20demayo Chapter 212 Going to Wuqing Temple to meet Shen Shulan
Chapter 212 Going to Wuqing Temple to meet Shen Shulan
Chapter 212 Go to Wuqing Temple and meet Shen Shulan (4600)
Lu Yuan lifted the carriage curtain and jumped down.
The morning chill was even stronger than at Tianlong Temple, carrying a refreshing scent of pine needles and cold spring water that invigorated him.
Looking up, the mountain where Wuqing Temple is located is completely different from the majestic and imposing atmosphere of Tianlong Temple, which resembles a "coiled dragon".
Tianlong Temple is a "tyrant".
Wuqing Temple, on the other hand, is "hidden".
The entire mountain seems to be still immersed in ancient clouds and mist, with winding mountain paths hidden among vigorous ancient pines and strangely shaped firs.
It appears and disappears, like a suspended staircase leading to a fairyland, straight to the ethereal clouds.
The mountain gate was not as magnificent as that of Tianlong Temple, which was built with black iron and glazed tiles.
Instead, the wooden archway is supported by several rough, ancient obsidian pillars that seem to have grown directly from the mountain.
The three large characters "Wuqing Temple" on the plaque are not as ostentatious as those of Tianlong Temple.
Instead, it is inlaid with unknown animal bones, with a dark color, yet it radiates a warm and mysterious aura in the dim light of dawn.
Like ancient jade; at first glance, it seems ordinary, but upon closer inspection, it reveals a profound and lasting charm.
Instead of the imposing stone carvings of warding off evil spirits found at Tianlong Temple, there are two "Welcoming Pine" trees on either side of the mountain gate, each said to be a thousand years old.
The branches are gnarled and twisted, lush and verdant, with a faint, firefly-like glow flowing among the leaves, exuding a sense of vibrant life and harmony with the natural order.
Lu Yuan took a deep breath. Although the concentration of spiritual energy was not as dense as that of Tianlong Temple, it was purer and clearer.
Inhaling the air refreshed my mind and spirit, a stark contrast to the oppressive "royal grandeur" of Tianlong Temple.
"A blessed land of immortals —"
Lu Yuan sighed inwardly.
If Tianlong Temple is a magnificent city built on a mountain, then Wuqing Temple is like a true hermitage hidden deep in the mountains.
Tianlong Temple exudes the ultimate luxury of human life and the majesty of power.
Wuqing Temple, on the other hand, exudes an ethereal and mysterious aura that transcends worldly affairs and returns to simplicity.
Here, you won't feel like there's some "celestial being" issuing orders; you'll only feel that there are truly enlightened masters living here.
At this moment, two young Taoist priests dressed in gray-blue robes were sweeping and cleaning at the mountain gate.
Their movements were slow and gentle, their breaths long and even, their expressions serene, as if they had become one with the mountains, the clouds, and the trees.
When they saw outsiders visiting, they simply nodded slightly in greeting.
He lacked the scrutiny and arrogance of the disciples of Tianlong Temple, instead displaying the composure of a hermit.
Lu Yuan straightened his clothes, calming down the tension he felt when dealing with complex situations at Tianlong Temple, and letting his mind become as peaceful as the morning mist in the mountains.
Lu Yuan stepped onto the mountain path. The bluestone steps under his feet were slippery and moist, with thick moss growing in the cracks, exuding a warm feeling that had been soaked by time.
This is completely different from the jet-black jade steps of Tianlong Temple.
It has less of the "man-made" grandeur and more of the "natural" elegance.
Ancient trees towered on both sides of the mountain path.
Those ancient pines and cypresses, with their gnarled branches like dragons, and their canopies intertwined in the air, almost obscuring the sky.
Only when the morning breeze blows can a few thin, silvery rays of dawn seep through.
A thick, milky-white fog filled the forest, obscuring the view.
The distant scenery was indistinct, but the sound of rustling pines, mixed with the clear chirping of birds and the babbling of flowing water could be heard.
It's as if you're inside an ancient painting.
When you reach the halfway point of the mountain, the view suddenly opens up.
On the edge of the cliff, a pavilion was built suspended in mid-air, following the contours of the mountain.
These buildings lack the overwhelming grandeur of Tianlong Temple, as well as the gaudy glamour of glazed tiles and golden roofs.
They are mostly built with logs and bluish-gray rocks, with upturned eaves and smooth, simple lines, as if they grew naturally from the mountain.
Unmelted snow piled up on the dark gray tiled roof, blending seamlessly with the ancient, vigorous trees and swirling clouds.
From a distance, these pavilions seem not to have been "built," but rather to have been "dwelling" here.
These pavilions exude a sense of detachment and transcendence, as if they were isolated from the world.
More and more pilgrims gradually appeared on the mountain path.
But unlike the bustling and lively Tianlong Temple, the pilgrims here are sparse and quiet.
Most of them wore simple cotton robes, walked leisurely, and spoke in very low voices, as if afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the mountains.
Lu Yuan noticed that many of the worshippers were dressed in rather peculiar ways.
Some had medicine gourds hanging from their waists, while others carried bamboo baskets on their backs, which appeared to be filled with freshly picked herbs.
Clearly, these people were not simply pilgrims.
Many others came from afar: herb gatherers, itinerant doctors, or practitioners seeking Taoist methods to aid their medical skills.
An old man carrying a huge bamboo basket walked past Lu Yuan, and the basket emitted a faint, bitter medicinal fragrance.
He glanced at Lu Yuan, his gaze calm and profound, nodded slightly, and continued climbing the steps, his steps light as if he were not an old man.
Several other simply dressed women carried bamboo baskets, which contained not expensive incense and candles, but homemade steamed white cakes and some wild fruits.
They spoke in hushed tones, their conversation not about making or fulfilling wishes.
Instead, it contained content such as "The prescription given by the Taoist priest in the temple last month was very effective" and "The Ganoderma lucidum in the back mountain seems to have matured."
Lu Yuan understood.
Tianlong Temple seeks "power," which is the incense and offerings from the people, so it has thousands of rooms to accommodate the masses.
The Wuqing Temple seems to seek the "Tao," which is a combination with nature, plants, and traditional Chinese medicine.
The incense burning here is subtle and not strong, more like a form of neighborly worship and mutual assistance.
The higher you go, the more elegant the buildings become.
There is a courtyard called "Hundred Herbs Garden" with low walls and a fragrant aroma of herbs.
The disciples, dressed in Taoist robes, were seen bending over and pounding medicine, their movements slow and graceful, like a dance.
There is also the "Listening to the Waves Pavilion," which is suspended beside the waterfall. The roaring sound of the water is cleverly incorporated into the interior by the architecture, turning it into a gentle murmur, allowing people to play the zither and contemplate the Tao.
There is none of the domineering pressure of "one's word is as weighty as gold" here, unlike the Tianlong Temple.
There is only a scholarly and mountain-like air of detachment from worldly desires and tranquility leading to far-reaching goals.
Lu Yuan took a deep breath. Although the spiritual energy in the air was not as dense as that of Tianlong Temple, it was like drinking sweet spring water, refreshing his heart and soul.
After several days of travel, it brought him a sense of genuine relaxation and peace for the first time.
This is no Taoist temple; it is clearly a herbal hut perched in the clouds, a true blessed land for immortals to cultivate themselves.
Lu Yuan continued climbing the steps, and the higher he went, the more intense the ethereal and otherworldly feeling of the "celestial paradise" became.
The clouds and mist seemed to flow right beside you, within reach, yet you couldn't grasp a single strand.
The bluestone steps underfoot are smooth and shiny from years of moss and mist, and stepping on them gives one the illusion of walking on clouds.
All around was utterly silent, save for the rustling of pine needles in the wind and the distant, faint roar of a waterfall, which together created a natural symphony of Taoist rhythm.
As we approached the summit, the scenery suddenly changed.
The elegant pavilions that were originally scattered among the ancient trees began to present a layout that was both highly ordered and imposing.
The building is still made of wood and bluestone, but the style has changed from "hidden" to "guardian".
Every so often along the mountain path, there is a stone pavilion. Instead of stone tables and benches for people to rest, the pavilion contains a huge bronze medicine cauldron or a furnace for refining weapons.
Although there was no smoke or fire, one could still feel the residual warmth of the furnace.
The crisp, cool scent of pine needles and spring water gradually faded from the air, replaced by a more powerful and sharp aura.
That was the sound of weapons being sharpened, the heat of elixirs being produced, and the lingering echo of pure power surging.
"Is this another side of Wuqing Temple? —"
Lu Yuan thought to himself.
If the foot of the mountain is a fairyland where "the clouds are deep and the land is unknown," then the mountaintop is an armory where "a thousand hammers and a hundred forgings" are performed.
After all, Wuqing Temple, Wuqing Temple, the most important thing is martial arts!
After passing through the last moon gate called "Tongyou", the main hall area of the real Wuqing Temple is revealed.
There is neither the overwhelming luxury of Tianlong Temple nor the desolate poverty of Zhenlong Temple.
Dozens of palaces and pavilions are arranged in an almost mystical formation, following the contours of the mountain.
Each building appears imposing and ancient.
Above the eaves and brackets, instead of ornately decorated bells, hang bronze bells and iron chimes of varying sizes.
There are even giant, unsharpened weapon models.
A gentle breeze blew by, and the metal objects tapped against each other, producing not a crisp, ringing sound.
Instead, there were deep, chilling clangs of metal on metal, as if a thousand troops were roaring within them.
The square was no longer filled with the well-dressed, arrogant disciples of Tianlong Temple.
Everywhere you look, you see young Taoist priests dressed in short, tight-fitting clothes with worn-out cuffs and hems.
Some of them were practicing swordsmanship, their sword energy crisscrossing and cutting through the mist.
Some paired up and sparred on a specially made arena, each collision producing a dull thud and causing their blood to surge.
Others were carrying huge timbers or ore, their steps steady.
Each step on the stone slab produced a heavy, muffled thud, a testament to the pinnacle of pure physical strength.
Lu Yuan even saw an old Taoist priest with white hair and beard standing shirtless in the center of the square.
He allowed two young disciples to strike his vital points on his back with all their might, wielding wooden sticks wrapped in cotton cloth.
The old Taoist remained unmoved, with a faint golden light flowing beneath his skin, emitting a clanging sound like metal striking stone.
"What domineering golden aura!"
Lu Yuan's pupils contracted slightly.
This is the source of Wuqing Temple's confidence as the premier Taoist temple outside the Great Wall!
Wuqing Temple relies on real martial prowess, a combination of martial arts and Taoist practices honed through countless trials!
At this time, the three large characters "Wuqing Temple" on the huge plaque in front of the main hall were not written.
Instead, it was cast from an unknown metal, with a dark color, yet it exuded a sharp edge that could cut through anything.
The stone slabs in the square in front of the palace have long been worn and pitted, marks left by countless generations of people practicing martial arts and testing their swords.
Here, the spiritual energy remains pure, but it is no longer the gentle kind that makes one want to sit quietly and contemplate the Tao.
Instead, it is filled with a soaring, upward-looking "martial arts will" that seems to break through the clouds.
Lu Yuan took a deep breath. The air here seemed to carry the smell of rust and sweat, an environment where true strongmen could survive.
As Lu Yuan looked up at the main hall complex of Wuqing Temple, which was so different in grandeur from Tianlong Temple and Zhenlong Temple, a strong sense of emotion welled up in his heart.
As for the grandeur of Tianlong Temple, perhaps one could only imitate its superficial aspects by spending money and manpower.
But to build a temple as grand as Wuqing Temple would probably be more than just a matter of money.
Every piece of bluestone and every log blends perfectly with nature.
He was about to step forward and ask one of the sweeping boys where Shen Shulan was so that he could pass on the message.
"Thump—"
'
A deep, ancient bell tolled, seemingly from the primordial era, suddenly resounding across the square!
This bell was neither the command to summon disciples like that of Tianlong Temple, nor the didactic sound of the evening drum and morning bell of Zhenlong Temple.
Lu Yuan raised an eyebrow. He saw that the many Wuqing Temple disciples who were practicing swordsmanship, sparring, and moving supplies in the square stopped what they were doing the moment they heard the bell.
With solemn expressions and synchronized movements, they quickly converged on a huge open-air preaching platform at the side and rear of the main hall.
Not only the disciples, but also the pilgrims walking on the mountain path and the herb gatherers carrying medicine baskets all changed direction.
With an expression of pilgrimage-like devotion, they hurried toward the preaching platform.
"This is----?"
Lu Yuan grabbed a young Taoist priest who was hurrying along and asked him politely.
Although the Taoist priest was in a hurry, seeing that Lu Yuan was a stranger, he still answered briefly: "Today's lecture will be given by the Heavenly Venerable."
"If you miss this opportunity, who knows when you'll get another chance?"
After saying that, he said no more and quickened his pace to blend into the crowd.
"Is the Celestial Venerable the one giving the lecture?"
Lu Yuan's heart stirred, and a hint of understanding and surprise flashed in his eyes.
As is well known, Wuqing Temple's goal of having two Celestial Venerables was ultimately not achieved because of Lu Yuan.
At present, the only one in Wuqing Temple who can be called a Celestial Venerable is Shen Shulan.
After all, Shen Jizhou is no longer the same person.
Of course, it's also possible that he was a disciple of Wuqing Temple, and that he still addressed Shen Jizhou as "Celestial Venerable."
After all, what happened last time was a painful memory for Shen Jizhou.
The people in Wuqing Temple would naturally not rub salt into Shen Jizhou's wounds, and it's possible they would continue to call him Heavenly Venerable.
In reality, it won't.
After all, even when Shen Jizhou was still a Celestial Venerable, the disciples of Wuqing Temple would not call him Celestial Venerable.
After all, Shen Jizhou was the abbot.
Therefore, the one giving the sermon must be Shen Shulan.
Lu Yuan watched the crowd rapidly converging like rivers flowing into the sea.
Feel the "martial will" in the air, which became even stronger because of the sound of the bell.
Um----
Following the crowd, Lu Yuan slowly walked towards the magnificent open-air preaching platform that stood on the edge of the cliff.
A huge open-air preaching platform is suspended on the edge of a sheer cliff.
The platform was cast from an unknown black metal, which gleamed with a cold, iron-gray luster in the morning light.
In stark contrast to the surrounding rustic wooden structures, it exudes an undeniable aura of solemnity.
At this time, the area around the preaching platform was already densely packed with people.
The disciples of Wuqing Temple were arranged in a clear distinction between seniority and cultivation level, their auras deep and composed.
The pilgrims and herb gatherers stood respectfully on the periphery.
Lu Yuan's gaze swept across the crowd and instantly locked onto the graceful figure standing tall in the center of the lectern.
At that moment, all the surrounding noise, sword energy, and the clanging of metal seemed to disappear from him in an instant.
At the center of the preaching platform, Shen Shulan, dressed in a pure white Taoist robe, stood on the dark platform, like a white lotus blooming in a steel jungle.
She stood tall and straight, not with her hands behind her back like a typical preacher, but with her arms hanging naturally at her sides.
Flickering electric light swirled around his fingertips; it was the overflow of extremely condensed internal energy.
She looked to be about twenty-seven years old, the prime of a woman's life.
Her face was as pure and clear as an ice peak and a snow lotus, her features so exquisite they were almost sharp, as if they were a masterpiece formed from the essence of heaven and earth, without a trace of worldly taint.
Her eyebrows were like distant mountains shrouded in mist, and her eyes were like cold pools filled with stars. Her gaze, as it moved, revealed a coldness and aloofness that seemed to see into people's hearts.
This coldness is not harshness, but an innate purity, like ancient ice.
Her beauty is an aggressive kind of beauty, so beautiful that people dare not look directly at her, so beautiful that people feel awe.
It was as if even a single glance would result in being wounded by that awe-inspiring and inviolable sword aura.
A gentle breeze swept by, but she was not enveloped in any dazzling light, nor was there any celestial music playing.
Only wisps of extremely fine, visible lightning energy danced and moved across the Taoist robe.
These lightning bolts emitted a soft hissing sound, tearing apart the approaching clouds and mist.
She didn't speak, but the disciples standing below the stage seemed to be inspired by something, straightening their spines and feeling their blood surging.
The disciples spontaneously entered a state of "enlightenment".
Immediately, she parted her red lips slightly, her voice clear and cold, devoid of any emotion, yet resounding clearly in everyone's ears, directly striking their souls: "Today, I will teach the seventh form of the 'Supreme Formation Breaking Chapter'—Thunder Shakes the Nine Heavens."
"9
Before she finished speaking, she pointed her fingers like a sword and gently slashed at the void.
"Sizzle—!"
A blinding cyan-purple bolt of lightning appeared out of nowhere!
The entire room was silent; you could hear a pin drop.
And it's obvious who this person is.
Shen Shulan!