Chapter 143: To Act with Yang, To Achieve Form with Yin
The middle-aged Daoist was Daoist Chuan, the abbot of Wudang Monastery. He was of average build, his Daoist cultivation not outwardly apparent.
His eyes, however, still held a spark of spirit, although his face was etched with worry and resignation.
Seeing He Guangtao approaching, he smiled wryly, “Guangtao, what brings you here?”
He Guangtao asked, “What are you doing, Senior Brother?”
Daoist Chuan lowered his voice, “We’re leaving Mount Xieluo. We’ll rebuild Wudang Monastery elsewhere.”
He Guangtao said, “Wudang Monastery has been here for generations. Why leave now?”
Daoist Chuan said, “You don’t understand…”
“Everyone understands,” Shi Hao said, approaching, his hands clasped behind his back, “You’re just afraid.”
Daoist Chuan looked over and saw a young man in a blue Daoist robe embroidered with cranes, a sword at his waist, his demeanor radiating confidence.
As he approached, the other Daoists instinctively turned their attention towards him.
His voice, although not loud, carried clearly, its tone sharp and mocking, “You’re afraid of the Hanyang Gang, so you’re running away. You say you’ll rebuild, but the entire world is in chaos. Where will you go?
“You’re just hiding like rats.”
Some of the Daoists lowered their heads, ashamed, while others said angrily, “You don’t understand! The Hanyang Gang is too powerful…”
Shi Hao chuckled, “Indeed, they’re powerful, and you’re weak. Like chickens. It’s best you flee now. But even running is pointless. You might as well just die. In these times, evil lurks everywhere. You can’t hide forever.”
Daoist Chuan’s eyebrows twitched, but he suppressed his anger, “This doesn’t concern you, young man…”
Shi Hao laughed, “Doesn’t concern us?”
He pointed at He Guangtao and looked around, “This brother, learning of Wudang Monastery’s plight, went to great lengths to gather allies, asking us to come to your aid. We rushed here without delay, ready to fight alongside you.
“And now you’re abandoning your home. Fine, you can leave. We’ll stay and defend Wudang Monastery.”
Daoist Chuan was speechless. The other Daoists, looking at them, their faces a mixture of gratitude and renewed determination, their earlier despair replaced by a flicker of hope.
The Guiguzi says, “To act with yang is to nurture virtue; to be still with yin is to achieve form.”
The teachings of Guiguzi were about strategy and diplomacy. “Yang” represented action and aggression, while “yin” represented passivity and resignation.
For those who were aggressive and impulsive, one shouldn’t encourage their recklessness, but rather guide them with reason and morality.
For those who were passive and resigned, however, words were useless. They needed to see action, concrete support.
They had already thought too much, their fears and doubts paralyzing them. Reasoning with them was a waste of time. What they needed was action, tangible proof that they weren’t alone.
Shi Hao walked to the closed main hall, its doors sealed with strips of paper. He kicked the doors open, the paper seals tearing.
The loud crash, echoing through the silent courtyard, startled everyone.
He entered the hall, went to the altar with the statues of the Three Pure Ones, lit some incense, and bowed, “Grandfathers of the Three Pure Ones, don’t worry. Even if they abandon you, we will stay. We will defend Wudang Monastery, its legacy, even if it means our lives.
“The jianghu is a dangerous place, filled with evil, but we will show the world that even in these dark times, righteousness and chivalry still exist.”
His words ignited a spark of courage in the others. “Abbot, we only have one life to live! Let’s fight!” someone shouted. “Indeed! They’re not even from our monastery, yet they’re willing to fight for us. What are we afraid of?”
Inspired by their renewed determination, Daoist Chuan’s despair lifted. He led them to the back hall and asked, “May I ask for your name, young man?”
Shi Hao said, “My name is Shi, also known as Chongyun.”
Daoist Chuan said, “The Hanyang Gang is powerful. They’ve been absorbing many gangs along the upper Hanyang River. They have many experts now. Our small Wudang Monastery is no match for them. What can we do?”
Shi Hao said, “Although the Hanyang Gang is expanding rapidly, their forces are not united. And although the Nine Villages are weaker, if we work together, we can resist them. As long as you’re willing to fight, Abbot, unite those who are also willing to oppose the Hanyang Gang. I’ll go to Mount Nangong and negotiate with the Gong family.
“First, we’ll unite the Wudang Monastery, the Gong family, and Azure Dragon City. Then, we’ll join forces with the other six villages. Together, we’ll adopt a defensive strategy, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Even the Hanyang Gang will have to be cautious.”
To be still with yin is to achieve form. For the disheartened members of Wudang Monastery, words were useless. Action, a display of support, was what they needed.
Daoist Chuan, having no plan of his own, was grateful for Shi Hao’s offer to negotiate with the other factions. He bowed deeply, “Thank you for your assistance. Whether we succeed or not, we will never forget your kindness.”
Shi Hao helped him up, “There’s no need for such formalities, Abbot. The world is in chaos, evil is rampant. Only by working together can we preserve what little peace and order remains and achieve something meaningful. We’re all martial artists. We’re simply doing what we must.”
The Daoists cheered, their spirits lifted.
Hou Bomin, He Guangtao, and the others, witnessing how Shi Hao’s words had rekindled the hope of those who had been ready to abandon their home, were impressed.
The Wudang Monastery disciples unpacked their belongings, cleaned the guest rooms, and settled Shi Hao and his companions in.
Shi Hao asked Daoist Chuan about the Nine Villages of Ba Shan. Although He Guangtao had already told him much, he wanted more details, including their history and traditions.
As a negotiator, he needed to understand his audience, their personalities, and their past.
—”Reflecting on the past to understand the future; reflecting on ancient times to understand the present; reflecting on others to understand oneself.”
Knowing yourself and your enemy guaranteed victory. This principle applied not only to warfare but also to negotiation.
Shi Hao, accompanied by Daoist Chuan, Du Yuejiao, Hou Bomin, and He Guangtao, set out for Mount Nangong.
Shi Hao had initially planned to go alone, but now that he had inspired the Wudang Monastery, how could they let him go alone?
Daoist Chuan, who had been ready to abandon his home, now insisted on accompanying him.
Xu Xiaoyan, however, stayed behind. She found traveling tedious.
Xiang Gu also stayed.
Xu Xiaoyan lay on the grass behind Wudang Monastery, her chin resting on her hand, watching Xiang Gu fiddling with her bottles and jars.
She had attended many Red Hill Gatherings, but this was the first time she had seen Xiang Gu.
Someone as strange as her, Xu Xiaoyan would have remembered.
Either this was Xiang Gu’s first time at the Red Hill Gathering, or they had simply never crossed paths before.
As a girl, seeing the snakes, insects, and other creepy crawlies crawling out of those bottles and jars made Xu Xiaoyan’s skin crawl.
She could almost feel them on her.
But she was also curious.
Most attendees of the Red Hill Gathering were “unorthodox” Daoist cultivators seeking immortal ingredients they couldn’t obtain through legal channels.
Although considered “unorthodox,” some were actually quite righteous, simply unwilling to submit to the Chongxian Sect.
Xiang Gu, being present, must also be a Daoist cultivator practicing internal alchemy.
But Xu Xiaoyan had never seen a Daoist who played with poisonous insects and snakes.
If you brushed aside her messy hair and looked closely at her face, you would see that Xiang Gu wasn’t exactly beautiful, but she wasn’t ugly either.
But for a woman to be so… unkempt was strange. After all, a sixth-rank Daoist cultivator, even an unorthodox one, should be able to afford basic necessities. She couldn’t be a beggar.
Xu Xiaoyan was intrigued.
She had spent much time among the truly unorthodox, not those like the Wudang Monastery and Floating Cloud Monastery, who, although labeled as “unorthodox” by the Chongxian Sect, were still considered righteous in the martial world.
Daoist Tie Yu, the Monkey Thief, and others, were all eccentrics she had met in those circles.
Xiang Gu was clearly eccentric, so Xu Xiaoyan was naturally curious.
She watched as Xiang Gu took out a medicinal pill from her robe.
It was irregularly shaped, suggesting poor alchemy skills.
She placed the pill on the grass, and Xu Xiaoyan watched as the tiny insects and creatures crawled towards it and burrowed inside.
They were incredibly small, even the snakes and scorpions.
The pill, already misshapen, swelled as the creatures entered it.
Then, Xiang Gu picked it up and swallowed it.
Xu Xiaoyan’s eyes widened… She had actually eaten it!
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