain but didn’t know where to start. He’d never encountered this situation; his brain actually crashed for a moment, leaving him frozen like a wooden chicken.
Zhang Ze Zhi looked at Jiang Ce with a headache, hinting subtly: “Might this be some misunderstanding? This is a distinguished guest from Shaolin Temple.”
“Shaolin Temple? Even from the Great Thunderclap Temple, you can’t steal!”
Jiang Ce righteously pointed at the medicine field where the young monk stood:
“Look, he doesn’t even spare the dead spiritual medicines, pulls them up roots and all. Leaves nothing behind wherever he goes—what’s to be done?”
Zhang Ze Zhi looked over and couldn’t help exclaiming “Oh?”
He raised an eyebrow at the bare land. Good grief, if you hadn’t said it was a medicine field, I wouldn’t have noticed.
Jiang Ce stood with hands on hips beside Zhang Ze Zhi, frantically badmouthing and presenting evidence that the young monk stole the medicines.
In the end, he even brought up the friendly relations between the Daoist Sect and Buddhist Sect. Zhang Ze Zhi’s expression gradually turned grave, realizing the severity.
Zhang Ze Zhi lowered his voice and said seriously to Jiang Ce: “This matter must not be spread outside, or there might be big trouble.”
“Don’t worry! I know what’s important.” Jiang Ce nodded, gave a disdainful glance at the still-short-circuiting young monk, and spat on the ground.
In truth, Jiang Ce had miscalculated a bit. He sheared all the wool from one sheep. If he’d switched medicine fields, it might not have been noticed. But only after stripping the entire field did he realize this.
Luckily, the young monk came like a timely rain, allowing him to deceive everyone.
In short, Jiang Bao can fly with confidence—someone else will take the blame if things go wrong!
Perhaps because Jiang Ce was outputting wildly in front of Zhang Ze Zhi, making noise, the Old Celestial Master Ci En and others in council in the valley heard and came out to check.
Seeing the Old Celestial Master, Jiang Ce clearly got a bit scared.
He’d already felt he’d offended the Old Celestial Master a bit by making the gatekeeper lose face in the Celestial Master’s Hall, so he hadn’t dared to openly pull spiritual medicines, fearing it would compound the offense and displease the Old Celestial Master.
Though the Daoist Grand Ceremony was important and the Old Celestial Master wouldn’t renege, he’d surely give the Five Thunder Pill after success, but what if he spat in it, added some boogers, and said that’s the original flavor, can’t tell real from fake.
To prevent this, he figured he needed to save face.
But facing the man himself, even Jiang Ce felt a bit guilty.
“What’s going on?” Zhang Ze Xing frowned at Zhang Ze Zhi.
Zhang Ze Zhi laughed it off dryly: “Nothing big, just… uh, Abbot Ci En’s young disciple probably thought it fun and pulled some spiritual medicines from the field. My junior brother happened to see it.”
Junior brother? Jiang Ce was stunned and looked at Zhang Ze Zhi.
With one look from Zhang Ze Zhi, Jiang Ce understood—this must be an identity the Old Celestial Master fabricated to let him participate in the Daoist Grand Ceremony.
The Old Celestial Master’s disciple, huh? Pretty prestigious.
Ci En’s face didn’t look good, because the young monk was still standing in the bare medicine field with his mouth half-open in a daze, holding a withered spiritual medicine in hand—caught red-handed.
“Xue Yuan, you’ve disappointed me too much!”
The Old Celestial Master chuckled and smoothed things over: “Kids are curious, nothing serious. Don’t be angry, old friend.”
Then, he glanced at Jiang Ce with a half-smile: “Disciple, your master and the Shaolin abbot are debating the Dao today. I forgot to tell you—postpone today’s cultivation for now. Go cultivate on your own first.”
Jiang Ce bowed: “Disciple understands.”
After that, he left, unaware of what happened next.
Once outside the medicine field, he retrieved the hidden spiritual medicines from behind a nearby rockery while muttering thoughtfully to himself.
“Still got discovered by the Old Celestial Master. Tsk, overlooked that I shouldn’t have mysteriously appeared in the medicine field—major blunder.”
He put the spiritual medicines into a prepared black plastic bag and staggered toward his own courtyard.
“Whatever, at least it saved face. Does it matter who took them?”
Under the moonlight, in the small courtyard.
Ci En sat on a stone bench, facing Xue Yuan, the young monk crying snot and tears.
“Master, I really didn’t take them. That guy tricked me into doing it.”
Ci En said with heartache: “Of course I know it wasn’t you. Though you’re naughty, quick to anger, lazy, and don’t eat properly, your master knows you wouldn’t steal.”
Xue Yuan cried even louder.
“But why didn’t you explain earlier? You couldn’t even give a name. It was all true, but sounded like you just made it up.”
Ci En sighed.
“I-I was nervous… I didn’t know what to say.” Xue Yuan nearly choked on sobs.
Grievance, frustration, regret at not stepping up in the key moment.
Once away from the medicine field, able to review and organize words, these complex emotions surged up.
Why didn’t I say this or that just now? Waaah, I’m useless.
“But you said that young Daoist priest is also proficient in Buddhist Dharma and the Confucian Path?” Ci En suddenly mentioned Jiang Ce.
“Mm.” Xue Yuan wiped tears and nodded: “His insights on Buddhist Dharma are more refined and profound than some martial uncles and seniors in the temple. He understood everything I said, but his Taoist Magic and Confucian Path I couldn’t follow. He said he’d touch on the Martial Dao later too.”
“Venturing into all four great paths. The Old Celestial Master has big plans.” Worry appeared in Ci En’s eyes.
“What do you mean, Master?” Xue Yuan was puzzled.
Ci En said seriously: “He might be your strong rival in this Daoist Grand Ceremony!”
“He’s participating too?”
“Definitely!” Ci En was very certain: “Do you remember the living legend I mentioned to you, Cao Zheng?”
“I remember, the world’s only Half-Immortal.” Admiration shone in Xue Yuan’s eyes.
“Whether only or not is hard to say, but at least the only one known publicly.
He became a Half-Immortal by engaging with all four great paths. The Old Celestial Master might want to cultivate a second Cao Zheng.”
Ci En paused, then comforted:
“But no matter. The Daoist Sect has its little Cao Zheng, but the Buddhist Sect has you, with Ten Generations of Buddha Heart—not inferior to Four Paths Cultivation!”
“I’ll definitely defeat him!” Xue Yuan gritted his teeth, full of determination.
He’d beat that bastard who framed him into the dirt!
Meanwhile, far on the other side of the Celestial Master’s Mansion, Jiang Ce sneezed.
He looked nervous, waited a long time, but felt no abnormality in his body.
“See, I told you—I’m definitely immune to my own poison.”
Jiang Ce rubbed the half-eaten spiritual medicine in his hand, feeling the emptiness from deliberately depleting his power disappear, very satisfied. He went mad on the spot:
“Yay! When the time comes and I have no strength left, just pop these pills. Storm inhalation ssshhh ssshhh.”
He was utterly unaware that his casual framing had cast a huge psychological shadow on a kind young monk.
This city, because of him, had one more heartbroken person.
Baa, already used to it. Eight thousand words, no going back, waaah.
