33: Chapter 33 From Mortal World to Feather Robe

A Fan took these words to heart.

After his injuries healed, he truly went to the School.

The Teacher taught him to recognize the three characters for Heaven, Earth, and Man, explaining: "As Heaven's movement is ever vigorous, so must the gentleman strive ceaselessly to improve himself."

Dressed in coarse hemp clothes, A Fan clumsily gripped a writing brush, repeatedly tracing these characters on Xuan paper. As the ink bled, he suddenly remembered the cloud patterns he had seen above the azure clouds.

It turned out that within the characters of the Ying Insect, the principles of Heaven and Earth were also hidden.

His classmates laughed at his stupidity, saying he couldn't even learn the proper way to hold a brush. Yet he did not lose heart. He was the first to arrive at the School each day and the last to leave. His knuckles developed calluses, and he finally could write neat characters.

From the books, he read of mountains, rivers, and the myriad facets of human life, gradually coming to understand the general outline of this Mortal World.

Ying Insect, no, the Human Race.

The Human Race had no wings, yet they could measure Heaven and Earth with words and traverse the four directions with their feet.

The Teacher told him: "Knowledge gained from books alone is ultimately shallow." A Fan deeply agreed.

Later, he left the School, bid farewell to the Old Woman, and followed a Peddler to learn trade.

The Peddler led him through streets and alleys, from south to north, trading silk for grain, porcelain for medicinal herbs.

On the road, they encountered bandits and famines. That Peddler once fought bandits to protect a cart of relief grain, while A Fan, standing nearby, swept through the mountain stronghold's bandits, displaying great Divine Might.

During a drought, that Peddler shared his only water with the refugees by the roadside.

A Fan did not quite understand this, but he respected it.

Staying overnight in a dilapidated temple, the Peddler said to him: "Boy, doing business isn't just about making money. You must understand people's hearts, know warmth and coldness."

"Doing business is the same as being a person. When traveling as a merchant in the past, the lowly yield to the noble, the young yield to the old, the light yield to the heavy, those leaving yield to those arriving, seeking fortune and avoiding misfortune, only then can wealth flow."

"Be good to others, and only then will they trust you. The most important things when walking the world are trust and righteousness."

A Fan seemed to understand, yet not fully. Dressed in a short jacket, he felt the refreshing coolness of the rainy night inside the temple.

Later, his reputation grew, and he joined a Merchant Guild.

The guild passed by a stretch of wilderness. Everyone lit a bonfire, singing and dancing on the barren plain.

A Fan, dressed in luxurious brocade robes, was invited by the guild leader's Daughter to dance together.

The flickering firelight and the figures around him reflected in his eyes.

Under the glow of the flames, A Fan gradually became entranced.

Humans were also a fragile and short-lived race, like the Small Bird. Why weren't they tense and anxious as their Lifespan neared its end?

He once thought that flying meant freedom. But at this moment, walking on the earth, running, and dancing also felt like freedom.

Later still, he was recommended for an official post.

The county he was assigned to was plagued by frequent floods, and the people suffered greatly.

After thoroughly investigating the situation, A Fan suddenly remembered the phrase "for the livelihood of the people" he had read in School and recalled the refugees he had seen during his merchant days.

He had no wings and could not summon divine powers like a god to control the waters. But he had the ability to use his own two hands to build dikes for the people and protect this land.

Donning his official robes, he led the people in repairing dikes and digging canals. He worked soaked in mud during the day and drafted dike plans by lamplight at night.

Later, he discovered that the floods were caused by a malevolent water serpent wreaking havoc.

A Fan, for the first time, attempted to channel his magic and use a Spell, aiming to secretly slay the serpent.

During this process, he was also surprised to find that he was so powerful, effortlessly capturing the serpent with a single hand.

After the serpent died and the dikes were completed, the people beat gongs and drums in celebration. A Fan's deeds spread throughout the countryside, and he was praised as a righteous and just official.

Looking at this bustling Mortal World, A Fan smiled brightly. Yet, remembering that these people rarely lived past forty, he felt something hot in his chest, and his smile gradually faded.

That winter, he resigned from his post and returned to the seaside village where he had first fallen.

The Old Woman had long since passed away. The small hut remained, covered in dust.

He sat in the woodshed, watching the ebb and flow of the tide, reflecting on the experiences of these years.

From a clumsy student in School, to a Peddler's apprentice, traveling as a merchant across the land, to becoming an official who worked for the people and protected the region.

Standing by the woodshed window, A Fan pinched a coarse thread that had come loose from his old clothes, then thought of the exquisite silk he had seen at the market yesterday.

Suddenly, his fingers twitched.

Back when he was with the Merchant Guild, the Guild Master's robe, embroidered with cloud patterns, shimmered softly in the sunlight, reminiscent of the Luan Bird's feathers he remembered.

He suddenly laughed.

A Phoenix's crimson feathers could dye the clouds, and a Kunpeng's massive wings could blot out the sun and moon.

Once, as a Small Bird, he envied the Phoenix's dazzling tail feathers. After the Mortal Transformation, he longed to grow wings again, believing only feathers could carry him through the sky.

Yet after all these years walking the Mortal World, he no longer needed wings.

The Teacher at the School wore a faded long gown, yet with a single brush, he could expound upon the principles of the universe. That simple gown, though plain, supported his knowledge like wings, allowing the Dao of Heaven's vigor to be conveyed.

The old Peddler he followed wore a patched short jacket, yet he could travel north and south with his goods, guarding a heart of sincerity, protecting relief grain from bandits, and sharing water with refugees.

The official robes A Fan himself wore supported his authority like wings, enabling him to govern and protect the land.

For humans, garments are like feathers for birds.

A Fan raised a hand to touch the coarse fabric of his clothes. Though rough, it fit snugly.

He suddenly understood: feathers and garments share the same origin.

So-called wings never had only one form.

Back then, he was fixated on growing wings and feathers, not truly grasping the meaning of Mortal Transformation.

To transcend the Mortal, one must first become Mortal.

Understand the Mortal World's principles, know its vicissitudes, immerse oneself in the Mortal dust, yet remain untainted by it.

A bird's feathers are for riding the wind, for freedom, for soaring through the azure.

A human's garments are for propriety, for clarity, for establishing oneself in the world.

As this realization fully dawned, a burning sensation surged in his back. Yet it wasn't the expected growth of feathers, but a warm, gentle force flowing through his Meridians, suffusing his entire Physical Body.

A Fan did not sprout wings. Yet when he took a step from the woodshed, his body naturally lifted into the air.

Not by flapping wings, but by the feather garment that covered him.

At this moment, his magic could flow freely.

Mind commanding the Qi, the many Spells he had conceived in his thoughts now manifested as naturally as flowing clouds and water.

Transforming wings or transforming a feather garment—it was ultimately the same, no need to cling to the form of feathers.

The wind brushed past him, carrying the scent of the sea and the village.

His robes fluttering, A Fan looked down at the dark tiles beneath his feet and suddenly felt more liberated than when he had spread his wings over the Wilds of Cangwu.

He spread his arms wide, as if spreading wings among the azure clouds. His coarse clothes fluttered gently in the wind, truly like feathers carrying him into the distant, unreachable heights.

Passing through the clouds, sunlight bathed him. There was no golden feather's radiance, yet an aura transcending the Mortal dust enveloped him.

No need to transform into feathers; the garment itself is the feather.

No need to grow wings; the heart itself is the wing.

Transcending the Mortal, Condensing the Dharma Body, Transforming the Feather Garment—it should be like this... Shen Moyan finally finished traversing the path of pilgrimage and looked up at the stone stele.

Gazing at the totem depicting the Small Bird transforming into a human, feathers transforming into garments, soaring directly into the azure clouds, Shen Moyan couldn't help but curve his lips into a slight smile.

"Imparting the Dao to all beings, what Cultivation Technique can I obtain?"