465: Chapter 465 Preaching for Ten Thousand Years - The Initiation of Two Disciples

His original intention was merely to impart the method of transformation—even those who had not yet manifested the Dao body could use this to stimulate their hidden roots, mend old damages, and make up for innate deficiencies.

If there were no real benefits, why would such vast numbers of living beings rush here?

This was the first time in the Great Wilderness that the sound of the Great Dao had broken through the air, and countless living beings flocked to it.

Although those with long journeys and shallow cultivation found it difficult to reach the Wuji Grotto-Heaven, they were still enlightened along the way, successfully transforming; this was truly a heaven-sent opportunity, a profound blessing.

Several reclusive experts were initially alert, not knowing the reason, but upon closer inspection, they found no baleful aura, but rather a pure and natural Dao aura, so they slowly let down their guard.

Even more sensitive ones realized the profound meaning within, which coincided with their own cultivation, but hindered by their pride, they sat firmly in their caves, pretending to be calm: "Listening at home is the same, why rush there?"—in the end, it was just the issue of face.

Let things take their own course.

Those who come will come, those who go will go.

Opportunities are like dew, born in the morning and gone by evening; if missed, they will never come again.

Time flowed, and the wilderness had already gathered dense crowds of beings listening to the Dao, silent as a forest, devout as a sea.

An invisible yet overwhelming pressure slowly covered the Great Wilderness.

At the same time, the transformation talismans fell like starlight, silent and soundless, blessing the eight directions.

Ten thousand years passed in a flash.

One day, the faint sound of the Great Dao stopped abruptly, and the divine talismans vanished.

Jiang Chen woke up leisurely from the state of preaching, feeling his whole body light, his tendons and veins stretched, as if every inch of flesh and blood was breathing in pure energy—indeed, preaching is also nurturing the Dao.

He calculated with his fingers, and ten thousand years had passed.

Cultivation has no time, and time is like a dream.

Looking up, at the foot of the mountain, two figures were kneeling, their bodies trembling slightly, their foreheads pressed against the yellow soil.

"Rise."

Jiang Chen stepped forward and stood before the two, his tone peaceful, with a hint of amusement.

"Thank you, Teacher, for the great grace of enlightenment! We disciples are willing to serve by your side forever, we implore you to grant us permission!"

Hearing this, the two did not even raise their heads, prostrating again, their voices choked with sobs, their fingertips digging deeply into the soil—they never expected to be able to listen to the Dharma sound in person and see the true face of their Master!

"Serve me? I am not a frail old man; I can walk, sit, and lie down freely.

Why would I need anyone to serve me?

Go and cultivate."

"Teacher... if it were not for your talisman and enlightenment, we would still be ignorant plants.

This grace is as great as the heavens.

Only by following you can we repay even a fraction of it.

We hope for your mercy!"

Before the words were finished, the two were about to kowtow again.

Jiang Chen flicked his sleeves lightly, and a warm yet irresistible force supported their shoulders—their knees were suspended in the air, unable to press down.

The two were suddenly at a loss, their hearts tightening, both ashamed and panicked, thinking their aptitude was too low to enter their Teacher's eyes, filled with disappointment, almost suffocating.

Sensing the anxiety and eager desire in their hearts, Jiang Chen's mouth curled slightly, and he laughed aloud: "Fine, fine, do not act like little children.

Since your will is as iron, how can I refuse?

Having been mountain neighbors for so many years, it is time to shed your old shells and regain your true nature."

"Thank you, Master, for your great grace!"

This time, Jiang Chen did not stop them from kneeling—respecting a benefactor and teacher should be this solemn.

"You were originally a plum tree that transformed, so I bestow upon you the name Mei Lingzi, and you shall be my first disciple; you attained the Dao as a green bamboo, so I bestow upon you the name Qing Zhuzi, and you shall rank second.

From now on, you shall enter my Wuji Grotto-Heaven, listen to the scriptures, ask about the Dao, and cultivate in seclusion.

There are not many rules in the sect: do not kill the innocent indiscriminately, do not disobey the sect, do not harm your peers, do not bully the weak—have you remembered them all?"

"We disciples will strictly follow the Master's orders and will never dare to disobey!"

"Good! Follow your Master up the mountain.

In the Great Wilderness, having hard fists and a solid foundation is the basis for survival."

Jiang Chen flicked his sleeves and turned to walk away.

Those who watched from afar and hesitated had already missed the opportunity—such fate vanishes in an instant and cannot come again.

Mei Lingzi and Qing Zhuzi followed him excitedly, stepping towards Daochen Mountain.

Their hearts were surging with indescribable agitation: previously they were anxious, but now they had finally been favored, as if the clouds had parted to reveal the sun, how fortunate.

Although they did not know the depth of their Master, just looking at his demeanor and style, and the clear and strong aura of heaven and earth in his every gesture, they knew he was definitely not an ordinary person.

Carrying full sincerity and longing, they climbed the cloud steps one step at a time.

When they reached the main hall at the top of the mountain, an invisible pressure descended quietly from the void.

Their steps became heavy, their breathing tightened, and with every step, it felt as if they were carrying a thousand jun on their shoulders.

But the Master walked calmly without stopping—as disciples, how could they dare to retreat?

Their eyes met, they gritted their teeth, and they dragged their trembling legs forward.

Their joints felt like they were about to shatter, their veins were twitching, and they were supported entirely by an unyielding toughness.

They knew in their hearts: to be named and accepted by the Master was a once-in-ten-thousand-year fortune; how could they bow down because of temporary pain?

Suddenly, Qing Zhuzi's figure swayed, his knees buckled, and he was about to fall.

Mei Lingzi didn't even think and grabbed his arm, but the pressure soared suddenly, and even breathing became difficult, making every step hard.

"Senior Brother, you go up first... I'll catch my breath and follow immediately, don't let the Master wait long."

Qing Zhuzi's voice was weak, and cold sweat streamed down his forehead.

"Nonsense!"

Mei Lingzi's eyes burned, "Since we broke through the soil and transformed, and went to the mountain gate together, when have we ever been separated by even half a step?

Today the Master promised to accept us as disciples, if I let go now, wouldn't these years of supporting each other become a joke?

Go! Let's enter the hall together!"

Jiang Chen stood quietly in front of the hall, taking everything in, feeling very gratified.

This kind of simple and unyielding character, without schemes or cunning, was exactly the Dao seed he was looking for—compared to the calculating and glib beings of later generations, the two in front of him were truly worthy of being called "torchbearers."

"Come in, sit down and rest."

Before the words fell, the pressure suddenly dissipated, and the two felt their whole bodies lighten, as if a heavy burden had been lifted, joy rushing to their brows—the Master must have nodded in approval!

They hurried into the hall, saw two empty meditation cushions on the left and right, and sat down in order.

Although their breathing had not yet settled, they were full of joy.

"Come, taste these two fruits."

Jiang Chen held out two huangzhong plums in his palm, with golden patterns faintly visible and halos flowing, and handed them to the two.

The fruit's fragrance was clear and refreshing, invigorating the heart and spleen.

As soon as it entered their noses, their throats rolled involuntarily.

The two could no longer hold back and swallowed it in one gulp—in an instant, their internal organs were bathed in spring rain, and their souls seemed to be washed anew.

This taste and feeling were engraved in their hearts, unforgettable for a lifetime.

"Savor it carefully, do not miss this opportunity.

Trust what you feel in your heart, follow that thread of guidance, naturally go deeper, do not hesitate."

As the fruit's essence melted, a warm and vast guidance surfaced in their hearts.

Just at this moment, the Master's words entered their ears like a bell, and the two immediately composed their minds and held their breath, opening their seas of consciousness, letting that subtle sensation lead the way, slowly sinking into the depths of the most authentic awareness.

The huangzhong plum is the head of the heaven and earth spiritual roots.

The first fruits borne contain the lingering charm of the Great Dao—if one is fated, one can use this to glimpse the outline of one's own Dao path, even if it is only a hazy initial understanding, it is enough to bypass all kinds of wrong paths and make the road of cultivation suddenly clear.

Such an encounter, even Zhenyuanzi was moved by it back then: in the vast Great Wilderness, how many people are lucky enough to receive this heaven-sent gift?

Of course, whether one can attain the Dao ultimately depends on personal fate.

It is not that one will necessarily have insights after taking the huangzhong plum; only these first-generation fruits have this effect.

The fruits borne later, although still nourishing vitality and tempering roots, can no longer carry the charm of the Dao, and their effectiveness is greatly reduced.

Other heaven and earth spiritual roots are the same—the first time they bear fruit, they are favored by fortune; what is produced thereafter is all three points inferior.

Because of this, how many living beings sigh with regret: those first fruits mostly disperse with the wind, returning to the mountains and fields, with no one to pick them, no one to encounter them.

Looking at the two disciples who had just entered the sect, who were concentrating on crossing mountains and ridges, parting grass and searching for traces, he simply stood by and watched, sitting cross-legged, his mind sinking into the mysterious realm, wandering far away.

The opportunity had already been laid out, and whether they could bump into it and grasp it depended entirely on their own luck—it could not be forced, nor could it be forcibly helped.

The master leads the way to the door, but cultivation ultimately depends on oneself.

Who can protect them for a lifetime?

One day they will have to stand on their own and support a piece of heaven and earth.

If they don't even have this bit of confidence, what is the use of cultivating the Dao?

Isn't it just to carve one's name in the vast universe, to leave one's mark in the hearts of all living beings, and to see one's true self in the mirror?

This is the most authentic meaning of cultivation.