49: Chapter 49 Maple Leaves at Yuelu

Leaving Luoyang, he crossed the Han River and passed through Jingxiang.

Lu Mingyuan traveled for half a month, arriving in Tanzhou at the beginning of April.

The further south he went, the stronger the spring atmosphere became. The peach blossoms of the Central Plains had just withered, while the azaleas in Central Xiang already covered the mountains and fields. The air grew humid, and the earthy scent of the soil mixed with the fresh fragrance of vegetation, making him, who was accustomed to the dryness of the north, feel somewhat unadjusted.

But within this lack of adjustment, there was a fresh joy.

He stayed by the Xiang River for a day, watching the river flow north, the boats come and go, the fishermen cast their nets, and the women wash clothes. Then, on the morning of the second day, he crossed the river to the west and headed toward Yuelu Mountain.

Yuelu Mountain was not high, yet it possessed a natural air of clear loftiness.

At the foot of the mountain, a stream gurgled, and ancient trees reached for the sky on both banks. A small path of blue stone wound its way upward, the stone steps worn smooth as jade by countless footsteps, with fine green moss growing in the crevices.

Lu Mingyuan ascended the steps.

After walking for half an hour, the view suddenly opened up—a cluster of red walls and dark tiles hidden amidst the lush greenery, their eaves upturned Li Ke the wings of a wild goose. A stone stele stood before the mountain gate, inscribed with four large characters:

“Yuelu Academy.”

The stele was old, the characters were old, and the parts eroded by wind and frost were filled with moss. But within those four characters, there was an indescribable solemnity—not the compassion of a Buddhist temple, nor the etherealness of a Daoist temple, but the solemnity of "man."

Standing here, man reads to understand principles, cultivates himself, regulates his family, governs the state, and brings peace to the world.

Lu Mingyuan stood before the stele for a moment before stepping through the mountain gate.

Passing through the Hexi Terrace and walking through the main and second gates, he arrived at the core of the academy—the Lecture Hall.

The Lecture Hall was vast, capable of holding hundreds of people. In the center was a high platform with two armchairs. Behind each chair stood a plaque inscribed with a name:

“Zhu Xi.”

“Zhang Shi.”

Below the platform were rows of prayer mats; one could only wonder how many students had listened to lectures, debated, and sought knowledge here. A giant plaque hung from the rafters with four gold-leafed characters:

“the orthodox lineage of the southern dao.”

Lu Mingyuan stood at the doorway for a long time.

He did not enter, but merely stood outside the threshold, looking at the two empty chairs, the prayer mats, and the plaque.

Eight hundred years ago, two great Confucian scholars held a joint lecture here. Zhu Xi came from Fujian, and Zhang Shi welcomed him from the local area of Tanzhou. The two debated the theory of "Equilibrium and Harmony," the essence of "Taiji," and the meaning of "Investigation of Things." The audience was Li Ke a cloud, and they did not disperse for three days.

Eight hundred years later, the people are gone, but the Lecture Hall remains.

Do the sounds of those debates still echo among these beams and pillars?

"Is this layman here to pay respects to the vestiges of the former sages?"

A voice came from behind. Lu Mingyuan turned around to see a middle-aged Confucian scholar standing below the steps, wearing a green robe and a square scholar's cap, with a lean face and three strands of long beard under his chin, holding a scroll in his hand.

Lu Mingyuan cupped his hands: "Indeed. This junior is Lu Mingyuan, a man of Zhongnan Mountain, who has come here drawn by your reputation."

The scholar returned the gesture: "I do not deserve such a title. I am Li Ke, a fellow lecturer of the academy, currently serving as a receptionist."

He walked up the steps and stood side-by-side with Lu Mingyuan, looking into the Lecture Hall.

"You have come at a good time," Li Ke said. "Tomorrow, the academy will hold a lecture meeting, and the topic will be 'Investigation of Things.' If you have the time, you might as well listen."

Lu Mingyuan's heart stirred.

Investigation of Things.

He had heard these four characters while he was at Zhongnan Mountain. Xuanweizi once said: "Confucianism speaks of investigating things, Daoism speaks of observing the subtle, and Buddhism speaks of contemplation. Though the names differ, their goal is the same."

But at that time, his cultivation was still shallow. When he heard his Master speak of these things, he only kept them in mind without delving deeper.

Now that his Golden Core was formed and his Heart-Nature was settled, hearing these four characters again, his feelings were naturally different.

"I would Li Ke to ask for guidance," he said. "I wonder if Brother Li could first give a brief overview?"

Li Ke smiled.

"If you do not mind the simplicity, we can go sit at the Confucian Temple. It is quiet there, making it easy to talk."

---

The Confucian Temple was on the west side of the Lecture Hall, enshrining Confucius, the Four Assessors, and the Twelve Philosophers.

The hall was not large, yet it was extremely solemn. The statue of Confucius sat upright in the center, his gaze looking down as if watching everyone who entered. Lu Mingyuan stood solemnly before the statue for a moment and respectfully performed three bows.

Li Ke watched from the side, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes.

The two found two stone stools under the corridor and sat down. Sunlight filtered through the eaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. From afar came the sound of students reciting, their cadence rising and falling Li Ke a Buddhist chant or a folk song.

"You wish to hear about 'Investigation of Things'?" Li Ke asked.

Lu Mingyuan nodded.

Li Ke pondered for a moment.

"These four characters come from the 'Great Learning.' 'Those who wished to make their intentions sincere first extended their knowledge; the extension of knowledge lies in the investigation of things,'" he said. "But what is investigating things? What is extending knowledge? Since Zheng Xuan annotated the classics, there has been endless debate."

He paused.

"Cheng Yichuan said: 'Investigating' is Li Ke exhausting, 'things' are Li Ke principles; only by exhausting principles can one extend knowledge. Zhu Huian followed this view, believing that if one investigates one thing today and another tomorrow, as the accumulation grows, there will be a sudden breakthrough."

Lu Mingyuan listened quietly.

"Lu Xiangshan Mountain, however, did not think so," Li Ke continued. "He said: 'The mind is principle; investigating things is investigating the things of this mind.' If one seeks by following external things, one will be fragmented and never find the door in their entire life."

He looked at Lu Mingyuan.

"This is the root of the difference between Zhu and Lu. Master Zhu emphasizes 'following the path of inquiry and study,' while Xiangshan Mountain emphasizes 'honoring the moral nature.' One says to go from the outside in, and the other says to go from the inside out."

Lu Mingyuan was silent for a moment.

"Then, in Brother Li's opinion, who is right and who is wrong?"

Li Ke laughed.

"No one has been able to answer this question clearly for eight hundred years," he said. "Back then, the joint lecture of Zhu and Zhang was about this. Zhang Nanxuan was originally closer to Xiangshan Mountain, while Master Zhu was closer to Yichuan. The two debated for three days, and neither could convince the other."

He stood up, walked to the edge of the corridor, and looked toward the vaguely visible Xiang River in the distance.

"But the interesting thing is that in his later years, Master Zhu gradually felt that Xiangshan Mountain's theory also made sense; and on his deathbed, Xiangshan Mountain also admitted that Master Zhu's learning could not be discarded. The two argued for a lifetime, only to find in the end—that the path the other took could also lead there."

He turned back and looked at Lu Mingyuan.

"Why do you think that is?"

Lu Mingyuan did not answer immediately.

He gazed at the sunlight outside the corridor, thinking about Li Ke's words.

Master Zhu went from the outside in, and Xiangshan Mountain went from the inside out. One investigated things to exhaust principles, and the other discovered the original mind. They seemed diametrically opposed, yet in the end, they found—that the other's path could also lead there.

He suddenly remembered what Huiyuan said that night.

"The moon in the sky and the moon in the water are the same moon."

He remembered Zen Master Huijue's final words.

"After the snow falls, there is still the melting of the snow."

"Brother Li," he said, "this junior will take the liberty of saying something that might not be appropriate."

Li Ke nodded and waited quietly.

"Perhaps both Master Zhu and Xiangshan Mountain only saw half," Lu Mingyuan said. "Investigating things is outward-facing, and extending knowledge is inward-facing. But facing outward and facing inward are not originally two separate things."

He paused.

"Just Li Ke this Yuelu Mountain. There are many paths up the mountain—some go up from the front, some from the back, some from the East Stream, and some from the West Ridge. But no matter which path they take, what they see when they reach the summit is the same sunrise."

Li Ke looked at him, a hint of seriousness appearing in his gaze.

"Are you saying that investigating things and extending knowledge are originally one body?"

"This junior does not dare to state it for certain," Lu Mingyuan said. "But I have cultivated for three years, visited the Three Mountains of Daoism and the Three Temples of Buddhism, and seen countless methods—some starting from talismans, some from swords, some from Zen, and some from chanting the Buddha's name. The points of entry are vastly different, but in the end..."

He stopped.

In the end, what was it?

He didn't know. Because he hadn't reached the end yet.

But he vaguely felt that the "end" was not the "sudden breakthrough" Master Zhu spoke of, nor the "mind is principle" of Xiangshan Mountain. Instead, it was—

Instead, what was it? He couldn't say clearly.

Li Ke looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"Your words have quite the atmosphere of the joint lecture of Zhu and Zhang back then," he said. "It is not a final conclusion, but a state of doubt; not an answer, but an inquiry."

He raised his hand and pointed toward the Lecture Hall.

"Tomorrow at the hour of Chen, the lecture meeting will begin. If you are interested, you might as well come and listen. For today, rest and gather your spirits."

Li Ke led Lu Mingyuan to the guest house on the west side of the academy to settle in.

The guest house was very small, with only a bed, a table, and a window. Outside the window was a bamboo forest, the tips of the bamboo swaying gently in the wind, making a rustling sound.

Lu Mingyuan sat down on the bed.

He did not meditate; he just sat there, recalling his conversation with Li Ke today.

Investigation of Things.

He had known these four characters since he was at Zhongnan Mountain, but he had never delved into them. Now that he was discussing them with someone for the first time, he realized that the profound meaning within was far more complex than he had thought.

Seeking principles externally, or seeking the mind internally?

Master Zhu said: If one investigates one thing today and another tomorrow, as the accumulation grows, there will be a sudden breakthrough.

Xiangshan Mountain said: The mind is principle; investigating things is investigating the things of this mind.

He thought of his own three years.

At Longhu Mountain, what he investigated were talismans—thirty-six thousand scrolls of talisman scriptures, looking through them one by one, and comprehending them stroke by stroke. That was outward.

At Wudang Mountain, what he investigated were swords—three thousand seven hundred types of sword techniques, deconstructing them style by style, and practicing them over and over. That was also outward.

At Mount Qingcheng, what he investigated was the mind—the sword marks of Daoist Songyun, his own three intents running in parallel, and the guidance of Perfected Master Changkong. That was inward.

At Shaolin, what he investigated was Zen—the snow just falls, the punch is just thrown, the broom just sweeps. That was inward, and also outward.

In the Pure Land, what he investigated was the Buddha's name—ten thousand thoughts returning to one, returning to nowhere. That was inward, and also outward.

At the White Horse Temple, what he investigated was the Dharma-body—the brahma sounds of a thousand years ago, and the response two thousand years later. That was even more so the non-duality of internal and external.

He suddenly realized that for these three years, he had been "investigating things."

Investigating talismans, swords, the mind, Zen, the Buddha's name, and the Dharma-body.

Every investigation was an approach to that "thing."

What was that "thing"?

He did not know.

But he knew that he was approaching it.

As the night deepened, the rustling of the bamboo forest became clearer.

Lu Mingyuan took out the string of prayer beads from his robe and gently flicked them.

The two characters "resting is..." glowed with a warm light under the moonlight.

He remembered Huiyuan's words: "If the benefactor does not know, then keep chanting for now. When the day comes that you do know, come and find this poor monk again."

But at this moment, as he chanted the Buddha's name, he was not thinking of the Pure Land.

He was thinking of tomorrow.

How many students would be at tomorrow's lecture meeting? What would they debate? As a Cultivator from a Daoist background, would it be abrupt for him to rashly participate in a Confucian school's academic discussion?

He thought for a moment and suddenly smiled.

The moment this thought arose, it was an attachment.

He put down the prayer beads and stopped thinking about tomorrow.

He just lay there, listening to the sound of the bamboo, the sound of the wind, and the faint cries of nocturnal birds in the distance.

Then he fell asleep.

At the hour of Chen the next day, Lu Mingyuan arrived at the Lecture Hall on time.

Dozens of people had already gathered in the hall, mostly young students, with a few older Confucian scholars sitting in the front row. Li Ke was waiting for him at the door; seeing him come, he nodded slightly and led him to a seat in the back row.

On the high platform, the two armchairs were still empty.

But today, people sat in the chairs.

They were not Zhu Xi or Zhang Shi, but two contemporary lecturers. One had hair and a beard as white as snow, with a lean face and eyes as deep as an ancient well; the other was middle-aged, with a sharp aura between his brows, Li Ke a sword hidden in its scabbard.

Li Ke whispered: "The white-haired one is Master Wang Chengzhi, who follows Zhu's school of principle; the middle-aged one is Master Chen Mingyuan, who follows Xiangshan Mountain's school of mind. Today, the two of them will debate 'Investigation of Things,' so please listen."

Lu Mingyuan nodded and watched intently.

Wang Chengzhi spoke first, his voice old and steady:

"The 'Great Learning' says: 'Those who wished to make their intentions sincere first extended their knowledge; the extension of knowledge lies in the investigation of things.' To investigate is to exhaust; things are principles. Principles reside within things, so one must exhaust them through the things themselves. If one investigates one thing today and another tomorrow, as the accumulation grows, once there is a sudden breakthrough, then the internal and external, the refined and the coarse of all things will be reached, and the entire substance and great utility of my mind will be illuminated."

Chen Mingyuan followed, his voice as clear as clashing metal and stone:

"Master Wang's words are incorrect. Principles reside within things, but they also reside within the mind. If one only seeks externally and not within the mind, then even if one investigates all the things in the world, what does it have to do with one's own body and mind? Master Xiangshan said: 'The mind is principle.' Investigating things is investigating the things of this mind. If one discovers the original mind, then all things are complete within me."

Wang Chengzhi shook his head slightly:

"Master Chen's words, I fear, fall into the realm of Zen. The Confucian school speaks of being in the world and of practical statesmanship. If one only seeks within the mind and does not investigate matters and things, then how can one regulate the family, govern the state, and bring peace to the world?"

Chen Mingyuan remained unhurried:

"Master Wang has misunderstood. Investigating the mind is not about neglecting things, but rather the way to illuminate them. If the mind is clear, things are clear; if the mind is upright, things are upright. If the mind is not upright, then even if one investigates all the things in the world, it is merely helping a tyrant to do evil."

The two went back and forth, the debate growing deeper.

The students below listened intently, sometimes nodding, sometimes frowning, sometimes whispering to one another. Lu Mingyuan listened quietly, not letting a single word escape him.

He suddenly realized how similar the debate between these two was to the debate of "other-power versus self-power" he had experienced in Buddhism.

One said to seek externally, the other said to seek internally.

One spoke of accumulation and breakthrough, the other spoke of discovering the original mind.

But was what they were debating really "outward" versus "inward"?

No.

What they were debating was "how to reach that place."

That place, Master Zhu called "sudden breakthrough," and Xiangshan Mountain called "discovery of the original mind." The names were different, but what they pointed to was the same—

That "knowledge."

The knowledge of extending knowledge.

The debate lasted for a full hour.

In the end, neither could convince the other. Wang Chengzhi stood up and cupped his hands to Chen Mingyuan: "Master Chen's brilliant discourse has benefited this old man greatly. Though I cannot agree, I also dare not say it is wrong."

Chen Mingyuan returned the gesture: "Master Wang is humble. Mingyuan has also gained something."

The two looked at each other and smiled, then took their seats.

Li Ke stood up and said to the students: "Today's lecture meeting ends here. If any of you have questions, you may seek guidance on your own."

As soon as he finished speaking, a student stood up to ask Wang Chengzhi a question.

Lu Mingyuan did not move.

He just sat there, thinking about the debate just now.

Master Zhu and Xiangshan Mountain, Wang Chengzhi and Chen Mingyuan—they had argued for eight hundred years, and they would continue to argue.

But in the end, they found—

That the other's path could also lead there.

Just as Master Zhu's stance on Xiangshan Mountain's theory softened in his later years, and Xiangshan Mountain admitted on his deathbed that Master Zhu's learning could not be discarded.

What they were arguing about were the paths.

And there are many paths.

After the lecture meeting dispersed, Li Ke came to find him.

"What does the layman think?"

Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.

"This junior was thinking that perhaps both Master Zhu and Xiangshan Mountain only walked half the way," he said. "Master Zhu emphasized things, while Xiangshan Mountain emphasized the mind. But things and the mind are originally one body."

Li Ke looked at him.

"One body?"

"Just Li Ke this Yuelu Mountain," Lu Mingyuan said. "The mountain is a thing, and the one looking at the mountain is the mind. Without the mountain, the mind has nothing to rest upon; without the mind, who is there to look at the mountain?"

He paused.

"Investigating things is letting the mind and things connect; extending knowledge is the 'illumination' that arises in the mind after that connection. Without things, the mind is not illuminated; without the mind, things are not manifest. The two are mutually dependent; neither can be lacking."

Li Ke was silent for a long time.

Then he smiled.

"Your words have a bit of the flavor of the joint lecture of Zhu and Zhang," he said. "Back then, Master Zhu and Nanxuan debated for three days, and in the end, it was also this meaning—not that it's one or the other, but that they run parallel without conflict."

He looked at Lu Mingyuan.

"Would you be willing to stay at the academy for a few more days?"

Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.

"This junior was just thinking the same."

That night, Lu Mingyuan sat alone by the window of the guest house.

Outside, the bamboo forest still rustled, and the shadows of the moon were dappled. He held the string of prayer beads in his hand, but he did not chant.

He was just thinking about today's debate.

Investigation of Things.

These four characters were no longer just four characters in his heart.

They were a door.

He did not yet know what was behind the door.

But he knew that he would push it open.

Step by step, day by day, thing by thing.

Push it open and walk inside.

And then see.

See what it is that lies behind that door.