99: Chapter 99 Songyun's Notes

After walking along the coastline for an hour, Bai Ze suddenly stopped.

It looked at a patch of reefs not far ahead, its ears twitching.

"There's someone over there."

Lu Mingyuan followed its gaze.

Behind the reefs, a figure could be vaguely seen. The figure was motionless, as if sitting there.

Zhang Qingyuan tightened his grip on the heart lamp.

"Master, should I go take a look?"

Lu Mingyuan shook his head.

"Let's go together."

As the three of them drew closer, they realized it wasn't a person.

It was a skeleton.

The skeleton sat cross-legged on the reef, facing the sea with its back to the path they had come from. The clothes on its body had long since decayed, leaving only a few strips of cloth hanging from the frame. The skeleton maintained its cross-legged posture, hands resting on its knees, head slightly bowed as if in deep thought.

Bai Ze walked a circle around the skeleton.

"He's been dead for a long time. At least eight thousand years."

Looking at the skeleton, a strange feeling suddenly welled up in Lu Mingyuan's heart.

He had seen this skeleton's posture before.

In Daoist Songyun's ruins, the person in that painting was in this exact posture—sitting cross-legged atop a mountain peak, gazing up at the starry sky.

He took a few steps closer and looked carefully.

On the reef in front of the skeleton, several lines of words were carved.

The handwriting had been blurred by the sea breeze's erosion, but upon careful identification, the general meaning could still be discerned—

"I sought the Dao for nine thousand years, yet ultimately found no answer. I pass away here; should future generations see this, do not follow in my footsteps."

"Heart as the Mysterious Pivot, the pivot is the center. But the center is the great foundation of the world. Beyond the foundation, what is there at the end?"

"If there is a successor who can answer, please carve the words on this stone to tell me. Though I am dead, I would be eternally grateful."

Lu Mingyuan looked at those lines of words, remaining silent for a long time.

This was Daoist Songyun.

Not the phantom in the ruins, not the text on the stone wall, but the man himself.

He had finally passed away here.

Facing the sea, back to the path, gazing into the distance, waiting for an answer.

Waiting for eight thousand years.

Bai Ze said softly:

"When he died, he still had questions in his heart."

Lu Mingyuan nodded.

"I know."

He looked at the skeleton, at the carvings, and at that posture that had waited for eight thousand years.

Nine thousand years of seeking the Dao, only to pass away here.

Without obtaining an answer.

But he hadn't given up.

He was waiting. Waiting for a successor, waiting for someone who could answer him.

Waiting for eight thousand years.

"Senior," Lu Mingyuan said softly, "I have come."

The skeleton did not respond.

Of course, there would be no response.

But Lu Mingyuan continued anyway.

"I haven't fully found the answer to your question yet. But I know how to look for it now."

He paused.

"I saw the words you left behind. I have carried the Jade Pendant you left for five years. I have also kept the sword you left."

He took the old Jade Pendant from his robe and placed it before the skeleton.

"This, I return to you."

The Jade Pendant landed on the reef with a soft clink.

Lu Mingyuan looked at the skeleton, the Jade Pendant, and the carvings.

Then, he knelt down.

Not in worship, but in a kneeling sit.

Right beside the skeleton, in the same posture, facing the sea with his back to the path.

Bai Ze watched him.

"What are you doing?"

Lu Mingyuan said softly:

"Keeping him company for a while."

Sunlight spilled over the sea's surface, shimmering with light.

The sea breeze blew in, carrying a salty, damp scent.

Lu Mingyuan sat kneeling there, eyes closed, motionless.

Bai Ze lay beside him, also remaining silent.

Zhang Qingyuan stood not far away, holding the heart lamp and watching quietly.

A long, long time passed.

Lu Mingyuan suddenly opened his eyes.

He turned his head and looked at the skeleton's hand.

The skeleton's right hand rested on its knee. Between the finger bones of that hand, something was wedged.

He reached out and gently pried open the finger bones.

The object fell out.

It was a Bamboo Scroll.

A very small scroll, only the size of a palm.

Lu Mingyuan picked it up and unfurled it.

The Bamboo Scroll was densely covered in writing. The characters were tiny but very clear, as if carved with a fingernail.

The first passage—

"The day before I passed away, my mind suddenly became clear. The perplexities of nine thousand years were all resolved in an instant. It was not a true resolution, but the realization that they are unresolvable. To be unresolvable is the resolution."

Lu Mingyuan's heart jolted.

He continued reading.

The second passage—

"Heart as the Mysterious Pivot, the pivot is the center. The center is the great foundation of the world. But the foundation is not a thing, not a principle, not a law, and not the Dao. The foundation is nameless. That which is nameless cannot be spoken of. That which cannot be spoken of need not be asked."

The third passage—

"To not need to ask is the answer."

The fourth passage—

"I am about to die. Before death, I leave this scroll to be gifted to a successor. If one can see this scroll, it is fate. To the fated one, hear my word—"

"Cultivation is walking, and walking is cultivation. Do not ask for the destination, do not ask for the return. Only ask of the feet, only ask of the present. There is a path beneath the feet, and there is a heart in the present. To have a heart and a path is the Dao."

The fifth and final passage—

"After the Heart as the Mysterious Pivot—there is still the heart. The pivot is the heart, and the heart is the pivot. Heart and pivot are not two; it has always been so."

"I am leaving. May my successor take care."

Lu Mingyuan held the Bamboo Scroll, remaining still for a long time.

Bai Ze leaned over to take a look.

"Hmm. He finally attained enlightenment at the end."

Lu Mingyuan nodded.

"He did."

Bai Ze looked at him.

"Have you attained enlightenment?"

Lu Mingyuan thought for a long time.

Then, he said softly:

"A little bit."

He carefully rolled up the Bamboo Scroll and tucked it into his robe.

Then, he looked at the skeleton and said softly:

"Senior, I have remembered your words."

He paused.

"I haven't fully found the answer to your question yet. But what you said at the end, I understand."

"To be unresolvable is the resolution. To not need to ask is the answer."

He looked at the Jade Pendant placed before the skeleton.

"This Jade Pendant followed you for nine hundred years, and I waited for five years. Now I return it to you. But your words, I am taking with me."

He stood up.

"I'm leaving."

He turned and walked back toward the path they came from.

After a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

He looked back at the skeleton, at that posture facing the sea.

"Senior, the person you were waiting for has come,"

He said.

"The words you were waiting for, I have heard."

He paused.

"Thank you."

After saying this, he turned and strode away.

Bai Ze followed behind him.

Zhang Qingyuan, holding the heart lamp, also followed.

After walking quite a distance, Bai Ze suddenly asked:

"You said just now that you attained a little bit of enlightenment. What did you realize?"

Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.

"I realized—the answer is nowhere else."

Bai Ze looked at him.

"Where is it?"

Lu Mingyuan pointed to his own chest.

"Right here."

Bai Ze didn't speak.

Lu Mingyuan continued:

"He asked for nine thousand years, only to finally discover that the answer is not at the edge of the sky, not at the bottom of the sea, and not with anyone else. The answer was in his own heart."

"'To be unresolvable is the resolution. To not need to ask is the answer.'"

He looked at Bai Ze.

"What this means is—some questions already have an answer the moment they are asked. It's just that one doesn't know it yet."

Bai Ze nodded.

"Hmm. That makes sense."

Lu Mingyuan was silent for a while.

"But I still have one question."

Bai Ze looked at him.

"What question?"

Lu Mingyuan said softly:

"If the answer is in the heart, then why did it take him nine thousand years to finally find it?"

Bai Ze did not answer.

It just looked at him quietly.

Lu Mingyuan continued on his own.

"Because that answer in the heart isn't something you can find just because you want to. You have to walk. You have to walk many paths, meet many people, and go through many things. When you've walked enough, met enough, and experienced enough, you look back—and the answer is right there."

He looked at the road ahead.

"It's like walking. When you're walking, you only know what's beneath your feet. Only when you reach the end and look back do you know what you've passed through."

Bai Ze smiled.

"What you've realized is more than just a little bit."

Lu Mingyuan also smiled.

"Is that so?"

Bai Ze nodded.

"Yes."

After walking for a while longer, Zhang Qingyuan suddenly asked:

"Master, did that Daoist Songyun finally find the answer in the end?"

Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.

"He found it, and yet he didn't."

Zhang Qingyuan didn't understand.

"What does that mean?"

Lu Mingyuan looked at him.

"He found the answer, but that answer wasn't what he wanted."

Zhang Qingyuan was even more confused.

"Then what was it he wanted?"

Lu Mingyuan said softly:

"What he wanted was an answer that could be spoken. But what he finally found was an answer that cannot be spoken."

He paused.

"Only that which cannot be spoken is true."

Zhang Qingyuan nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite.

Bai Ze added from the side:

"What your Master means is—some things can only be known by oneself and cannot be said. Only that which cannot be said truly belongs to you."

Zhang Qingyuan thought for a long time.

Then, he slowly nodded.

"I think... I understand."

Lu Mingyuan looked at him.

"What do you understand?"

Zhang Qingyuan scratched his head.

"It's... it's that... that..."

He thought for a long time but couldn't figure out how to say it.

Finally, he said:

"It's just walking. Walk your own path, and you'll know once you've finished."

Lu Mingyuan smiled.

"Right. That's exactly it."

The sun slanted westward, and the sky gradually darkened.

The three of them stopped to rest in a small grove.

Zhang Qingyuan started a fire and took out some dry rations.

Lu Mingyuan sat by the fire, took out the Bamboo Scroll, and read it once more.

Every stroke of those characters seemed to have been carved with the very last ounce of strength. Yet in those words, there was no despair, no resentment, only peace.

The final peace.

He rolled up the Bamboo Scroll and tucked it into his robe.

Then, he took out the original copy of the 'classic of mountains and seas' and turned to the page for Bai Ze.

The Bai Ze in the drawing was quietly looking at him.

He looked up at the Bai Ze lying by the fire.

Bai Ze's eyes were closed, as if it were asleep.

But he knew it wasn't.

"Bai Ze."

Bai Ze opened its eyes.

"Hmm?"

Lu Mingyuan was silent for a while.

"You've lived for so long and seen many people die. Are there many like Daoist Songyun?"

Bai Ze thought for a moment.

"Not many. Most people are unwilling when they die. Those who can finally let go like he did are very few."

Lu Mingyuan nodded.

"So he was one of the better ones?"

Bai Ze looked at him.

"You could say that."

It paused.

"However, there's another kind of person who is even better than him."

Lu Mingyuan asked:

"What kind of person?"

Bai Ze said softly:

"A person who has already let go while still alive."

Lu Mingyuan was stunned.

Bai Ze looked at him.

"Your Master, Xuanweizi, was that kind of person."

The firelight flickered.

Lu Mingyuan gazed at the fire, not speaking for a long time.

He thought of Zhongnan Mountain, of the Old Taoist, and of the teachings from those years.

A person who has already let go while still alive.

Was Master that kind of person?

He remembered his Master's smile, his Master's words, and the look in his Master's eyes when he finally sent him down the mountain.

In that gaze, there was no reluctance, no attachment, only peace.

A peace just like the characters in Daoist Songyun's final Bamboo Scroll.

He suddenly understood something.

It wasn't an answer, but a direction.

The night deepened.

Zhang Qingyuan leaned against a tree and fell asleep.

Bai Ze lay there with its eyes closed, breathing evenly.

Lu Mingyuan sat by the fire, gazing at the starry sky for a long, long time.

Then, he took out the new Jade Pendant from his robe—the one from the Songyun ruins.

Two Jade Pendants; one old one returned to Songyun, and one new one he carried with him.

This new one was exactly the same as the old one.

But he knew it was different.

The old one had followed Songyun for nine hundred years, carrying his confusion, his resentment, and his waiting.

This new one was clean, with nothing on it.

He looked at the Jade Pendant and said softly:

"You follow me. We will walk together. When we reach the end, we'll see what there is to see."

The Jade Pendant did not respond.

But he knew it would always follow.

Just like Bai Ze, just like that book, just like the paths he had walked and the people he had met.

They would all follow.

He put away the Jade Pendant and closed his eyes.

By his ear was the sound of the sea breeze, the crackling of the fire, and Zhang Qingyuan's light snoring.

He thought of Daoist Songyun's words—

"Cultivation is walking, and walking is cultivation. Do not ask for the destination, do not ask for the return. Only ask of the feet, only ask of the present."

He opened his eyes and looked down at his feet.

Beneath his feet were soil, fallen leaves, and the shadow cast by the firelight.

It was very ordinary.

But he knew that this was the path.

He closed his eyes again.

This time, he fell asleep.

In his dream, a person stood atop a mountain peak, back turned to him, gazing at the starry sky.

The person did not turn around.

But he knew that was Songyun.

He was waiting there.

Waiting for someone to come.

Waiting for someone to tell him the answer.

But he no longer needed the answer.

He only needed someone to come.

He had come.

In the dream, Songyun slowly turned around.

He glanced at Lu Mingyuan and smiled.

The smile was very light and faint, but there was light in his eyes.

Then, he disappeared.

Lu Mingyuan opened his eyes.

It was almost dawn.

He sat up, gazing at the eastern sky for a long, long time.

Then, he said softly:

"Senior, have a safe journey."

The eastern sky began to turn pale.

A new day had begun.