**Chapter 1: The Path Begins**
The sky was clear, sunlight spilling over lush green meadows. The mountains and fields pulsed with vibrant life, a perfect moment for basking in nature's splendor.
A middle-aged man in a dark blue Taoist robe held a *luopan*, a Taoist compass used for *feng shui*—the art of harmonizing with the environment[1]. A *fuchen*, a fly-whisk symbolizing spiritual authority, hung at his waist. Trailing behind was a simple-hearted boy, his honest face betraying his youth, as they surveyed the land's energies.
The boy, Qingyun, chattered endlessly, spilling his trivial thoughts to his master. The Taoist, offering only occasional curt replies, focused intently on the *luopan*, reading its subtle shifts.
"Master, come on, tell me—do I have some hidden talent for the Dao[2]?" Qingyun blurted, his wide eyes sparkling. His sun-darkened skin, paired with his deep blue robe, gave him a faintly comical look after days of trekking with his master.
Undeterred, Qingyun pressed on with relentless questions, his persistence finally wearing down the Taoist. With a hint of exasperation, the master turned, his eyes faintly hollow, and murmured, "Hidden talent for the Dao? I haven't seen any."
"Huh?" Qingyun froze, caught off guard, but quickly rallied, "Then why did you choose me, Master? Lu Chan next door—she's always praised as clever by the villagers…"
The Taoist took a deep breath, ignoring the question. He stepped aside, bent down, and plucked a blade of grass from the turf. Standing, he asked, "Why do you think I picked this leaf, Qingyun?"
The boy blinked, puzzled. "What's that, Master?"
Sensing Qingyun's confusion, the Taoist sighed and pressed, "Why this blade of grass, and not another?"
Qingyun, half-understanding, glanced at the spot where his master had stood. After a moment's thought, he ventured, "Because you saw something special in it, Master?"
The Taoist tossed the blade aside, brushing the dirt from his hands, and shook his head. "No. It was simply the one at hand."
Qingyun opened his mouth to respond, then froze as realization dawned. Eyes wide, he blurted, "But Master, when you took me as your disciple, Lu Chan was right there too. Was it because she's a girl?"
The Taoist shot him a sidelong glance and, turning away, said lightly, "Fate works in mysterious ways."
Qingyun trailed behind, grappling with his master's cryptic words. The Taoist, now facing away, returned his attention to the *luopan*, seeking answers in its movements.
The compass needle behaved oddly, sometimes swaying with the Taoist's fingers, sometimes snapping back to normal. His expression flickered between puzzlement and contemplation.
"Something's here," he murmured after a long pause, stroking his beard, a glint of approval in his eyes.
Turning, he saw Qingyun still lost in thought. The Taoist stepped forward, patted his disciple's shoulder as he passed, and said, "Let's go."
"Master, didn't you say you wanted to discuss principles with some Buddhist master?" Qingyun asked, bewildered. "Why are we leaving already? We just got to the mountain's base, took a few steps, and now we're done?"
"The Buddhist master isn't meeting this old Taoist today," his master replied without explanation. "When he's ready, we'll meet naturally."
"Brother of the Dao, please stay a moment," a gentle voice called from behind as they turned from the mountain path.
The Taoist kept walking, as if deaf to the call, muttering just loud enough for the distant monk to hear, "If our paths diverge, what difference does meeting or not make?"
Though he seemed to speak to himself, Qingyun gaped at his master's deliberate performance.
The monk, hands pressed together in a gesture of respect, spoke again. "Brother, you climb from afar, while this humble monk seeks the path from below. Though our ways differ, we both aim for the summit. Now that we've met, why not share a few words?"
At this, the Taoist turned, cradling his *fuchen*, and pointed meaningfully skyward. Instead of addressing the monk in his saffron *kasaya*[3], he turned to Qingyun. "Disciple, tell me—if a man no longer wishes to be a man, and a dog no longer wishes to be a dog, what are they?"
Qingyun froze, unsure how to respond. Before he could, the Taoist answered himself, "Why, they become Immortals, of course."
A cryptic smile played on his lips. Without lingering on his disciple, he faced the monk. "Which disciple of the Buddhist master are you?"
"This humble monk ranks sixth. Greetings, Brother of the Dao," the monk replied. Moments ago, his face had been full of compassion, but the Taoist's question seemed to jolt him awake. Still, he answered calmly.
"Fine. Lead this old Taoist to meet your master," the Taoist said, sweeping his *fuchen* over Qingyun to snap him out of his daze. The boy hurried to follow.
The monk guided the pair along a winding path to a stone tablet. Smiling, he said, "A place of silent cicadas—forgive its simplicity, Brother."
Qingyun noticed the tablet had no inscriptions, curiosity stirring within him. He wanted to ask about the "silent cicadas," but his master's soft hum seemed to answer.
The monk, unembarrassed, gave Qingyun a warm smile and led on.
Qingyun nudged his master, eager to question. Without turning, the Taoist gazed at the scenery and mused, "Is it silence like a cicada's hush, sorrow for their fleeting song, or mockery of their lifeless forms?"
The monk stayed silent, bowing toward the peak as they walked.
Qingyun held his questions, memorizing the words for later.
Further on, the monk stepped aside, pointed to a cave, and sat cross-legged.
"Stay here," the Taoist said, pointing beside the monk.
Qingyun obeyed, watching his master enter the cave.
Soon, he couldn't resist asking the meditating monk, "Master, what's your dharma name?"
The monk opened his eyes, smiling kindly, but waved and pointed to his mouth, signaling silence.
Qingyun frowned, thinking, *You spoke to Master!* But the monk pointed to a lone pine on the cliff, his smile deepening.
"Pine…" Qingyun murmured, seeing the tree stand proud. A flicker of excitement crossed the monk's face.
"Master?"
---
Inside, the Taoist faced a gaunt Zen master, his face radiant despite his frail frame.
"You're a sly one, Buddhist master, even tricking your own disciple," the Taoist said with a chuckle, settling cross-legged before him.
"Compared to you, Brother, I'm far behind," the Zen master retorted, his voice identical to the monk outside.
"No more 'Brother.' That tall pine outside—isn't it grown to draw lightning?"
The Zen master stayed silent. The Taoist listened, then laughed. "Your disciple's clever, but too impatient. It fell apart."
The Zen master sighed, "Timing and fate."
The Taoist's smile faded. "Enough of that. Speak plainly—what's your plan? Using me as a scapegoat?"
"Your mind holds countless secrets, Brother, beyond my grasp," the Zen master said evenly. "I seek only peace. Don't make me a pawn. What schemes could I have?"
The Taoist raised an eyebrow, stumped.
"Those Immortals…" he tried.
The Zen master trembled, cutting in, "If you're serious, I'll help once."
The Taoist grinned, sensing weakness. "Once isn't enough."
---
Outside, Qingyun's questions met silence, the monk pointing to the pine with a constant smile.
"Is your dharma name pine-related, Master?" Qingyun guessed, still unclear.
The monk nodded, pointing again.
"What pine? Pine something?" Qingyun pressed.
"Boy, leave Master Lüsong alone—talking to you's no small feat," the Taoist's voice rang from the cave. The monk sighed, looking crestfallen.
"So, Master Lüsong!" Qingyun bowed.
Lüsong returned the cultivator's salute.
The Taoist eyed Lüsong meaningfully. "Don't stray, Lüsong. Trouble's coming—thunder's near. Clinging to luck over the true path breeds flaws, harming your cultivation."
Lüsong bowed deeply, his respect clear, though his acceptance was uncertain. Qingyun glanced at the clear sky, puzzled.
Before he could mutter, the Taoist flicked his *fuchen*. "Down the mountain."
They walked, Qingyun trailing. Unable to hold back, he asked, "Master, the sky's fine—why say it'll change?"
The Taoist, ahead, drawled, "It was, till you showed up."
Qingyun pouted, "You argued in the cave and now blame me."
He recalled the Taoist's red-faced spat with a fortune-teller, blamed on Qingyun's proximity. Exasperated, he thought, *Is being a Taoist really so grand? All for a candied hawthorn.*
"Nonsense," the Taoist said coolly.
"Master, you said Taoists pave humanity's way," Qingyun ventured. "But I heard they seek immortality. Are you…?" His face betrayed his unspoken "wrong."
"Immortality? You've never seen an Immortal—why chase it?" the Taoist snapped.
"Have *you* seen one, Master?" Qingyun gasped, catching the hint.
The Taoist spun, nearly colliding with Qingyun, but pushed him back with his *fuchen*.
Rubbing his chest, Qingyun met the Taoist's grave gaze. "Qingyun, recall my question at the mountain's base?"
Qingyun hesitated, remembering. "You mean…?"
"When a man rejects humanity, a dog rejects doghood—they're Immortals," the Taoist nodded. "So too if a Taoist or monk abandons their path."
Confused, Qingyun frowned. The Taoist explained, "Taoists forge paths for humanity. Immortals? Just mountain-dwellers. Clear?"
Qingyun shook his head.
"Remember: a Taoist on the path holds heaven's secrets. Meet an Immortal, and they'll lure you off, then kill you for your *yinhun*[4]."
Qingyun swallowed, stunned by this grim truth.
"Taoists expand humanity's reach. Immortals lurk, draining souls," the Taoist said sternly.
"But aren't Immortals…?" Qingyun stammered.
"Seeking immortality, as tales claim?" The Taoist sneered. "A trap to draw fools like you to offer your *yinhun*."
Shocked, Qingyun heard the Taoist soften. "Qingyun, know the three Immortals?"
Qingyun shook his head.
"Greater Immortals, from *yinhun*; Middle, from living beings; Lesser, from objects," the Taoist said, pointing to a boulder. "Lesser Immortals, like stones, cultivate eons. Newborn, they're ignorant, chasing instincts—souls are their prize."
He gestured to a valley bird. "Middle Immortals, like creatures, ascend by chance. They're half-sentient, amoral, drawn to souls."
Facing Qingyun, he sighed. "Greater Immortals, from *yinhun*, are human-like, fully aware, but unpredictable. Avoid them—flee."
Thirsty, the Taoist drank from a gourd by a stream.
Qingyun processed this, understanding his master's aversion. "Master, then Taoists and Immortals…?"
"Rivals—enemies who must destroy each other," the Taoist said, sealing the gourd, his voice heavy.
**Footnotes**:
[1] **Feng shui**: A Taoist practice of aligning human activities with environmental energies to promote harmony and fortune.
[2] **Dao**: The fundamental principle of Taoism, often translated as "the Way," representing the natural order of the universe and the path to spiritual enlightenment.
[3] **Kasaya**: The traditional robe worn by Buddhist monks, often saffron or red, symbolizing simplicity and detachment.
[4] **Yinhun**: The spiritual essence or soul in Taoist belief, often targeted by supernatural beings for its potent energy.
原始中文文本
晴朗天氣,暖陽灑在青翠草地,漫山遍野綠色生機,正是風光明媚的好時節.
穿著藏青色道袍的中年人,手上端著羅盤,腰間掛把拂塵,身後跟著一位神態憨厚的少年,似乎正在觀測此地風水.
少年口中念念叨叨,不停和師父訴說自己內心的瑣碎.道士除了偶爾隨口回答兩句,主要還是把注意力放在羅盤上,用心勘測.
「師父,趕快和我說說,我是不是有不為人知的修道潛質?」少年睜著大眼,因為跟隨道士趕路而曬得黝黑的皮膚,配上深藍道袍,讓他看上去有幾分滑稽.
少年又連續追問幾次,鍥而不捨的態度終於打動了道士,他有些不耐煩地轉頭注視少年,眼眸略顯空洞,幽幽地問:「不為人知的修道資質,我怎麼沒看出來?」
「啊?」徒弟被問得一愣,但隨即反應過來,追問道:「那師父是怎麼挑得我?隔壁的路嬋,時常被村裡人誇聰明⋯⋯」
中年道士深吸了口氣,並沒有回答少年,而是自顧自走到一旁,彎腰從草皮上摘了一片草葉下來.然後起身,問少年:「貧道為何折了這片葉?」
少年不解,反問:「師父這是?」
道士看出少年的疑惑,不由得嘆了口氣,又問:「為什麼非得是這株草?」
少年似懂非懂,轉頭看了看道士方才站立的位置,尋思片刻後,回答道:「因為師父看出了那株草的不凡?」
中年道士將草葉隨手丟棄,拍去手上沾染的泥垢,搖搖頭說:「並非如此,只是恰好在手邊罷了.」
少年正要回答,卻豁然想通,傻愣著眼,再次追問道:「可師父收我為徒的時候,路嬋也在一旁,難道因為她是女子?」
道士瞟了少年一眼,轉身時輕飄飄地拋下一句:「緣分,妙不可言.」
少年有些摸不清楚道士的意思,只是跟在道士後方,嘗試理解道士所說的話.回過身背對少年的道士,則是繼續低頭探詢羅盤,想從中找到答案.
羅盤指針的狀態有些奇怪,有時候會隨著道士的手指而偏轉,有時候又會回復正常.道士的表情也在困惑與若有所思之間來回變換.
「有點東西.」半晌後,道士輕撫鬍鬚,眸光中帶著幾絲讚許.
回過身,看見仍然困在思緒裡的徒弟.道士走向前,錯身而過時在徒弟肩膀上拍了拍,然後說:「走了.」
「師父,您不是說要找個佛爺談談道理嗎?怎麼這就要走了?」少年有些摸不著頭腦,怎麼師父到了山腳,在要上山的路上走個幾步,看看羅盤就要走了.
「佛爺今日不見老道士,等佛爺想見,自然就會見面了.」師父卻沒解釋,只是這樣說.
「道兄,且留步.」就在兩人背對山路時,後方卻傳來一道溫和的嗓音.
道士不予理會,像是沒聽見般繼續走,只是在嘴上嘟囔著:「既然道不同,見與不見又有何異?」
雖然看似道士在自言自語,但音量卻恰好能讓遠方的僧侶聽清楚,就連徒弟都傻愣著看他表演.
和尚雙手合十,又說了一句:「道兄從彼方攀登,貧僧由腳下尋徑,雖不同道,卻都是想要上山,如今相遇,何不交流一番?」
道士聽了這句話,這才轉過身,懷抱著拂塵,若有深意的朝天上一指.
他沒有向身穿大黃袈裟的僧侶回話,而是朝少年問了一句:「徒兒啊!你知道人不想當人,狗不想當狗,那他們是什麼嗎?」
被問得一愣,少年不知道該怎麼回答時,老道士又開口了:「那不得成仙了.」
他臉上帶著高深莫測的笑容,沒有繼續和徒弟閒聊,看向僧侶,問了一句:「你是佛爺的第幾弟子?」
「貧僧排行第六,見過道兄.」剛才還滿臉悲憫的僧侶,在道士詢問後,突然全身打了個激靈,像是剛清醒過來,但他還是鎮定地回答了道士的問題.
「行,帶老道上山見見佛爺.」說著,拂塵一把掃過少年,讓徒弟醒悟過來,連忙跟在他身後.
師徒兩人隨著僧侶經過蜿蜒小徑,來到了一塊石碑前.
僧侶笑著指石碑說:「寒蟬之所,讓道兄見笑了.」
少年看見石碑上並無刻字,心下有些好奇,想要詢問哪來的寒蟬說法,卻聽見道士不緊不慢地哼了一聲,表示回答了.
僧侶並沒有露出幾分尷尬神色,而是停頓幾秒後,向少年露出一抹溫和的笑意,然後轉身繼續帶路.
少年輕輕撞了一下師父,想詢問內心的疑惑.道士卻沒有轉頭,而是自顧自地看向路旁風景,隨口說著:「是噤若寒蟬,還是感嘆寒蟬淒切,抑或是在笑那些寒蟬僵鳥?」
僧侶並沒有回答,只是行走間朝山頂行了個禮.
少年也不再多問,只是默默將這些話記住,打算返回山下後,如果想不透再詢問師父.
再度向前走了一段路,僧侶側身停在小徑旁,只是向不遠處的山洞指了指,便盤膝坐在路旁.
「在這待著.」老道士沒有多話,指著僧侶一旁的空位,讓少年別跟著自己.
少年聽話待在原地,目視著師父離去.
過了片刻,他終於忍不住,向身旁盤膝閉目的僧侶詢問:「大師,您的法號是什麼?」
僧侶睜開眼,面上掛著和煦的笑容,非常友好地向少年頷首.不過他卻沒有回答少年的話,而是用手掌向少年揮了揮手,再用手指指了指自己的嘴,示意自己不能說話.
少年正想問,你剛剛不是才和我師父說過話,怎麼現在就和我說你不能說話.卻看見對方又用手指朝崖邊青松指了指,臉上笑意更深.
「松⋯⋯」順著對方手指看去,迎風挺立的青松獨自傲立在懸崖邊上.少年不自禁吐出一個字,眼角餘光卻看見僧侶臉上忍不住浮現一絲激動.
「大師?」
＊＊＊＊＊＊
道士走進山洞後,在洞窟中央坐著一位枯瘦禪師.雖然身軀枯槁,但臉上卻容光煥發,絲毫不顯露半分衰敗之相.
「佛爺不地道啊,連徒弟都坑了.」道士笑著走到他面前,盤膝坐下.
「和道兄相比,那是差遠了.」僧侶開口回敬,竟和洞外引路的僧侶嗓音一模一樣.
「別道兄來道兄去,外面那棵迎客松,你任其長得如此高大,難道不是為了拿來頂雷用?」
禪師閉口不答,道士也豎起耳朵,片刻後方笑出聲,調侃了一句:「你這徒兒還算是有幾分算計,可惜沉不住氣,落空了.」
老和尚也嘆了口氣,只是說了句:「時也,命也.」
道士卻倏地收起臉上笑意,嚴肅開口道:「別時也命也了,說清楚罷,你們幾個想要怎麼處理,難道這回想拿老道頂缸?」
「道兄腹內所藏萬千,非是貧僧所能探究.貧僧只求安居一隅,請道兄切勿將小僧當成那秤桿上的籌碼,如此而已.又能有什麼算計?」老和尚不輕不重地將話頭頂了回來,讓老道士挑了挑眉,有些無處下手.
「那些仙⋯⋯」道士想從別處下手.老禪師聽見這個字,渾身一顫,知曉對方的意圖,忙接過話頭.
「道兄若是真有計較,貧僧賣一次力也無妨.」
道士露出笑容,知道自己打中了對方軟肋,開始摸起底線.他說:「一次可不夠.」
＊＊＊＊＊＊
洞窟外,不管少年怎麼詢問,盤膝而坐的僧侶始終不開口,只是一勁兒指向青松.但他也並未怠慢,臉上始終帶著友善的笑容.
「大師,您的法號和松有關係嗎?」雖然少年有些猜測,卻始終不明白這位僧侶的意思.
僧侶點點頭,又指了指松樹的方向.
「是什麼松?還是松什麼?」少年又問.
「小子,別打擾綠松大師了.和你聊天人家可不輕鬆.」洞口處傳來師父的聲音,引得少年轉頭看去.而盤膝的僧侶卻是嘆了口氣,面色有些沮喪.
「原來是綠松大師,小道這廂有禮了.」少年連忙轉過身,朝和尚行禮.
和尚雙手合十,朝少年回以修行者之間的禮節.
道士這回又看向和尚,若有深意說道:「綠松和尚還是別做他想.這天也快變了,很快就會有雷.總是心存僥倖,不走正途,只會徒增心緒破綻,與修行無益.」
綠松和尚躬身行禮,也不知道究竟有沒有聽進去,但對於道士的恭敬溢於言表.少年抬頭看看天色,卻看得一眼晴空萬里,不由得有些納悶.
正想嘟囔幾句,此時老道士走到少年身旁,拂塵一甩,向他吩咐道:「下山了.」
兩人一前一後在山徑上走著.終於,徒弟還是忍不住,出聲詢問道:「師父,這天色挺好,您怎麼說要變?」
道士走在前方,懶洋洋地回了一句:「本來是挺好,但你來了就不好了.」
少年以為對方又在拿自己尋開心,有些不滿地說:「肯定是師父在洞裡和主人聊得不開心,卻又要栽到我這兒了.」
想起師父曾經和擺攤的算命師爭得面紅耳赤,後來非得說是少年走路離得太近,引得人家靠上來.少年心中一陣無奈,這師父老是推卸責任,當道士真的像對方說的這麼前途無量嗎?只恨自己因為一根糖葫蘆就錯信了.
「別胡說.」道士只是淡淡地開口.
「師父,您說道士是為人族開道之士.但我聽人說道士是為了求仙緣,尋求成仙的機會,您,您是不是⋯⋯」是不是說錯了,這句話不敢吐出嘴,但少年臉上的表情卻已經表露無遺.
「成仙?小子,你又沒看過仙,怎麼會想成仙?」老道士罵道.
「師父,難道你看過?」從對方的話頭裡回過味來,少年驚訝得差點咬到舌頭.
道士霍地轉身,讓埋頭前行的徒弟差點撞了上去.幸好道士早有準備,用拂塵頂著徒弟胸口,將他頂退幾步.
揉了揉被頂得生疼的胸口,少年正想埋怨,卻看見道士有些嚴肅地看著他,開口說:「青雲,還記得為師在山下問過你的問題嗎?」
少年一愣,想起了那個「人不想當人,狗不想當狗」的問題,遲疑地開口:「師父是說?」
「人不想當人,狗不想當狗,祂們就是仙.」道士頷首,又道:「道士如果不想當道士,和尚不想當和尚,那也是仙.」
看見徒弟疑惑不解,道士開始解釋:「貧道說過,道士是為人開闢道路之士.那仙,就是住在山裡的人,這樣能否明白?」
少年搖頭,表示不懂.
「你要記住,道士只要在道上,那麼就佔盡天機.尤其是遇到仙,那些仙會將道士誘離道路,然後殘忍殺害,奪取道士的陰魂.」
少年艱難地吞嚥唾沫,聽著道士說這些與外界謠傳完全不同的內幕.
「道士的存在,是為了替人族開疆擴土.而仙的存在,是蟄伏在山,對人敲骨吸髓.」道士說出這句話時,表情非常嚴厲.
「可,可仙不是都⋯⋯」
「人們傳說,道士尋仙緣?」老道士露出一抹冷笑.然後他說出了殘酷的真相:「那是為了引你們這群楞頭青,主動上山奉上陰魂給仙.」
少年兀自震驚.只見老道士收起嚴厲態度,語氣稍緩地輕喚道:「青雲,你可知仙有三種?」
青雲搖頭,老道士說:「上者,陰魂為仙;中者,活物為仙;下者,死物為仙.」
道士前走幾步,指著山石,說道:「山石成仙者,乃為下仙.多為經年累月的積累而成仙.此類仙初生,懵懂無知,不知善惡,只循本能追求益處.而生魂所蘊,對他們來說,便是最大的益處.」
他又指了指谷間飛鳥,繼續說道:「活物成仙者,乃為中仙.多半為機緣成仙.此類仙初生,已有殘破靈智,但亦不知善惡.生魂所蘊,對他們同樣有極大的吸引力.」
道士轉過身,看向少年,嘆了口氣,繼續說:「最後一類,陰魂成仙者,乃為上仙.此類仙與人已然無異.有完善靈智,卻亦正亦邪,無法捉摸.如若遇之,切莫與其接觸,盡速遠離.」
介紹完三類仙,道士似乎是感到口渴,走道山澗旁,從懷裡掏出葫蘆,拔掉塞口,仰頭灌飲.
青雲花了一點時間,消化完師父的教導後.他終於知道為什麼師父對於尋仙的反應會這麼大,於是又問:「那師父,道士和仙的關係⋯⋯」
「是對手,也是不得不消滅對方的敵人.」道士抹去嘴邊水漬,將葫蘆重新塞起.他這才轉過頭來,鄭重地向少年說道.