Chapter Forty-Six: The Immortal Zhenyuan

In his previous life, Tongtian had read “Journey to the West,” and among all the figures, he admired the Great Immortal Zhenyuan most. In that classic, the rivalry between Buddhism and Daoism rarely offered scenes of harmony. Yet, the events at the Five Village Temple splendidly showcased the lofty, tranquil ideal of Daoism. The Great Immortal Zhenyuan not only demonstrated extraordinary Daoist magic and a spirit of tolerance, but also recognized Sun Wukong’s loyalty and skill, earning great credit for Daoism. This, perhaps, was the reason Tongtian revered him so deeply.

The Five Village Temple itself was a sight to behold—clusters of pine and bamboo, multi-storied pavilions. No wonder even Tongtian couldn’t distinguish whether it was a Daoist temple or a Buddhist monastery.

Seeing Tongtian lost in thought before the temple gates, Ancestor Hongyun addressed him, “We cultivators learn from the heavens above and understand the struggles of all beings below. That is why we establish altars here to teach and guide all living things.” After speaking, Ancestor Hongyun made a respectful gesture toward the distant heavens, expressing honor for the Daoist patriarch, Hongjun.

Indeed, in “Journey to the West,” wasn’t there a saying that monsters with connections were taken away, while those without were slain? Tongtian felt even greater respect for Zhenyuan and Hongyun. In this primordial world where strength reigned supreme, the willingness of Zhenyuan and Hongyun to share their wisdom so generously was a noble act.

At this moment, only the words “Five Village Temple” adorned the gate, with no couplet inscribed. Tongtian surmised that the couplet was bestowed upon Zhenyuan by the heavens after the great war of the gods.

After a while, Ancestor Hongyun and Tongtian entered the immortal residence—the Five Village Temple. Zhenyuan had arrived earlier to make preparations.

“Ha ha, you two seem to be a bit late,” came Zhenyuan’s voice as he stepped out of the main hall to greet Tongtian and his companion.

“Daoist Zhenyuan, you truly are blessed. Such a paradise is what we all long for,” Tongtian exclaimed, hastening forward to greet Zhenyuan.

“Come, come, since Tongtian is here today, none shall leave sober!” Hongyun laughed, looking from Zhenyuan to Tongtian.

Hongyun, ever fond of wine and unusually warm-hearted, was known throughout the primordial world as a “good old man.” He never fussed over matters, but did care about appearances; as long as one admitted fault, he would remain a friend. Such was Ancestor Hongyun.

Soon, the three arrived at the grand hall. Hanging above the central area was a plaque with just two words: “Heaven and Earth.” Tongtian, eager to test Hongyun, asked, “What do these words mean?”

Hearing this, Zhenyuan assumed Tongtian was puzzled, and turned to explain—only to see Tongtian smiling at Hongyun, immediately realizing this was a test for Hongyun.

Hongyun, however, simply shook his head, eyes fixed on the food and drink, paying no mind to Tongtian’s question.

Tongtian, seeing this, wore a wry expression; clearly, Hongyun hadn’t listened. He turned to Zhenyuan instead.

Zhenyuan smiled helplessly and explained, “These words ‘Heaven and Earth’ represent all living beings. For their peace and happiness, I teach my disciples without expecting anything in return.”

Upon hearing this, Tongtian bowed respectfully to Zhenyuan, “You are truly virtuous, my friend. I am ashamed in comparison.”

“Haha, Tongtian, you flatter me. Come, try the pastries and fruit from my temple!” Zhenyuan helped Tongtian up and led him to the table, pouring him a drink.

Hongyun, long craving wine, had restrained himself out of courtesy. Now, hearing these words, he rushed to the food and drink as if liberated. Those unfamiliar with his identity might have taken him for a wandering monk. The two young attendants nearby watched Hongyun’s eating with secret amusement.

“Hongyun is always so uninhibited. Please forgive him,” Zhenyuan explained to Tongtian, feeling awkward about his friend’s behavior before guests. Even so, Zhenyuan defended Hongyun, unwilling to let Tongtian mock him.

“It’s nothing, truly. I can see he is a person of genuine character. Besides, we are all people of passion, so such conduct is hardly surprising,” Tongtian replied. In his previous life, he admired the heroes of “Water Margin,” yearning for the scene of “drinking and feasting from large bowls.” Yet, with few friends and little time, those hopes remained unfulfilled.

Watching Hongyun eat and drink freely, sweat pouring down, Tongtian felt a sense of comfort.

Understanding Tongtian’s sentiments, Zhenyuan stroked his beard and said, “There is a fruit in my temple called ‘Ginseng Fruit.’ Its tree blossoms once every three thousand years, bears fruit after another three thousand, and matures after three more. In nearly ten thousand years, it yields only thirty fruits. Once matured, every nine thousand years, the fruit can grant any living creature who merely smells it a lifespan of three hundred sixty years; eating one allows one to live forty-seven thousand years.”

Zhenyuan noticed no surprise on Tongtian’s face and felt curious, when suddenly a voice said, “This ‘Ginseng Fruit Tree’ is also known as ‘Herbal Elixir,’ and is of immense benefit to the cultivation of all living things. Moreover, its fruit falls when it meets metal, withers when it meets wood, dissolves when it meets water, scorches when it meets fire, and sinks when it meets earth. One must use a metal instrument to pick it, or else it cannot be preserved. Am I correct?”

Tongtian smiled at Zhenyuan, who stared at him in astonishment. Tongtian then pointed to Hongyun, “That fellow told me all this.”

Only now did Zhenyuan realize the truth, smiling wryly. His friend was wonderful in every way, but too generous; such kindness might bring trouble one day, he thought.

Remembering his guests hadn’t yet experienced the “Ginseng Fruit,” Zhenyuan waved his sleeve and dozens of fruits appeared on the table. They sat upright like infants, making Tongtian somewhat reluctant to eat them.

Hongyun, seeing the Ginseng Fruit, grumbled, “Why didn’t you bring them out earlier? I’ve already eaten my fill, but I can still try a few.” Without ceremony, he grabbed several and stuffed them in his mouth, making Tongtian smile.

“By the way, how did you learn of the trouble facing my people?” Tongtian asked Zhenyuan.

“It was the teacher’s arrangement,” Zhenyuan replied, turning to Tongtian.

Tongtian fell into deep contemplation.

Tomorrow is the “end of the world.” May we treat our loved ones kindly. On this day, I hope you call home and let them know you are safe. Thank you from a humble robe.