Chapter 116: Carving a Boat to Seek a Sword, Borrowing the Ancient to Pass on the Dao (Second Update)

The sword wasn't actually lost; isn't it stuck right in your heart?

As the old man's words fell, Ye Qin felt his heart twitch slightly, as if something had truly struck straight upward, hitting his heart.

Pain pierced his heart.

It was as if it touched some memories he did not wish to recall.

Ye Qin stood frozen, repeatedly chewing over those words.

Although some things have passed and cannot be retrieved, they left a vivid stroke in memory.

It is just like the saying: "Wanting to buy osmanthus with wine, yet it is nothing like a youth's wandering."

In the long river of time, how many people return again and again to a certain point, seeking what they have lost, but can only pace by the boat's side.

What is lost will never return, because you are no longer the person you once were.

The sword was actually lost, yet it wasn't.

Because, revisiting the old place, everything lies only in the heart.

……

Unbeknownst, the sky grew late; the evening sun pulled out a faint glow, water and sky continually met and blended, and far off the setting sun looked as if it were about to sink into the river.

Several golden waves surged, sparkling light reappearing within, like countless golden great fish leaping continuously, chasing the setting sun, yet never catching up to the fleeting time.

Soon the waves returned to calm, the sunset sank westward, casting upon the green hills on both banks, their reflections producing one deep shadow after another on the water, the outlines of the mountains gradually becoming somewhat indistinct.

Ye Qin stared blankly, lost in thought, until the old man's voice pulled his thoughts back to reality.

You say, what in this world is eternally enduring?

The old man asked the same question again; this time Ye Qin faintly had an answer in his heart, and it was completely different from before.

Looking over five thousand years of civilization's history, from each dynasty's rise to fall, life from beginning to extinction, these are continual changes; the prosperity and decline of things follow a certain law, as if nothing is eternally unchanging.

But law is law, the Dao is the Dao.

Laozi said: "The Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two; Two gives birth to Three."

The Dao that gives rise to all things has never changed, and the Dao itself transcends the universe, eternally enduring.

No matter what stage of life, or how it appears, it does not affect the fact that the Dao stands independently and unchanging.

Take himself as an example: even if Ye Qin's lifespan is ending and he walks toward death, the Dao will not be worn away by his demise.

Even if everything else is gone, the Dao still endures.

This is the great Dao that Ye Qin pursues, from the start until now, continually exploring and advancing the "Dao"!

All things may cease to exist, but the Dao remains eternal in the heart!

The sword may be lost or replaced, but as long as the heart does not change, it will forever be lodged in your heart!

Ye Qin's scattered pupils became firm again: "The Dao is not in the water, but in my heart."

He seemed to be speaking to the old man, yet also to himself.

Although on this path only Ye Qin explores alone, like a blind man crossing a river, a blind man feeling an elephant, it is full of the unknown and the intangible.

But the great Dao is not lonely!

"Even if I am now submerged in the river of history, revisiting the old place, all external things, even my body and soul, may pass away, but the Dao in my heart will never perish!"

When Ye Qin spoke these words again, his emotions were already somewhat unsettled, myriad feelings surging in his heart, just as when he first tasted the old man's cup of wine.

Sour, sweet, bitter, spicy—all kinds of flavors surged in his heart; he had not felt this way for a long time.

The eternally enduring thing in the world is the "Dao".

The Dao endures, eternally unchanging.

At this moment, Ye Qin's resolve toward the Dao is strengthened; thereafter, no matter how great the obstacle, it could not destroy the person he is today.

It appears that what the old man dropped into the water was a sword, but what is fished out could not be anything but the "Dao".

Seeing Ye Qin's great enlightenment, the old man clapped and laughed without cease, "Exactly so."

He was like a wise teacher who gently guides, not revealing the answer at the outset but letting Ye Qin discover it himself.

Ye Qin's expression showed some understanding, "Thank you."

The old man waved his hand indifferently, "Why thank me? I am merely an ordinary ferryman, just having carried you for a leg of the journey."

"Now the wind has ceased, the rain has stopped, and the boat has come ashore."

Ye Qin understood the old man's implied meaning and continued with his words, "It is also the time for me to disembark."

When the old man first greeted him to escape the rain, that was the beginning of affinity; now that the rain has stopped, it means the affinity has ended.

The old man watched Ye Qin disembark, picked up the remaining single bamboo pole, gently pushed off, and the small boat creaked, swaying as it drifted toward the distance.

The sunset sank westward, the lingering sun like blood,

The small boat, in Ye Qin's sight, gradually became a tiny black dot, just as when he came, following the last few strands of evening glow, slowly merging into the river.

From afar came the old man's stirring, heartfelt song.

The rolling Yangtze River flows eastward, its waves washing away heroes.

Right and wrong, success and failure—turning the head, all is empty.

The green mountains remain as they ever were, the evening sun reddening time and again.

White-haired fishermen and woodcutters on the riverbanks, accustomed to watching autumn moons and spring breezes.

A jug of coarse wine, joy in meeting.

How many events of ancient and modern times are all consigned to laughter and talk.

……

The sound grew ever more distant, until it finally vanished.

Ye Qin stared blankly; a huge wave crashed upon him, revealing the vast white waves of the great river, like salt being fried over piled snow, and the afterglow of the setting sun shed yet another light.

Not far off, layered peaks overlapped, the river water like a mirror, green hills floating on the water, reflecting rough outlines, while that sliver of remaining sun was slowly sinking onto the cliffs of the green hills.

Ye Qin watched the rolling river flow, as if seeing the long river of history surging without regret, five thousand years of time slowly passing, faintly hearing a sigh from within.

It seemed as if ancient people were constantly rummaging in the river of history, seeking the eternal value of life.

After undergoing worldly reincarnation, we will possess much and also lose much; a person's life is constant possession or loss, and in the end all returns to dust, earth to earth.

But there is also something that exists eternally.

The Dao and its laws are unchanging from ancient times, like a sharp sword planted in the heart—this is what Ye Qin earnestly seeks.

Waves surge and flow; the vast river waters never cease, letting the river wash away worldly affairs, turning into a mighty current.

The wheel of time shows no mercy and does not shift by human will; the departed are thus, and no one can hold back time's steps.

Some go with the flow, drifting naturally; others look back and linger in the past, but whatever the case, one must look forward, for time moves forward, not backward.

Ye Qin gazed at the endless surging river of time, and within it, some eternal presence would always settle.

"Human life is limited, the river never ceases, the Dao and its laws endure forever."

At this moment Ye Qin gained insight; the river before him surged without end, linking past and future, their shadows gradually overlapping.

He suddenly came up with a bold idea.

"If one contemplates this river, what effect would it produce?"

Illusion and reality intertwined, the Daoist temple serving as a medium, mobilizing the mottled power of the ages; in fact, to this day Ye Qin still hasn't figured out whether this is merely a fragment of time's tapestry or if he himself has taken part in it.

Is he a passerby or a spectator?

Ye Qin had no way to investigate this question; even after his second spiritual wandering, he could not penetrate its subtle power.

But thinking about it, that makes sense—after all, dealing with the power of time is indeed a special existence; if it were so easy to fathom, one could upend time itself at will.

It seemed as if sensing his master's intent, the Qi Pill within Ye Qin's body slowly turned, releasing a few strands of heaven and earth's qi; soon wisps of white mist rose from his body.

It stretched continuously toward the riverbank, merging into the green mountains and clear waters.

Unbeknownst to him, the essence of white bone emerged, and his profound, far-reaching gaze also fell upon the myriad miles of mountain ranges.

One serpent, one bone, silent and wordless, gazed into the distance.

Contemplate the river!

The river tide gradually calmed, no longer raising ripples, as if afraid to disturb something; occasionally it rolled up a few fallen blossoms, drifting toward Ye Qin and the white bone with a hint of intimacy.

Around, water mist gathered and deepened, the outlines of the green mountains blurred, as if only this surging river remained, frozen in Ye Qin's sight.

"Who—"

Ye Qin settled his mind and quieted his breath, feeling the information transmitted from the river; each surge was its breath.

The sound of flowing water never ceased, yet his mind was unprecedentedly calm; it seemed as if his whole self had sunk into the river, drifting with the waves toward the distance.

The mist above the river grew ever thicker, covering the surface, even obscuring the original clear water, encircling the white bone, and then all of it was absorbed by the Supreme Clarity Temple.

The eaves of the Supreme Clarity Temple resting in his palm condensed into countless tiny droplets, as if stained with fine mist; the dilapidated Daoist temple gained an indescribable quality.

However, the Supreme Clarity Temple itself was merely a miniature, so those droplets and mist were even smaller, impossible to catch with the naked eye.

Ye Qin's heart gradually became still as an ancient well; no matter how the river flowed, time seemed to have frozen at this moment, turning into an eternal picture.

The river tide again grew turbulent, rolling up countless snowflakes like a shattering silver bottle, water and slurry pouring forth, continually cleansing the white bone; each bone was entwined with misty qi, appearing supremely holy.

Even the dark green serpent scales on Ye Qin's body exuded tiny droplets, like pearls of jade on emerald, exquisitely beautiful, yet he remained utterly still, like a stone statue.

Countless streams converged together, appearing ordinary, but in Ye Qin's eyes, whether the river's course or the shape of its waves, they were extraordinarily special.

"Hum—"

Faint bell tones rang again, as if dust‑sealed history pushed open a door, rolling up countless ages of dust, drifting slowly toward Ye Qin.

That sensation of weightlessness surged again, as if someone were continually tugging at his soul.

"Could it be that I must leave?"

But Ye Qin had not yet finished his contemplation; if only he could be given a little more time.

Yet no one can withstand the power of time; this is merely a mottled fragment, and it will not change because of Ye Qin's thoughts.

The sun set westward, the surrounding scenery grew more blurred, as if the afterglow of the setting sun sank entirely into the river, raising faint ripples.

Ye Qin gathered his mind inward, striving not to be affected by surrounding things, focusing his attention on contemplating the river before him.

Yet the river's flow speed seemed to be vibrated by a pair of invisible hands, growing ever faster, until in the air it traced afterimages, too swift for the naked eye to capture.

"Boom!"

Only see the torrent of time's flood wave crashing toward him; Ye Qin's heart startled, he snapped his eyes open.

At this moment the sun was just right; there was no trace of the afterglow of the setting sun from before.

The water surface shimmered with rippling light, everything looked calm, yet no longer would a lone skiff appear, nor an old man on a black‑covered boat.

The green mountains on both banks remained as before, appearing unchanged, yet upon closer inspection there was still a great difference.

In the distance, a group of people was slowly approaching this way.

The leader seemed to be a teacher, smiling warmly, very affable, still holding a sign that read 'Class 73'.

Behind followed a group of children in light‑blue uniforms and small yellow hats, yet they were students on an outing.

Those youthful faces still had baby fat, filled with innocent color, like the rising sun, gazing at the world with curious eyes.

Compared to others' excited expressions, the little girl at the back of the line had her head lowered, looking preoccupied.

"What a strange feeling… why do I feel that Mountain God Grandfather has arrived?"

She looked blankly at the distant river surface, feeling that there should be a small boat there, yet seeing nothing.

"Don't run around, everyone—there's water nearby, deep and dangerous, so keep a safe distance and don't stray from the teacher's sight."

The teacher's voice came, carefully reminding the students to pay attention to safety.

Those students were also obedient, listening attentively.

We are about to arrive at Waiting King Village; according to legend, the earliest people to come to this village were the tomb guardians of Chu State, and that is also how the village got its name; moreover, this village is also related to another historical story—do you all want to know?

Want!

The students said in unison.

Then the students should first rest where they are, then take out their language textbooks and turn to page five.

As the teacher's words fell, the sound of pages turning rang out where they stood, and with the breeze it seemed to ripple the river water like 'splash splash'.

The students curiously looked at the fifth page of the textbook, only to see such a short classical Chinese story:

《Marking the Boat to Seek the Sword》

【A man of Chu was crossing the river; his sword fell from the boat into the water. He immediately carved a mark on the boat, saying, 'This is where my sword fell from.' When the boat stopped, he went down into the water from the mark to search for it. The boat had already moved on, but the sword did not; seeking the sword in this way—is it not bewildering?】

……

The students naturally couldn't understand this classical Chinese, so soon a childish voice came from inside the little yellow hat: 'Teacher, what does "marking the boat to seek the sword" mean?'

Seeing the children's bewildered expressions, the teacher smiled and explained:

In ancient times, a person from Chu was crossing the river by boat. When the boat reached the middle of the river, the Chu person accidentally dropped the treasure sword he was carrying; he hastily reached out to grab it, but it was too late—the treasure sword had already fallen into the river. Those on board felt great regret.

But that Chu person seemed assured, immediately pulling out a small knife, carving a mark on the gunwale, and saying to everyone, 'This is where the treasure sword fell into the water, so I will carve a mark.'

Everyone didn't understand why he did that, and they stopped asking him.

After the boat reached the shore, that Chu person immediately dove into the water at the spot on the boat where he had carved the mark, to retrieve the fallen treasure sword. The Chu person searched for a long time but never saw any trace of the sword. He felt strange, muttering to himself, 'Wasn't my treasure sword just dropped from here? I even carved a mark here—why can't I find it now?'

Hearing him say that, those people burst out laughing, saying, 'The boat kept moving forward, while your treasure sword sank to the riverbed and won't move with the boat—how could you possibly find your sword?'

Alright, this is the story of 'Marking the Boat to Seek the Sword,' and this story took place right before everyone's eyes in this Daiwang Village; this is the origin of the story.

The teacher's vivid and lively explanation, accompanied by lifelike gestures, quickly let the children understand the meaning, and they burst out laughing.

'Teacher Zhang is really stupid, huh—the boat keeps moving forward, and dropped things don't move with the boat, how could you possibly find it?'

'Yeah, Teacher Zhang, he's also a bit stupid—it feels like even Xiao Pang, who ranked last in this exam, is smarter than him.'

The person called out was a somewhat chubby male student, fleshy and round; when he walked, it seemed as if the flesh on his body trembled, so everyone gave him the nickname Xiao Pang.

Xiao Pang, hearing this, couldn't help but retort, 'What's wrong with ranking last? I just didn't perform well this time; maybe next time I could even place first!'

The children chattered noisily, the scene instantly became as lively as a market; Teacher Zhang looked on with a kind smile and didn't stop their discussion.

'If I were that person, I would immediately jump down and fish the thing out.'

'If it's dropped, it's dropped—what's the point of fishing it out? At worst, just buy a new one.'

'If it were something valuable, I'd go fish it out; if it's not worth anything, just forget it.'

The children voiced their opinions one after another; their childish talk might seem funny to adults, but it's their own thoughts.

Seeing that their discussion was about to wind down, Teacher Zhang then spoke, 'Students, please quiet down; in this story, we are told a very important principle.'

Upon hearing Teacher Zhang's words, the previously noisy line instantly fell silent.

'The sword-seeker mistakenly believed that since the sword fell from a certain place, he should search there; his understanding does not match objective reality, so naturally the result is only failure.'

'So if our thoughts don't conform to objective reality, we won't succeed in what we do; moreover, objective reality is constantly developing and changing. If we treat old rules as a magic solution for new problems, we'll invite many jokes.'

The children listened, half-understanding.

'Teacher Zhang, I understand: in short, we cannot be like that sword-seeker, foolishly using only one method for everything and refusing others' advice.'

Many children also chimed in agreement, expressing their views: 'That person is really stupid.'

'Actually, it's not like that.'

But at that moment, someone in the line suddenly spoke up; though the voice was small and childish, it was very firm, standing out clearly among the chorus of agreeing children.

'I feel that the story of marking the boat to seek the sword should not be understood this way.'

Hearing a different voice, Teacher Zhang was slightly surprised; his gaze fell to the end of the line, and he instantly showed a gentle smile.

The child at the end of the line is a little girl who recently transferred here; she looks quiet and cute, and compared to the childishness of her peers her age, she has a special feeling about her.

Although she doesn't like to talk and seems a bit unsociable, she is very quiet, never initiates trouble; clearly she is a little child, but at times she looks like an adult—mature and sensible.

After learning about her background and family situation, Teacher Zhang felt even more pity and affection for her.

Moreover, she is very eager to learn, but oddly, she enjoys asking questions about classical Chinese knowledge, which is clearly not something children her age usually like.

But perhaps this is talent, so Teacher Zhang pays close attention to her, after all also needing to help the new student integrate into the group as soon as possible.

Teacher Zhang asked softly, 'Xiao Cao, do you have any different thoughts?'

(End of chapter)