N-A-A Chapter 21 The True Fire of Samadhi
Chapter 21 The True Fire of Samadhi
Zhuge Boyi squatted down in front of his son, placing his hands on the boy's thin shoulders.
He probably didn't sleep at all last night; there was a faint dark circle under his eyes, but his expression was very calm, as if he had suppressed all his worries and reluctance.
He didn't say anything long or complicated; he simply removed a bamboo leaf from Zhuge Yun's collar and patted him on the shoulder.
"Go."
Zhuge Yun bit his lip and nodded vigorously.
His eyes were red, but he didn't let the tears fall.
The nine-year-old child turned and walked toward the carriage. After a few steps, he looked back at his father. Zhuge Boyi waved to him, meaning not to dawdle.
He then quickened his pace to the carriage, took out the bluish-white jade pendant from his pocket, looked at it for a moment, and then solemnly hung it on his waist.
Zhuge Yan stepped forward.
"Xiaoyun".
Zhuge Yun turned around. Zhuge Yan handed him the cloth bundle.
"There are some medicines, an old piece of clothing, and a notebook inside. Take a look at the notebook when you have time; it's a quick calculation method I compiled. It's not anything too advanced, but it can save you some effort."
Zhuge Yun looked down at the cloth bag, his fingers tightening their grip on the cloth.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Zhuge Yan spoke first.
"The Three-fold Reversal of Life in the Sanyi Sect is a different path, unlike the Qimen method of our Wuhou Sect."
His tone was flat, as if he were explaining the key points of a cultivation notebook.
"But no matter which path you take, cultivation ultimately boils down to one thing: forging yourself from raw material into a useful tool."
Zhuge Yun looked up at him, her eyelashes fluttering.
Zhuge Yan pressed down on his shoulder, not with much force, his hand only lingering on his shoulder for a moment.
"The path your father chose for you is your own path. Don't compare yourself to anyone else; just walk your own path."
He withdrew his hand, his lips twitched, and the rest of his sentence remained unspoken in his throat—"Go as far as you want, just don't disappear."
Zhuge Yun hugged the cloth bag to his chest and nodded vigorously.
He didn't cry, but the tip of his nose was already red.
Zhuge Yun then turned and got into the carriage, his movements swift and decisive, as if afraid that if he lingered for even a second longer, he would be tempted to turn back.
Zuo Ruotong watched this scene, and only after Zhuge Yun was seated in the carriage did she turn to Zhuge Yan.
"Zhuge Yan".
Zhuge Yan bowed slightly.
"Left Gate Chief."
Zuo Ruotong didn't say anything more about taking on a disciple. He just looked at the eleven-year-old boy with a faint warmth in his eyes.
"Remember the mountain gate of Sanyi Gate."
"I will remember this."
Zuo Ruotong nodded slightly, turned around and boarded the carriage.
His movements were slow, but each step was steady and deliberate. His moon-white Taoist robe fluttered slightly in the morning breeze, then fell quietly as he bent down to enter the chamber.
Lu Jin was the last to board the train. He walked to the side of the carriage, put one foot on the pedal, then pulled it back and glanced back at Zhuge Yan.
"Senior Brother Zhuge..."
He suddenly chuckled.
"I won't give you the money for last night's fortune telling. I'll treat you to dinner next time we meet."
Zhuge Yan was speechless. He had never really thought about money for divination.
The carriage curtain fell, the Taoist priest driving the carriage lightly shook the reins, the horse snorted, its hooves stepped onto the bluestone slabs, and it slowly drove away along the bamboo forest path.
The wheels rolled over the gravel, making a steady creaking sound that gradually faded into the morning mist.
Zhuge Yun leaned half his head out of the rear window of the carriage and waved towards the mountain gate.
The people outside the mountain gate stood quietly for a while.
Zhuge Boyi was the last to turn around.
He stood on the bluestone steps outside the mountain gate, gazing at the direction the carriage had disappeared for a long time.
Zhuge Duan walked to his side, said nothing, and simply patted him on the shoulder.
Finally, the two brothers walked back to the mountain gate side by side.
-----------------
one year later.
The peach trees on the back hill are in bloom again.
The flowers bloomed a few days later than usual this year, but they were in exceptionally high bloom.
After Zuo Ruotong left, Zhuge Yan's life returned to its former tranquility.
He stood in the open space in the middle of the peach grove, shirtless.
Nine golden swords were stuck in the mud in front of him, arranged in a nine-square grid.
The golden light on the sword remained condensed and did not dissipate, even more subdued than a year ago.
The gold is no longer the bright, gleaming gold, but a deeper, almost bronze-like color.
At twelve years old, Zhuge Yan had grown half an inch taller than last year. The muscle lines on his shoulders and back were no longer as sharply defined as if carved by a knife and axe, but had become more restrained and delicate.
He took a half step forward with his right foot, lowered his waist, and his right shoulder collided with the spine of the sword at the Tianpeng Star position.
The dull thud of metal clashing echoed through the peach grove, and the sword trembled violently.
Without pausing, he turned and walked toward the second handle. The third handle. The fourth handle.
When he struck the Tianzhu star position, the sword, which also belonged to the metal element, left a half-inch-long gash on his shoulder, from which beads of blood seeped out.
He glanced down at it, ignored it, and continued walking to the eighth sword.
After crashing nine times, the job is done.
Nine golden streaks of light flew back to the palm from nine directions.
He picked up his outer robe, which was draped over a peach branch, put it on, sat down on a rock by the peach grove, and opened the food box.
Fifteen steamed buns and a dish of pickled vegetables.
The food box was delivered by the head chef through the kitchen servants, while the hemostatic powder was personally delivered by my father, Zhuge Duan, a few days ago.
He started eating, but another thing was on his mind.
Some time ago, when his father, Zhuge Duan, brought him some hemostatic powder, he mentioned something about the ultimate legacy left by their ancestor, the Han Dynasty Prime Minister Zhuge Liang—the Samadhi True Fire.
After finishing the last steamed bun and drinking the water from the bamboo tube, Zhuge Yan got up and walked towards his ancestral home.
Today, my father arranged to meet him in the study at Chenshi (7-9 AM).
Zhuge Duan's study is located at the deepest part of the ancestral home.
The courtyard is small, paved with blue bricks, and a few old plum trees are planted in the corner.
When Zhuge Yan pushed open the courtyard gate, Zhuge Duan was standing at the door of the study waiting for him.
"Father."
"Come in."
The study is tidier than it was a year ago.
Zhuge Duan sat down in the old wooden chair under the window and gestured for Zhuge Yan to sit in the other one.
The father and son stood face to face, an arm's length apart.
"She's twelve years old."
When Zhuge Duan spoke, his tone was not as calm as when he usually dealt with clan affairs; instead, it carried a faint air of solemnity.
"I have witnessed your progress over the past few years. You have mastered all four realms of Heaven, Earth, Man, and God. Among the younger generation of the Wuhou School, you have reached the pinnacle."
He paused.
"But the legacy of the Wuhou School is not limited to esoteric arts. I called you here today because there is something I should give you."
Zhuge Yan raised his eyes.
Zhuge Duan looked at him: "Samadhi True Fire."
Zhuge Yan remained silent, waiting for his father to continue.
"Disciples of the Wuhou School learn everything from the moment they enter the sect: fist and foot techniques, esoteric arts, and divine strategies."
Outsiders think we've learned a lot of things haphazardly, and we're not good at anything.
Zhuge Duan speaks at a slow pace.
"But what they didn't know was that all of this was just preparation for the Samadhi True Fire."
Not everyone can reach this point. In the Zhuge family for nearly a hundred years, no one has ever truly mastered it.
Your grandfather didn't have it, and neither did I.