Chapter 117: The whole internet is abuzz, as we witness the Snake God in history!

Not only Teacher Zhang, but other kids nearby also cast curious glances at the new transfer student.

Although Hu Xiaocao doesn't speak much, her cute appearance makes her very likable; sometimes not only adults judge by looks, but kids do too.

Despite being watched by so many, Hu Xiaocao shows no nervousness; she possesses a maturity beyond her years.

She simply hadn't spoken after a moment, likely organizing her thoughts in her mind.

Teacher Zhang's smile grew gentler: "It's all right, Xiaocao; if you have any different ideas or views, you can share them with everyone."

After a moment, Xiaocao seemed to have gathered her thoughts; she slowly lifted her head. Though a child, she now bore a hint of adult poise, and spoke seriously:

"Teacher, I think the meaning expressed by the story of 'carving a boat to seek a sword' is not rigidity or stubbornness, but remembrance, revisiting the old place."

Teacher Zhang exclaimed, "Oh? How so?"

Hu Xiaocao: "Because what this story teaches is not a warning, but the sentiment of 'carving a boat after the past sword, waving tears for the lost hairpin'!"

Teacher Zhang's mouth fell open in surprise; he stared at Hu Xiaocao, thinking he had misheard, a flicker of disbelief crossing his eyes.

Gazing at the little girl before him, he never expected such profound words, such an obscure poem, to come from a child's mouth.

What books does she usually read!

What is she pondering all the time!

Hu Xiaocao didn't notice the teacher's astonishment and continued: "The moral of this story can also be that what one seeks by carving a boat for a sword isn't necessarily the sword, but one's former self."

Hu Xiaocao tilted her head, thinking a moment: "Well… actually, longing for the past is just carving a boat to seek a sword in time!"

"So how could this be stubbornness and rigidity?"

Hu Xiaocao's eyes shone bright; her words flowed like a clear stream into Teacher Zhang's heart, stirring countless ripples—though innocent and childish, they spoke what adults could not imagine.

By contrast, the other children's dazed incomprehension meant they didn't fully grasp Hu Xiaocao's meaning; they merely felt her words were profound.

There was some inexplicable principle, but its specifics eluded them; if they remembered this memory, they might only suddenly understand it much later.

For them, education only completes its cycle when they grow up.

Teacher Zhang, however, fell into thought.

She suddenly recalled a song's lyric: "I have breathed the wind you breathed, I have walked the path you walked."

Isn't this exactly the present situation?

As Hu Xiaocao said, "carving a boat to seek a sword" is merely revisiting the old place; everyone tries to fish out past things from the river of time, but ends up futile.

This story has been passed down by word of mouth to this day, leaving behind a tale that warns the world, with satire hidden in its humor.

Many idiom stories are like this—meant to warn people—yet who can know what their original intent truly was?

Everyone is a spectator, not a participant, and their ideas are tinged with strong individualism.

And as the parties involved in the story, what was their state of mind back then?

Hu Xiaocao's viewpoint also sparked a new round of heated discussion among the children.

"I feel Xiaocao makes perfect sense—no wonder she's top of the class; before I thought she was just a bookworm nitwit."

"Although Xiaocao's view differs completely from Teacher Zhang's, I don't know why, but I feel hers is a bit better."

Some agreed, naturally there would also be kids who objected.

"What nonsense is this? I think the person seeking the sword is just stupid; we shouldn't act like him."

"What use is all this mystic talk? Clearly Teacher Zhang's is the correct view; don't let yourselves be misled."

"Teacher Zhang never said Xiaocao was wrong; you're being a bit over the top."

Both sides held different views, even on the verge of arguing; the children's quarrel pulled Teacher Zhang's thoughts back to reality.

Teacher Zhang snapped out of it, seeing the crowd flushed and flushed from arguing, and felt a mix of laughter and exasperation.

"Kids, everyone's perspective differs; you can't simply say who's right or wrong."

A child suddenly asked, "Teacher Zhang, do you think Hu Xiaocao is right?"

Teacher Zhang didn't give a casual reply, nor did he shy away due to his status; after serious thought, he nodded sincerely and said:

"I think Xiaocao makes a lot of sense; it gave me great inspiration. Whether it's 'carving a boat to seek a sword' or 'revisiting the old place,' we should respect everyone's ideas."

When Teacher Zhang first saw the story of 'carving a boat to seek a sword,' his view matched that of most people.

He never expected that, years later today, he would hear a different answer from a child's mouth, prompting his deep reflection.

Education has a certain longevity and latency, like a closed loop; after many years, a moment suddenly dawns on you—like a bullet hitting you—that is when education is completed.

Even though Teacher Zhang grew up from a scrawny little girl into the educator she is today, she continues to constantly explore and learn.

As the saying goes, the sea of learning has no bounds.

Teacher Zhang felt deep emotion, looking at Hu Xiaocao's adorable face, he couldn't help but pat her head: "Xiaocao, thank you."

Hu Xiaocao blinked, not quite understanding why Teacher Zhang suddenly said thanks, and she couldn't help but ask: "Teacher Zhang, why are you saying thank you?"

"You'll understand when you're older; I'm very gratified that you have such insight at such a young age."

"Thank you for the praise, Teacher."

"Xiaocao, could you tell me where you learned all this?"

"I like reading books, ancient books; each time I read I gain inspiration, and…" Hu Xiaocao answered, lifting her gaze to the river before her, her expression bewildered: "…and it seems there is a grandfather I know guiding me there."

……

With the sound of chatter fading away, this land fell silent once more; Ye Qin watched the backs of Teacher Zhang and the others, his expression quite moved.

"I never expected to meet here."

He even less expected that the once malnourished little girl had undergone a tremendous change—not only in appearance, but in Hu Xiaocao's perspective.

From those remarks just now one can see a thing or two; it's utterly unlike something someone her age would say.

This experience is Hu Xiaocao's personal ordeal; combined with her insight, no one can replicate it.

After all, while peers are still innocent and carefree, Hu Xiaocao's frail shoulders already bear life's burdens, steering her little boat through wind and rain, wobbling.

What she hopes for in 'carving a boat to seek a sword' is none other than cherishing the time spent with her mother.

How could she not also wish, in the long river of time, to fish out her former carefree self, together with her healthy mother?

Having such an insight, Ye Qin was actually not surprised.

This child indeed has the roots of wisdom.

Unbeknownst to them, the sun had already set westward; the afterglow of the setting sun settled on the water surface, as if countless gems were there, and as the light dimmed, the outlines of the green mountains on both banks kept deepening.

The river spans thousands of years, having endured countless springs and autumns.

The stories that happened by the river are continually brought up by later generations; everyone has their own view, and this view changes with age.

In a daze, Ye Qin saw an old man poling a boat toward him; his voice, weathered by vicissitudes, drifted back and forth among the green mountains and clear waters, as if he were persuading the world.

The rolling Yangtze flows eastward; its waves wash away heroes.

Right and wrong, success and failure—turning one's head, they vanish into emptiness.

The green mountains remain as they ever were; how many times has the sunset turned red?

White-haired fishermen and woodcutters on the riverbank are accustomed to watching the autumn moon and spring breeze.

A jug of rough wine, joy upon meeting.

Countless affairs of ancient and modern times are all relegated to laughter and talk.

It turns out to be a fragment of mottled time from the Warring States period, the 'Marking the Boat to Seek the Sword' episode.

Ye Qin does not know whether his deeds can be transmitted for eternity, remembered by posterity.

He also does not know what attitude later generations would have when discussing his existence, should they become aware of it.

He only needs to know that, even if he were to mark the boat and seek the sword, revisit the old place, the Dao and its laws would still endure eternally, unchanging through ages—that would be enough.

Even if he were the only one on this path.

Right, then did my contemplation just now succeed or not?

Ye Qin contemplated until the final step, only to be pulled back; moreover, this time the object of contemplation was rather special—it was within the mottled time fragment—and he was not sure whether there was any difference from reality.

Ye Qin slightly sensed himself, and it seemed no change had occurred.

The primordial White Bone manifested, and it also appeared no different.

Ye Qin could not help feeling a little disappointed, 'Could it still be a failure?'

Is it because the conditions for contemplation are not met within the mottled time fragment, or because he had already succeeded, only to be suddenly pulled back to reality at the last step, thus interrupting the contemplation process?

Forget it; at worst, contemplating in reality is just the same.

Ye Qin consoled himself; his gaze was suddenly drawn to the Supreme Clarity Temple in the palm of White Bone, and he faintly sensed a hint of weak temporal power.

Logically speaking, the fragments of mottled time are fleeting; they can be regarded as consumables—once activated, they will soon vanish from this spacetime.

Just as before, when he was in Zuo Ci's tomb, after returning to the real world, Ye Qin could no longer sense this power.

This time, he actually felt an almost imperceptible energy fluctuation within the Supreme Clarity Temple; though tiny, it was enough to astonish him greatly.

What is going on?

Ye Qin's mental power permeated the Supreme Clarity Temple, seeking to understand where this change came from.

The miniaturized Supreme Clarity Temple on White Bone's hand cannot be observed with the naked eye, yet it can be sensed with mental power.

Inside, everything is exactly as before, except——

Ye Qin's eyes showed a hint of surprise and doubt, 'When did a water channel appear here?!'

He clearly remembered that this water channel had never existed before.

Now it resembles a silver band winding inside the Daoist temple, not at all jarring, but rather harmoniously perfect; the faint temporal power Ye Qin sensed emanates from the stream.

His original look of surprise has been replaced by joy and excitement.

Could it be that I have succeeded?!

Ye Qin faintly felt a premonition that the channel before him must be greatly related to the river he had previously contemplated; otherwise, how could the stream contain traces of weak temporal power?

But he is not entirely sure, after all, the gap between the channel before him and a river is truly too obvious.

Even now, when Ye Qin closes his eyes, he can still recall the river surging without cease, towering frightful waves, rolling up spray higher than a person—a scene truly shocking to the heart.

By comparison, the gentle trickle seems not worth mentioning.

No matter how one says it, the channel and the river water surely have countless connections.

Ye Qin let his mental power fully permeate it; aside from faintly sensing that bit of temporal power, the channel seems no different from an ordinary one.

Besides that, White Bone and the Daoist temple have detected no other changes.

Ye Qin withdrew all his mental power, saying, 'For now I cannot see what use this channel has, but it surely is not a contemplation object that nourishes the flesh; rather, like the Supreme Clarity Temple, it must have some special function!'

But no matter what, this is a fortune brought forth by contemplating the mottled time fragment; it must certainly be extraordinary, perhaps even beyond the function of the Supreme Clarity Temple!

Later we can continue observing it.

But… why did no Heavenly Tribulation appear this time?

Ye Qin was somewhat surprised; according to past convention, after each realm's contemplation ends perfectly flawless, it thereby invites the threat of calamity, yet this time he felt nothing at all.

Strange; could it be that it is accumulating and brewing?

Ye Qin is uncertain, but he feels that the absence of the Heavenly Tribulation is like missing something; in the end he can only stop thinking and take things step by step.

The river flows endlessly; under the sun's illumination it resembles a dancing silver band, and because the green mountains on both banks are reflected in it, it gains a touch of verdant hue.

When a breeze blows, the tree shadows sway; the shadows in the water also begin to waver, gradually turning into irregular shapes, as if the rings of time were rolling over them.

Ye Qin stared, somewhat dazed; dream or reality? The two have intertwined to the point he can no longer tell them apart—even after a second foray into that mottled time fragment, Ye Qin still does not grasp its principle.

How did it come into being?

What conditions are required?

What is the rule?

Besides comprehending the Dao, what other fortune could it bring oneself?

These he currently has no solution for.

But no matter how you say it, this experience was precious to him, or rather, each opening of the mottled time fragment was a wonderful opportunity.

Being able to converse with the ancients, contact a different world and gain insight, greatly improves his state of mind and even his Cultivation Level.

The only pity is that one cannot bring things there or bring them back; otherwise it would be even more buggy.

"I don't know where the next mottled time fragment will appear."

Ye Qin secretly felt a hint of anticipation in his heart.

Discussing the Dao with Zuoci, he was inspired, followed his heart, his state of mind improved, and ultimately he came to understand the Qi Pill Great Dao; in his discussion with the old man, he realized that aside from all things, only the Dao and Law endure eternally, an unchanging truth, which steadied his Dao heart, and he also contemplated the river's creation.

From this it can be seen that his earlier guess was correct; many places in this world have mottled time fragments, and they are not necessarily limited to famous temples and monasteries—any place with ancient historical relics might retain such fragments.

However, to trigger them still requires a bit of opportunity; not every place has it, and the patterns and reasons behind it remain unclear for now.

"Let's go."

The vicinity had already been thoroughly explored by Ye Qin; staying longer served no purpose, so Ye Qin finally turned back and glanced at the river.

His figure also faded into the evening glow.

……

Meanwhile, the outing had ended.

Teacher Zhang was still at his desk, writing furiously, preparing tomorrow's lesson plan, when he unconsciously recalled what Hu Xiaocao had said earlier that day.

Even now, his feelings remain unsettled.

"Ding-dong—ding-dong"

Her phone kept chiming with message notifications; she picked it up and saw that the backend private messages were overflowing.

It turned out that today she had posted Hu Xiaocao's answer online, merely wanting to share the student's perspective, but she hadn't expected it to go viral.

The views and likes had already exceeded 100,000, and they continued to increase at a terrifying speed, with many people flocking to the comments section to share their feelings.

Teacher Zhang happily opened the comment section.

"【Counter-directional Frog】:" "I haven't read much, don't lie to me—how could an elementary school student say something like this? It must be the blogger making it up."

Seeing this answer, I truly feel moved: clinging to the past is regret, self‑deception is indulgence, forcing oneself to fit is making do, blindly imitating others is following the crowd—actually, the people in those stories have always been me.

If memories are like clinging to the past, then moving forward is like consoling oneself with false hopes?

"【Willows by the Path】:" "Actually, our whole life is just reviewing Huaxia's idioms; if it weren't for rushing, language arts would truly be the most meaningful subject."

"【Evergreen Tree】:" "I only now realize that what's carved there is not a mark but a memory; many people wish to return to a certain moment in memory, to find something, but can only stand by the boat and wander—lost things never return, and you are no longer who you once were."

"【Black Dragon River's First Devotion】:" "People don't teach people, books don't teach people, but experiencing something once makes you understand."

So the saying goes, "I wish to buy osmanthus and share wine"—it's not like the youthful roaming; turns out we can't go back, alas, the truth is simple, yet few understand.

Pai Daxing: "When I was a kid, I really wanted to buy a game console, but I had no money back then. Now that I'm grown up, working and earning money, I went to buy the thing I once wanted, only to find that I no longer have that original desire."

Kai Yun Lou: "At first I didn't understand the meaning within the melody; after listening again, I am already the person inside the tune. How many people once mocked the one who carved a boat seeking a sword, yet years later they do similar things, persistently clinging to the past."

Many people had feelings to share, gained different life insights, and as a result this video even ended up on the hot search list, with quite a few people doubting that these were words a child would say.

Teacher Zhang personally stepped forward to speak, recounting Hu Xiaocao's story, and the audience felt even more moved; many expressed a desire to sponsor Hu Xiaocao, to the point that Hu Xiaocao herself became a little bit famous.

And among these comments, there was a person named Qi Xueqing.

He is a young man who loves researching ancient history; his university major was exactly that related field, and later he combined it with self-media, operating his own Weibo.

The account frequently posts knowledge and popular science related to history and culture, and as a result has accumulated considerable fame.

Upon seeing Teacher Zhang's reply, he was instantly attracted, and together with those comments, he began to develop a strong interest in idiom stories like 'carving a boat to seek a sword'.

One comment said it rightly: over time, the records passed down to posterity are not necessarily all correct, after all, history sometimes records errors.

Perhaps what we see now is not the true history?

Once this thought arose, it was hard to dispel; Qi Xueqing began searching through large amounts of history and related texts, and indeed he managed to find a few clues.

The story first appears in the Lüshi Chunqiu·Chajin; it is usually used with a derogatory meaning, often referring to someone who does not know when to advance or retreat, clings to old ways, and does not know how to handle matters according to changing objective circumstances.

In the Northern Song dynasty, Huang Tingjian's poem 'Remembering the Event of Mooring the Boat on the West River, Following the Rhyme' once contained this line: 'Past events, carving a boat to seek the sunk sword; thinking of the person, waving tears while wearing the lost hairpin.'

Here, the lost hairpin is also a well-known historical allusion, carrying the meaning of cherishing the old and remembering the past.

But the author here places it on par with the story of carving a boat to seek a sword, showing that it is not necessarily as most people think; perhaps there are other interpretations.

If it were only the literal meaning, these idiom stories would not have been transmitted to the present; there must surely be a deeper layer of meaning inside.

Qi Xueqing peeled away the layers, delving deeper, wanting to explore the secrets behind these idiom stories; he felt as if he had opened a dust‑sealed historical door, but then abruptly discovered that something in there seemed off.

The more Qi Xueqing investigated, the more fascinated he became; in the end he posted all the material he had compiled online, sparking numerous reposts and comments.

"The story of carving a boat to seek a sword is real, but the protagonist seems to be an old man who punts a boat."

"In the description of this idiom story, it says there were many passengers on the boat. But when I investigated this history, I found that is not the case; there should have been only two people on the boat: an old man, and another person with whom he experienced this classic story."

"But I examined many documents and found that the person who conversed with the old man is a blank slate—there is not even any record of them, unknown where they came from or where they went, as if they never existed at all."

"The more I investigated, the more my scalp tingled; I continually felt that this history was shrouded in mist…"

For a while, this post was massively reposted; originally it was a literary reflection, but it eventually turned into a curious tale, instantly drawing netizens to join the discussion and together launch an archaeological search, but indeed it was as Qi Xueqing said.

This history and the idiom allusion are recorded in many documents, yet strangely the source cannot be found.

Just like 'unknown where they came from or where they went,' it is shrouded in mist, as if wandering a historical ghost…

(End of chapter)