Chapter 52: Pilgrims

Xuan Huang hesitated for a long time that night in front of the Library Pavilion. He thought Mr. Chen might need someone to talk to.

But seeing the continued silence from the Library Pavilion, he decided Mr. Chen probably preferred some quiet time alone.

Once he understood, he didn’t delay any longer and returned to his own room.

Just as he expected.

The next morning upon rising, his master sat reading beneath the peach tree, looking like his usual self again.

Chen Changsheng seemed to have forgotten yesterday’s events.

He disliked letting trivial matters ruin his mood.

The world offered many simple joys; there was no need for such things to affect him.

The peaches on the tree, the cicadas in the woods, the well in the temple courtyard, and Huai Xu’s gentle breeze—all these were far superior.

Xuan Huang offered the greeting.

Chen Changsheng looked up and smiled. “Morning.”

Xuan Huang nodded in response, then began his busy day.

In this world, some Mortals pursued immortality, sitting still like dead trees. Others cultivated their hearts, working at sunrise and resting at sunset, relaxed and carefree.

Suddenly, Xuan Huang noticed something different about his master compared to before.

The difference was the increased aura around him. When they first met, Xuan Huang could still tell he was Mortal. But now, one glance made him seem like an Immortal descended from heaven.

Chen Changsheng read all morning.

Then at noon, guests arrived at the temple.

Pilgrims coming up the mountain.

Sensing people below, Chen Changsheng asked, “Pilgrims still climb this mountain?”

“You missed them on your previous visits, sir.”

Xuan Huang explained. “Pilgrims usually only ascend to offer incense on the first or fifteenth day of the lunar month. Your past visits never coincided, so you didn’t encounter them.”

Though Flowing Cloud Temple had few worshippers, the Civic District always had a few pilgrims. Visiting on the first and the fifteenth to offer incense was a longstanding custom for believers.

“Is that so?” Chen Changsheng understood and didn’t give it more thought, lowering his head to continue reading.

Hearing his master’s interest in the pilgrims, Xuan Huang headed towards the temple gates.

No surprise, pilgrims must be ascending.

Master Chen’s words were never false.

Tong Zhihuan walked behind his dad. He had taken this mountain path countless times and knew it well. He remembered that when he was young, there were no stone steps; travel became much easier after they were added.

Tong Caizheng paused to catch his breath and looked back at his son. “Times have changed. Once inside the temple, bow sincerely. No carelessness, understand?”

“Understood, dad,” Tong Zhihuan replied.

Ever since telling his dad about Mr. Chen two days prior, his father had reminded him constantly: to be respectful if he saw the master again, and to visit a temple outside the mountain on the first day of the month.

Tong Caizheng raised his head and saw Daoist Priest Xuan Huang standing at the temple gate, almost as if waiting for them.

Tong Caizheng approached. “Daoist Priest Xuan Huang.”

Tong Zhihuan followed suit, bowing his head. “Greetings, Daoist Priest Xuan Huang.”

Xuan Huang nodded warmly. “Recluse, please follow me inside.”

Tong Caizheng nodded and led Tong Zhihuan into the temple.

Tong Zhihuan’s gaze was drawn to the peach tree planted in the courtyard. He looked sideways.

Seeing the plump, large peaches hanging from the branches, he couldn’t help but swallow.

But as his eyes suddenly shifted downward, he abruptly stopped walking.

Xuan Huang and Tong Caizheng walked ahead.

Tong Caizheng stopped and looked back at his son, frozen behind him. “Zhihuan, why are you standing there?”

He followed his son’s gaze and was suddenly stunned.

There beneath the tree sat a Green-Robed Gentleman, book in hand, reading.

Tong Zhihuan called out, “Mr. Chen…”

Chen Changsheng turned and looked at the father and son. “Go offer your incense first. I’m just reading here. Pay me no mind.”

Tong Zhihuan parted his lips slightly and looked at his dad.

Earlier, Tong Caizheng had heard from his son about this gentleman—likely the Immortal himself.

But so different from last time…

How could this gentleman radiate such a mysteriously profound aura in just a few days?

Tong Caizheng felt flustered. Seeing an Immortal, he didn’t know how to address him. Hesitating briefly, he finally clasped his hands respectfully. “Tong Caizheng, physician from Tongji Hall, greets Mr. Chen.”

Chen Changsheng looked at Tong Caizheng and smiled warmly. “No need for formalities. Go offer your incense.”

Tong Caizheng paused, as if wanting to say more, but seeing the gentleman’s attitude, he closed his mouth. He said to Tong Zhihuan behind him, “Let’s speak with the master after offering incense.”

“Alright.”

The Tong father and son followed Xuan Huang into the temple.

Xuan Huang asked, “You know Mr. Chen?”

Tong Caizheng replied, “My son has met him a few times.”

Xuan Huang glanced at Tong Zhihuan, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Your son is deeply blessed.”

Tong Caizheng’s heart skipped a beat at these words.

“Daoist Priest, you mean…”

“Best not to speak of it.”

Tong Caizheng swallowed, momentarily unable to regain his composure.

It seemed Zhihuan hadn’t exaggerated.

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That gentleman was truly…

The two offered incense and prayers inside the temple. Tong Zhihuan paid especially close attention this time.

In past years, his dad brought him to Flowing Cloud Temple only once annually, always at the start of the year. If not for Mr. Chen, they wouldn’t be here now.

Tong Zhihuan felt happy surprise. He hadn’t imagined meeting Mr. Chen here.

“Daoist Priest, does Mr. Chen stay here often?” Tong Zhihuan asked.

Xuan Huang shook his head. “The master only occasionally stays overnight on the mountain.”

Tong Zhihuan nodded to show he understood, then bowed reverently to the Divine Statue.

Incense smoke drifted, filling the entire temple.

After three bows, Tong Caizheng chatted with Priest Xuan Huang for a while longer. Then father and son went into the courtyard to find Mr. Chen.

Tong Caizheng hesitated slightly but approached the peach tree with his son.

Chen Changsheng closed his book and looked at Tong Caizheng. “Dr. Tong, we met only days ago. Sit.”

Tong Caizheng sat down.

Chen Changsheng then turned to Tong Zhihuan. “You sit too.”

“May I?” Tong Zhihuan sounded uncertain.

Chen Changsheng smiled. “Of course you may.”

Tong Zhihuan, delighted, sat down beside his father.

Tong Caizheng began, “Years ago, my son was young and ignorant. He offended you, Mr. Chen. Thankfully, you were generous and didn’t hold it against him. I thank you for your forgiveness.”

Chen Changsheng answered warmly, “You overstate things, Dr. Tong. I’m easygoing most times. Such small matters never trouble me. But this child… He has remarkable intelligence and holds the Heart of a Child. Such innocence is truly rare.”

Tong Zhihuan felt a little bashful, scratching his head. “Sir, you praise me. I’m not quite as good as you say…”

Chen Changsheng gave a gentle smile. “You and I have a connection.”