章節 74: Chapter 70
" This corporeal world, this self, forgotten.¹
— FOR THOSE WHO HAVE STUDIED WUGONG and reached the pinnacle of their art,
to wander alone² with the knowledge can be harmful for them. This is why, when they
have reached a certain level, wugong technique becomes similar to that of a foreign
object—it is not necessarily the key to victory.
However, this certainly does not mean that technique is not essential. Just as words are
the voice of the mind, what is beautiful on the inside should be just as well on the
outside. If only one's neigong is unparalleled their whole life, then it would be
tantamount to possessing a mountain of treasure with empty hands, yet not knowing
how to use it.
Qi Fengge was the most brilliant wugong master of his time. Those who have
thoroughly studied swordsmanship can be lost by the splendor of countless sword
techniques; they may not know how to apply each one. The better choice is to simplify
what is complicated; so Qi Fengge took the swordplay techniques of Xuandu Mountain
and consolidated them. In the end, he left behind two sets of techniques: of them, one
was the famous Canglang Sword Technique.
The sets of sword techniques from Xuandu Mountain combined the Daoist doctrines of
tranquility and inaction, as well as the Daoist practice of ziran3 theory. There is an
emphasis on moving as one with silence⁴ and striking only after one's opponent has, as
well as on agility and elegance. As it happened, Shen Qiao's personality worked well in
accordance with this skillset, so when he studied it, his approach often yielded twice
the results.
But when he had begun to cultivate the true qi from the Zhuyang Ce, his former
swordplay techniques gradually became less suitable for him, for the true qi of the
Zhuyang Ce did not only contain Daoist theory, but also the essence of Confucian and
Buddhist teachings combined into one. The capable and vigorous nature of
Confucianism, as well as the unwavering strength of Buddhism could not possibly be
embodied in the Canglang Sword Technique.
However, even if all things in this world had their differences, they will also inevitably
share some similarities. Earlier, when he had seen that performer dancing as he
practiced calligraphy, he noticed that the performer did not seem to perform for the
crowd of onlookers, despite being in a loud market and performing his art to turn a
profit. Instead, he was wholeheartedly immersed in what he was doing.
He performed with unwavering concentration, a dance filled with joy. The dancing style of the
Western regions was bold and unrestrained yet calligraphy was a meticulous art.
By
bringing these two arts together, he created an exotic sort of harmony that bridged
both strength and gentleness. Though onlookers may simply think that his actions were
very beautiful, Shen Qiao had vicariously learned through the experience and from it,
he had created an entirely new sword technique.
At this moment, his body rose as his blade fell. The light from the blade shined freely
as the winter sun fell behind the tops of the trees. Though much life has withered here,
this single person and his sword swept over the land, cleansing it. He turned his body
and began to move in such a way that it resembled the supple and yielding nature of
the spring breeze and rain, and other times, the firm and transcendent nature of the Buddhist chu⁵.
The mild spring sun, the clear summer moon, all of it was within him. The rustling autumn breeze, the cold winter grass, conceal, but do not harm.
The pure mountains and rivers, the torrential Jianghan river, their essence as though
heaven-made.
A divine light shines and departs,
and it would be suddenly light, suddenly dark.
He stood as though like a crane, bringing its lithe and graceful body to its feet,
preparing to fly, having yet to soar. ⁶
As his soul was in his sword,
his sword was in his person.
The corporeal world, this self, forgotten,
and with this, he comes to a clear, transparent understanding.
The surrounding trees collapsed, one after the other, as the jian qi drew near it, as
though experiencing the effects of the jian qi upon itself. A narrow trail of jian qi
emerged from the soil beneath him, which was once cold and hard.
The jian qi was sometimes deep, and sometimes shallow; sometimes it was long, and sometimes it
was short. Occasionally, the dead leaves would part from their branches one by one, as though in awe of the jian qi--yet before they touched the ground, they would be spun
around by the jian qi that encircled it.
Suddenly, the point of the sword would tremble,the withered leaves would seem
to move somewhat with it, before each leaf suddenly shooting ahead with such force
that it plunged three zhang deep into the trunks of the trees—not revealing any more,
and not leaving any less.
That a master could pour true qi into flowers in the breeze or falling leaves to wound
someone was not unheard of. However, to use a sword to defend from the leaves was
at least a level beyond that.
The Shanhe Tongbei sword hummed a low vibration, as though fluctuating with its
user's frame of mind. Concealed within it were the boundless mountains and rivers; the
sound of the wind, the thunder, the ocean waves.
The light of the blade was not so
bright that it blinded the eyes, but only enough to produce a weak layer of illumination
to the body of the sword, having a much softer appearance than before. However, this
light could move with Shen Qiao's will—appearing and disappearing intermittently,
rising and falling as he did.
With this technique complete, Shen Qiao stood and sheathed his sword. He exhaled a
slow, long breath. The excitement he experienced in his heart had not yet completely
subsided, while the blood had gone cold in the pit of his stomach leaving him close to
nausea.
He understood that this was because he had understood the realm of jian xin, but his
nei li was not yet sufficient enough to manage jian xin, so the jian qi had retaliated
against him.
Those who study wugong only wish for a single thing in their lifetimes: to progress
without end, climbing each new level. Therefore, while the less talented look up to
these masters, it is these masters who, in contrast, wish to continue forwards and climb over such obstacles, with no limits as to what they have yet to learn in this sea of
knowledge. How can wu dao ever have limits? Jian dao⁷ had four boundaries: jian qi,
jian yi, jian xin, and jian shen. To many people, jian shen was only something heard of
in legends.
Outside of the couple Gan Jiang and Mo Ye sacrificing themselves and
sacrificing their lives for their swords, having obeyed orders and achieving the
boundary of jian shen in this way⁸, from the past until now, nearly no other person would ever reach this stage.
As far as those who have reached the stage of jian xin, one would scan all the land and
the past several decades, and they would only find that Tao Hongjing and Qi Fengge
were the only two people who had ever done this.
And they have passed on. Tao Hongjing and Qi Fengge, in the end, remain a part of
history.
While Shen Qiao lives in this moment.
Shen-daozhang sheathed his sword, and remained standing where he was. He slowly
relaxed his quick, chaotic breathing. He felt the contentment that had filled his heart
gradually disappear. And he suddenly remembered a very serious issue he had
forgotten Yan Wushi back at the restaurant.
Shen Qiao said to himself, this isn't good, and swiftly headed back to the city.
Yan Wushi didn't have a fraction of a wen on him. Shen Qiao had even left. If the
restaurant's keeper were to press for money for the meal, it would be difficult to
imagine what the other person would do, even if the near-harmless "Xie Ling" was the
disposition in control.
Once he thought of this, Shen Qiao's pace quickened. In the blink of an eye, he had
returned to that very restaurant.
Sure enough, standing by their spot by the second-floor window were about seven or
eight people. Amongst them was the owner of the restaurant, as well as a few
customers.
Yan Wushi was surrounded on all sides by a crowd that fixed their gazes upon him.
However, he did not move. Beneath the mi li, one would be unable to make out the
expression he wore.
At first glance, it would seem that he had just been scolded and
sat there, meekly, not daring to move.
Shen Qiao quickly approached them.
"I'm very sorry. Earlier, I had a brief matter to attend to and left for a moment. How
much is it together? I'll pay for it!"
The owner of the restaurant was a Han person. The moment he laid eyes on Shen
Qiao, it was as though he had caught sight of his savior. Wearing a bitter look, he
began: "Langjun, we're but a small business. It is difficult in many respects to carry on."
"Are you still angry? I was wrong, I shouldn't have left you there and went off the way I
did. So don't be angry anymore. I wanted so much to try out that swordplay technique,
so I was careless. If you want something to eat or to play with, I'll go and buy it for you.
How about that?"
Yan Wushi was silent for a moment, before saying: "I want another tang ren."
Shen Qiao was silent.
When the other person said he wanted tang ren, Shen Qiao suddenly felt a small
regret. But then again, he had been the one to dig his own grave and jump right into it.
He had stated the terms, so how could he not commit to them? Because of this, he
could only bring Yan Wushi back to the vendor from earlier that made tang ren. The
vendor still recognized them, and smiled curiously: "You two have come back again?
Perhaps you still want tang ren?"
Shen Qiao said, embarrassed: "Yes. Please give us another one."
"Two more," Yan Wushi said.
"...two more please." Shen Qiao could only compromise.
Who could possibly regret business at their door? The vendor beamed with smiles, and
moved quickly. Two tang ren were immediately spun from sugar and produced.
Yan Wushi took one in each hand. He bit into one and crunched loudly, while Shen
Qiao could only pretend not to hear, and took him to the inn for a room.
Every time they had a room, always, one person would sleep in the bed, while the
other would meditate. Shen Qiao's nei li was gradually recovering, so when they had
time, he would meditate instead of sleep. This was not only because the other person
would not practice wugong, but also because it served as a form of rest.
"Since we have that sheet of silk, you can heal your demonic core now. You had ought
to..." Shen Qiao said to Yan Wushi.
But halfway through, he suddenly stopped.
This was because Yan Wushi had removed his mi li and already finished one tang ren.
He was just starting on the other tang ren's "head" and was licking it slowly. He licked
it so that the Shen Qiao tang ren's face and head were glistening all over.
"...what are you doing?" Shen Qiao asked.
Yan Wushi said, innocently: "I'm a little full. So this one, I have to, eat slowly."
***
1 The original chapter title isn't on jjwxc anymore, so I just picked a line and put it here.
2 fei hua luo ye. An idiom, literally translated, that means: a fluttering flower, a falling leaf. It is
used to describe Pratyekabuddhas , or those who have achieved Buddhist enlightenment
alone, without teachers or guides.
3 ziran. This is typically translated as 'nature', but 'ziran' also means simply 'to be,' or 'naturally
occuring'.
4 yi jing zhi dong: to move along with silence. often used to describe being as patient as one
can with a decision, not to act rashly; to move with one's opponent instead of trying to move first.
5 fo chu. a Buddhist ritual object, referred to as a 'vajra' in Sanskrit, meant to symbolize both the properties of
a diamond (indestructibility) and a thunderbolt (irresistible force).
6 This is an excerpt from Ode to the Nymph of Luo River by Cao Zhi . Translation from Classical to
contemporary Mandarin here, and thank goodness for it, because I was not going to make heads or tails of it
otherwise.
7 jiandao: the 'path' of studying the sword, swordsmanship.
8 gan jiang and mo ye: a swordsmith couple who were prominent in literature during the spring
and autumn period, and...yeah, they died as a result of forging these swords, named for them! you can
read this tale here.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票