owlsbooks Chapter 84 Water Palace, Walking on Water
Chapter 84 Water Palace, Walking on Water
Upon hearing this, Song Quyou muttered to himself, "Jingye Temple?"
"Young monk, what is your abbot's Buddhist name...?"
"My abbot's Buddhist name is Yuanzhao."
Song Quyou raised an eyebrow and continued, "Does that Master Yuande, young master, recognize him?"
"Master Yuande is my abbot's junior brother. He made a brief appearance at Lingfo Temple and then went down the mountain to cultivate."
Song Quyou didn't ask any more questions. He took a bite of the cornbread in his hand and sighed, "What a small world."
……
After having a free meal, Song Quyou bid farewell to Mr. Wu, left the temple, and returned to his own residence.
In the courtyard, Su Tang lay on her back on the stone steps, chewing on something.
Seeing Song Quyou return, Su Tang patted the stone steps beside her, gesturing for Song Quyou to sit down.
Song Quyou sat to the side and looked at Su Tang, who was still somewhat dazed, and said, "What's wrong with you today, Senior Sister? You seem so listless."
Su Tang yawned and said lazily, "I went to see Miss Jing yesterday. She wasn't in the well, but she left a message for you at the bottom of the well."
I wanted to tell you last night, but you came home too late and I fell asleep.
As she spoke, Su Tang tossed the water-repelling pearl over, saying, "Go see for yourself. It's at the bottom of the well. Senior Sister just finished eating and needs to go back and catch up on some sleep."
After saying that, Su Tang got up and walked towards the room. Song Quyou, holding the water-repelling bead, sat on the stone steps, looking at Su Tang, who was walking somewhat stiffly, with a puzzled expression.
However, Song Quyou didn't think much of it. He patted the fluffy head beside him, got up, and walked towards the backyard.
The well water in the backyard was clear and cool, with a hint of green.
Song Quyou leaped into the well with the pearl in his hand. The moment he entered the water, the pearl suddenly emitted a glow, covering Song Quyou with an invisible barrier. The clear well water avoided him on its own, leaving no trace of his clothes.
The water shimmered, and the well was much deeper than I had imagined. After diving for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, my body suddenly passed through a film of water and landed in an empty, dry cave filled with soft gravel.
Once Song Quyou regained his balance, he looked around and discovered a hidden world at the bottom of the well.
Several luminous pearls, the size of pigeon eggs, were embedded in the stone wall, their soft light illuminating this small space as bright as day.
Looking up, the well water above seemed to hang suspended, like a huge piece of turquoise glass placed on top, with occasional ripples spreading out and creating shimmering circles of light.
The well was three zhang in circumference, and its furnishings were simple yet exquisite: a jade table, two bamboo chairs, and a half-person-high clam shell cabinet in the corner, with the cabinet door slightly ajar, revealing neatly folded clothes inside.
A traditional Chinese ink painting hangs on the wall, depicting the tide rising under the moon. At the end of the painting is a small cinnabar seal with only the character "汐" (Xi).
Song Quyou looked around but did not find the message his senior sister had mentioned.
Just as he was wondering what was going on, a flash of blue light appeared, and Song Quyou turned around and followed the light.
The blue light actually came from the painting, like a dragon soaring through the water, piercing through the clouds and splitting the mist.
Song Quyou stepped closer to examine the painting closely, and the moment his hand touched it, he felt as if the world had turned upside down and the light was dazzling.
When the dazzling light faded and he found himself standing on a rocky outcrop under the moonlight, Song Quyou realized that he was standing on a rocky outcrop under the moon.
The sea breeze is damp and salty, the waves crash against the shore, and in the distance, the tide surges like silver, the waves roll like snow. The turbulent currents startle the sun and moon, the surging waves overturn the Milky Way.
Above the moon's reflection in the tide, a flash of blue light appeared, and a woman in a blue dress and long, unbound hair, holding a blue-handled spear, stood barefoot on the crest of a wave.
The woman turned around, and the moonlight fell perfectly on her face. It was a beautiful face, with a touch of heroism and a hint of aloofness in her eyes.
She treads on the surging tide as if it were flat ground, the spear in her hand gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
Song Quyou cupped his hands and said, "Miss Jing."
The woman came riding on the waves, her face indifferent. She cupped her hands to Song Quyou and said, "Master Song, what brings you here?"
Song Quyou was not too surprised by the changes in the well girl and replied, "It's nothing. Yesterday, my senior sister came down and said that you were not in the well. She left me a letter, so I came down to check on you today."
It seems I was deceived by my senior sister. I apologize for the inconvenience. Farewell.
Song Quyou turned around and walked back, but he couldn't find a way out.
Helpless, he bowed again and said, "Please tell me the way out, young lady."
The girl from Najing looked at Song Quyou in front of her, her brows furrowed slightly, and with a flick of her left hand, a three-foot-long green sword pierced into the reef.
"Master Song's swordsmanship is superb; I would like to experience it for myself."
Song Quyou glanced at the green sword embedded in the reef, looked at the cold tide, and sighed softly, "Miss, we are friends, and I have no intention of resorting to violence."
Miss Jing did not answer. With a light tap of her toes, she moved like a seagull and arrived in front of him. Her long spear swept across, the tip cutting through the wind and emitting a sharp whistling sound.
Song Quyou leaned back to avoid it, his robe sleeves fluttering in the strong wind.
The second shot followed immediately, aimed straight at his face.
Song Quyou refused to back down. A long sword clattered out from beneath his feet, its spine bracing against the spear shaft. He used the momentum to deflect the spearhead three inches, grazing Song Quyou's ear and piercing the night wind behind him.
Before the opponent could stop, the sword slid up the gun barrel, aiming straight for her fingers holding the gun.
Miss Jing reacted with lightning speed. With a flick of her wrist, the spear shaft slipped from her hand and spun half a circle. The spear's butt deflected the sword's edge, and she caught the middle of the spear with her left hand. In the same motion, she used the spear's butt to stab Song Quyou in the chest. This change of move was swift and fluid. Song Quyou had no choice but to withdraw his sword and parry. The sword and the spear's butt collided, sending sparks flying.
The two are instantly separated.
Song Quyou stood holding a sword, the tip of which pointed diagonally at the ground, his robe damp with seawater.
Miss Jing stood seven paces away, a gun in one hand, the sea breeze ruffling her skirt like a pool of rippling spring water.
Song Quyou suppressed the helplessness in his heart at being teased by his senior sister, slightly raised the edge of his sword, and said calmly, "Since you insist on trying, I will accompany you."
Without saying much, Miss Jing moved swiftly and returned on the waves.
This time, the spear thrust was no longer as swift and fierce as before; instead, it surged like a rising tide, dense and layered, one layer pressing down on the other. The silver-tipped spear seemed to come alive in her hands, sometimes like a dragon emerging from the water, sweeping and powerful; sometimes like a serpent spitting its tongue, striking with tricky angles.
Song Quyou remained calm and composed, his longsword flashing like a bolt of lightning. The rocks beneath his feet were slippery, but his stance was as steady as a rock. Each strike he made was not for the sake of gain, but only for the sake of defense.
The two fought for an unknown amount of time, their silver spears and green swords clashing countless times.
Suddenly, Miss Jing withdrew her spear, and floated back more than ten feet, landing back on the crest of a surging wave.
Her chest rose and fell slightly, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. The cold moonlight made most of the cold and aloof expression on her beautiful face fade away.
"Master Song's swordsmanship is truly superb."
"May I leave now, young lady?"
The girl glanced at him, but didn't answer. She simply slammed her spear against the rock, the butt of the spear sinking three inches into the stone. She raised a hand to gather her long hair, which had been tousled by the sea breeze, and suddenly asked a completely unrelated question:
"If a Taoist priest's family property is seized or occupied, his parents are killed or suppressed, and he was once harmonious with his neighbors, but after his death he is slandered and smeared with dirty water."
Meanwhile, the enemy who did all this lives off your home, your savings, your parents' flesh and blood, and your many children and grandchildren, living a carefree and happy life.
This bliss lasted for four hundred years. You, as a descendant, have lived so long yet know nothing. If it weren't for finding a trace of your parents' remains, everything would still be covered up, and you would still be living in a daze.
If the Taoist priest were this person, would you hate him?
Song Quyou's eyes were cold and deep, his brows furrowed.
The sea breeze rushed into his sleeves, making a rustling sound.
For some reason, as soon as he was slightly influenced by what the girl in the well said, a chilling killing intent uncontrollably emanated from his bones and burst forth.
"I hate it!!!" he said, his voice not loud, but it drowned out the sound of the tide.
"The hatred of killing my father and mother, the resentment of seizing my home and property, the shame of being deceived for four hundred years—I hate every single one of them. I wish I could kill them all, I wish I could skin them alive, I wish I could chew their bones and swallow their marrow..."
He looked up at Miss Jing and spoke each word clearly.
"Such a deep-seated blood feud deserves revenge; it is a matter of course. I will not stop you!"
The girl's hand gripping the gun trembled slightly.
"But I would like to ask a question."
Song Quyou asked calmly, "Who is that enemy? Where is he now? In these three hundred years, have you investigated his background? Figured out his methods? Found his accomplices? Found his weakness? Found his descendants?"
The wave suddenly stopped, and the tide beneath the well girl's feet dropped three inches.
"If you, young lady, are merely practicing your marksmanship in this painting every day, confining yourself to a small well, and glaring fiercely at the moon within this painting, then forgive my bluntness..."
"This is not preparing for revenge; this is torturing yourself with hatred. And your enemy is right here in your house, using your parents' belongings, eating their flesh and blood, and enjoying the blessings of a house full of children and grandchildren."
Miss Jing's face turned pale instantly.
"Shut up!!!"
A flash of blue light, a sudden gust of wind, and the sharp spearhead was already pressed against Song Quyou's throat. The girl's hand gripping the spear turned white at the knuckles, her fingers cracking and trembling violently.
"What do you know?" Her voice trembled, her eyes reddened, her face pale, but there were no tears.
"What do you know? What do you know!... "
Song Quyou pushed aside the spear, his steps light and steady, stopping a step in front of the girl in the well, and said in a deep voice: "If you fall, no one will avenge you."
"What you need to do is not to torture yourself, but to proceed step by step, to understand things clearly and keep them in mind. The blood feud will be avenged sooner or later."
The young woman looked up into Song Quyou's eyes, her gaze flickering, and said weakly, "If they become benevolent gods and Buddhas, and I kill them, will you stop me?"
Song Quyou did not avoid her gaze, but smiled faintly: "A man-eating dog will always eat people, it will just become more civilized, more secretive, and wear a more beautiful skin."
They didn't become benevolent gods or Buddhas; they simply learned to avoid eating people when they were eating them.
Therefore, we shouldn't judge a person by a single moment, but by their entire life; there will always be a time when they inevitably slip up and reveal their true colors.
The sound of the tide filled my ears, and I remained silent for a long time.
The girl stared at him blankly, the tip of her gun drooping, leaving a shallow mark on the reef.
The moonlight fell into her eyes, and those eyes were no longer distant and cold as before.
……
After leaving the well, Song Quyou walked to the front yard, where he saw Su Tang leaning comfortably against the stone table, enjoying pastries, without taking a nap.
That's incredibly arrogant of my senior sister.
Seeing Song Quyou come out, she, eager to see what was going on, immediately ran over and asked, "Junior brother, how is Miss Jing?"
Song Quyou pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, making Su Tang feel guilty and involuntarily take two steps back.
Why did my senior sister lie to me?
……
Su Tang stuffed the pastry in her hand into her mouth, put her hands on her hips, and with a change in demeanor, overpowered Song Quyou, saying:
"That girl is incredibly stubborn, and I'm not even close to her. Who else can persuade her besides you?"
"You should have told me beforehand!"
"If I tell you, will you be willing to go down? Even if you do go down, will it have the same effect as this sudden departure?"
Song Quyou was speechless after being rebuked by Su Tang. After a long while, he sighed helplessly and rubbed his temples.
"Senior sister's words, even if rude, are still polite."
After saying that, he turned and went into the house, leaving Su Tang, who wanted to ask something else, outside the door, and ignored her.
Su Tang, who was blocked at the door, waved her fist, wrinkled her nose, and snorted.
Upon seeing the large yellow dog sitting upright on the ground, he pointed inside the house and said, "Your owner is heartless. I kindly helped him repair the relationship, and he still blames me for lying to him."
Big Yellow couldn't understand these words; it just tilted its head and let out a low whimper.
Su Tang squatted down, reached out and ruffled the fluffy head twice, huffing and puffing, "He takes his anger out on you, you little dog."
Big Yellow's ears were being rubbed so hard they were practically flying off, but it didn't flinch. Instead, it squinted its eyes and swept its tail across the bluestone slab, looking like it was ready to be rubbed and kneaded at will.
……
Once inside, Song Quyou felt somewhat annoyed, so he took out his old teapot and crawled inside.
Within the pot.
The lark was lying on the desk, intently looking at the tattered scroll of the Heavenly Book that had already been laid out.
"What's wrong?"
Yun Que looked up at Song Quyou and said, "There's a new technique in the book: Water Walking."
Song Quyou stepped forward to examine it, and sure enough, there was an extra piece of golden ink cloud seal script in the book, with flowing light and rotation.
Walking on water: walking on water as if walking on flat ground.
After mastering this skill, one can walk on the crest of a wave without sinking or sinking.
Yun Que got up, went to the edge of the small pond, and said to Song Quyou, "Let's try this magic on the water."
As she spoke, Yun Que chanted an incantation and circulated her Qi, lightly touching the water's surface with her toes, creating a delicate ripple that spread out from beneath her feet.
She landed barefoot on the water, as if it were not a clear pool, but a piece of transparent, unseen glass.
The water rippled slightly, but she remained motionless. She looked down at her feet, then took two more steps forward; the water surface remained as solid as the ground.
The lark, feeling playful, started trotting on the water with tiny steps, each step creating a fleeting splash.
Song Quyou followed the instructions in the book, channeling his Qi to his feet, and slowly stepped into the water.
He took this step with great care, and when his feet touched the water, an invisible barrier seemed to support him.
Perhaps because of my anxiety, my legs felt unsteady, as if I were stepping on soaked cotton, soft and weak, unable to exert any strength.
Song Quyou silently recited the Heart-Cleansing Mantra and took a few more steps forward. Gradually, he found the trick: his breath sank downwards, and the water surface rose upwards. The two canceled each other out, and his steps became steady.
After walking about ten steps, Song Quyou gradually relaxed. The soft feeling under his feet slowly faded, replaced by a steady support, as solid as the ground.
Song Quyou walked around the ancient pine tree on the small pond several times, and had already mastered the art of walking on water, but he didn't know what it would be like to walk on large rivers.
Song Quyou walked back to the shore, sat cross-legged by the water, and practiced his flying sword by forming hand seals and meditating to cultivate thunder magic. These were the two things he did every day.