46: Special department, secret talks atop the mountain

Three days after the thunder incident, Yuntai Mountain welcomed a true spring rain.

The continuous drizzle washed away the mud on the mountain path and diluted the traces of the four scorched pits. However, the atmosphere in Zhaojiaao Village remained strangely tense—villagers barely spoke when they met, their eyes darting away, as if hiding some unspeakable secret.

That afternoon, a black Audi sedan quietly drove into the village. The car was ordinary, bearing a provincial license plate, but the driver was not—a man with a crew cut, sunglasses, and an upright posture, clearly from a military background.

The car stopped at the village entrance, and three people got out.

In the middle was a middle-aged man in his fifties, wearing a Zhongshan suit, with a refined face, holding a black umbrella. To his left was a sharp, young man in his early thirties, carrying a briefcase. To his right was the crew-cut driver, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings.

"Excuse me, is this the way to Qingfeng Temple?" The middle-aged man stopped a villager, his tone gentle.

The villager looked at the three people, then at the car, hesitated, and nodded: "Yes... but the Abbot isn't seeing visitors these days."

"We have an appointment," the middle-aged man smiled. "Please show us the way."

The villager pointed the direction, and the three walked up the mountain.

Their steps were steady, yet their pace was not slow. The drizzle had dampened the mountain path, but their shoes barely got muddy. Especially the man with the crew cut, each step landed on the most stable spot, clearly a practitioner of martial arts.

Halfway up the mountain, the crew-cut man suddenly stopped and whispered, "Director, someone is following us."

The middle-aged man—the one referred to as Director—didn't turn his head: "Ignore them, it's just villagers being curious."

They continued upwards.

As they neared the mountain gate, the drizzle stopped. Sunlight pierced through the clouds, scattering onto the wet stone steps, creating shimmering reflections.

The mountain gate was open.

Li Muchen stood inside the gate, still in his blue Daoist robe, sweeping fallen leaves with a bamboo broom. Hearing footsteps, he looked up at the approaching figures.

His gaze swept over the three, finally settling on the middle-aged man's face.

"Boundless Fortune," he saluted. "Three Lay Practitioners, you've traveled far."

The middle-aged man returned the salute: "Daoist Master Li, forgive our intrusion. My surname is Wu, Wu Yuanshan. I work for the province. These two are my colleagues."

He didn't state his specific unit, but his demeanor couldn't hide it from others.

Li Muchen nodded slightly: "Lay Devotee Wu, please come in."

He led the three into the guest hall—the small room where he had previously met with Zhou Mingde. The room was still simple, but today incense had been lit, the scent of heart-clearing grass, bringing peace to the mind.

They sat down, and tea was poured.

The tea was wild tea, the water from a well, its fragrance overflowing.

Wu Yuanshan picked up the teacup, sniffed lightly, then took a small sip, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes: "Good tea."

"Just rustic mountain tea, I'm afraid it's nothing special, Lay Practitioner," Li Muchen said calmly.

After the pleasantries, Wu Yuanshan put down his teacup and got straight to the point: "Daoist Master Li, we know about the incident three days ago."

He didn't use "heard," but "know."

Li Muchen looked up at him, but didn't respond.

"Our department is specifically responsible for handling... special incidents," Wu Yuanshan chose his words carefully. "We've actually been paying attention to Qingfeng Temple's situation for a long time. From the abnormal weather last winter, to the ecological anomalies this spring, and then to the... thunderstorm incident three days ago."

He paused, observing Li Muchen's reaction.

Li Muchen remained calm, merely gently turning the teacup in his hands.

"We are not here to assign blame," Wu Yuanshan continued. "On the contrary, we are here to express our apologies. The local comrades' working methods were simple and crude, causing trouble for the Abbot."

These were well-chosen words, but the meaning was clear—they were there to resolve the aftermath, not to investigate.

Li Muchen finally spoke: "Lay Devotee Wu, you overstate it. This humble Daoist cultivates here in peace and does not wish to stir up trouble. If not for weapons being drawn against me, I would not have acted."

"Understood," Wu Yuanshan nodded. "So, we came today to reach a consensus with the Abbot."

"Please speak."

"First, Qingfeng Temple, as a religious activity site, enjoys complete autonomy. Any future development, inspection, or management must first obtain the Abbot's consent."

"Second, we will provide necessary protection for the Abbot's personal privacy and safety. There will be no more unauthorized investigations or surveillance."

"Third..." Wu Yuanshan paused. "If the Abbot is willing, in certain special circumstances, you could provide us with some... consultation and assistance. Of course, this would be entirely voluntary, and there would be corresponding compensation."

The three conditions, each more sensitive than the last.

Especially the third, which was already probing the possibility of "cooperation."

Li Muchen did not answer immediately.

He slowly finished the tea in his cup before saying, "The first two, this humble Daoist accepts. The third... depends on the situation."

"Naturally, it would be an extraordinary situation," Wu Yuanshan took a briefcase from the young man, pulled out a document, but did not open it. "For example, certain phenomena that cannot be explained by science, or... events that might endanger public safety."

He looked at Li Muchen: "We know that the Abbot is not an ordinary person. This world is also far from as peaceful as it appears on the surface."

There was a hidden meaning in his words.

Li Muchen's thoughts stirred, and his Spiritual Sense swept over the document—although separated by the cover, he could perceive that it recorded "abnormal incidents" occurring in various places across the country: archaeological teams collectively losing their memory after opening an Ancient Tomb in a certain area; traces of unknown creatures discovered in deep mountains; and even... Spiritual Qi concentration monitoring data.

Indeed, the authorities had known for a long time.

They knew that this world was changing.

They knew that the transcendent was Awakening.

"This humble Daoist is merely a temple guardian," Li Muchen said slowly. "The Mortal World is tumultuous, and I do not wish to get deeply involved. But if there truly is something that endangers all living beings... a person of the Daoist sect is duty-bound."

No promise, but room for maneuver.

Wu Yuanshan breathed a sigh of relief.

This was the attitude he wanted—not actively intervening, but able to cooperate when necessary.

"That's enough," he put the document back in his bag. "Also, regarding the development of Yuntai Mountain..."

"This humble Daoist will not hinder the development," Li Muchen said. "As long as it doesn't disturb the tranquility of the mountain or interfere with the Daoist temple's cultivation, they can do as they please."

"Abbot, rest assured," Wu Yuanshan said solemnly. "We have already communicated with the county. The development plan for Yuntai Mountain will be fully adjusted, focusing on ecological protection with tourism as a supplement. A core protected area will be designated around Qingfeng Temple, prohibiting any construction."

He paused: "As for those villagers who signed letters of intent... the development company will compensate them according to the contract, but there will be no more coercive actions."

This offered a way out and tangible benefits.

Li Muchen nodded: "That is excellent."

With the matters settled, the atmosphere became much more relaxed.

Wu Yuanshan asked a few more questions about the Daoist temple's history and cultivation methods, which Li Muchen answered one by one, but always succinctly.

As they were leaving, Wu Yuanshan suddenly asked: "Daoist Master Li, if I may be so bold—what method do you cultivate?"

This was a sensitive question.

Li Muchen glanced at him and said calmly: "The Dao follows nature."

"And... what Realm can one reach?"

Li Muchen smiled: "Lay Devotee Wu, the Realm is in the heart, not the body. If the Dao is in your heart, every place is a Daoist temple; if there is no Dao in your heart, even immortal opportunities are in vain."

These words were profound, yet Wu Yuanshan understood them.

He bowed deeply: "I am enlightened."

The three bid farewell and descended the mountain.

When they reached halfway down, the young man who had been silent couldn't help but ask: "Director, what do you think... what Realm is he truly in?"

Wu Yuanshan turned back, looking towards the mountain peak.

The Daoist temple, bathed in the setting sun, was as serene as a painting.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "But one thing is certain—his Realm far exceeds our comprehension."

"Then should we...?" The crew-cut man made a gesture.

"No," Wu Yuanshan said decisively. "Such a person can only be befriended, not made an enemy. If he can summon thunder and gather swords today, what can he do tomorrow? We don't know, and we don't want to know."

He paused, his voice low: "This world is changing, and we need friends, not enemies."

The three descended the mountain in silence.

The setting sun stretched their shadows long.

On the mountain, Li Muchen stood under the ancient cypress tree, watching their receding figures.

Through his Spiritual Sense, he could clearly perceive the "Qi" on them—Wu Yuanshan had a faint official Qi, cultivated from long years in a high position; the young man had scholarly Qi, a learned person; the crew-cut man had Evil Qi, having seen blood.

None of them were ordinary people.

But none were cultivators of the Dao either.

"Special department..." he murmured to himself.

It seems the authorities were not entirely unaware of the Spiritual Qi recovery and the Awakening of the transcendent. They merely chose to handle it discreetly, observing in secret.

This was good too.

At least, for now, there would be no annoying disturbances.

He turned and looked at the Daoist temple.

The afterglow of the setting sun spilled onto the green tiles, casting a warm sheen. The branches and leaves of the ancient cypress tree swayed gently in the evening breeze, making a rustling sound. At the mouth of the Spirit Well, water vapor misted, refracting a seven-colored rainbow in the light.

This century-old Daoist temple could finally return to its tranquility.

But he knew this tranquility was temporary.

The gears of the world had begun to turn, Spiritual Qi was recovering, and the transcendent was Awakening. Today's compromises, tomorrow's balances, were all just the calm before the storm.

One day, this mountain, this Daoist temple, and he himself, would all be swept into a greater torrent.

But, so what?

He walked back to the Main Hall and sat down on the cold jade meditation cushion.

Closing his eyes, he entered meditation.

True Essence circulated, his Dao Heart clear.

If the storm comes, let it come.

He would remain steadfast.

Because the Dao is present.

If the Dao is present, the mountain is present.

If the mountain is present, the temple is present.

If the temple is present, he is present.

That is all.

Outside the hall, the setting sun completely sank behind the western mountains.

Night, quietly descended.

On the mountain peak, a single lamp lit up in the Daoist temple.

Faint, yet resolute.

As if telling this world—

I am here.

Always have been.