SABA Chapter 77

Jiang Tiao had always wanted to visit the Taoist temple that Huo Shen had funded the construction of. He had missed four years of Huo Shen’s life, and while he couldn’t turn back time and do it over, he was determined to make up for every lost moment. He was always curious about the circumstances under which Huo Shen decided to fund the construction of that temple.

A week before joining the crew, he finally found the time.

The temple was located on a small peak in the western suburbs of Yan City, with an elevation of no more than seven hundred meters. Walking up the bluestone path from the foot of the mountain would take about forty minutes. The foot of the mountain was ordinary, like a suburban park for residents to stroll in, somewhat uninspiring. However, as he rounded the halfway point, the scenery became more vibrant. A clear mountain stream flowed down from higher up, forming a small cascading waterfall, like a silver silk ribbon spread across the mountainsides whose fallen leaves resembled gold.

Although it was a weekday, there were quite a few incense burners. Jiang Tiao and Huo Shen walked side by side on the mountain path, stopping and starting as they went, encountering at least ten groups of people going up and down.

“There are more people coming here for incense than I expected,” Jiang Tiao had checked online before coming. This temple wasn’t very famous, and there weren’t many recommendations or discussions about it on mainstream social sharing platforms.

Huo Shen’s emotions were complex: “Perhaps there are no debts to repay.”

Jiang Tiao was amused by the underlying sense of being ripped off in Huo Shen’s tone.

This temple was where the abbot had persuaded Huo Shen to fully fund its restoration and reconstruction. The temple’s living expenses were not high, and it was sufficient to maintain itself through regular visitors and the cultivation of vegetables on the back mountain. Indeed, there was no need for them to put more effort into promotion and marketing out of necessity.

The autumn mountain scenery was like a mottled scroll painting, with crimson and golden hues splashed across it. A gentle breeze blew, and Huo Shen stopped, letting a gracefully falling ginkgo leaf land on his palm. The fan-shaped ginkgo leaf was pale gold and slightly translucent, with countless veins spreading from the stem to the edges, like theVein of fate.

Warm sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches, scattering like crushed gold onto them. Jiang Tiao’s gaze lingered on Huo Shen’s profile, unwilling to miss any subtle change in his expression. “You didn’t used to believe in ghosts or spirits, did you?”

The breeze carried away the ginkgo leaf that had landed on Huo Shen’s hand. He watched it flutter away like a golden butterfly. “Sometimes I also feel… that human effort has its limits.”

Huo Shen’s tone was very calm, even gentle. However, it felt like a needle piercing Jiang Tiao’s heart.

When the light of science also couldn’t penetrate the dark abyss, someone always had to find another way.

The autumn wind rustled, scattering falling leaves and bringing a chill. Jiang Tiao’s heart suddenly tightened. The countless nights Huo Shen had suffered in darkness, in despair and helplessness, seemed to traverse the four-year gap in time and blow towards him in the cold wind. His throat felt tight, and his fingers unconsciously curled. The next moment, with an almost instinctive impulse, he reached out and took Huo Shen’s hand.

The temperature beneath his fingers was cooler than he had expected. Jiang Tiao’s brow furrowed slightly, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around Huo Shen’s long fingers, wanting to transfer his warmth.

Huo Shen’s fingers twitched slightly. He lowered his gaze to Jiang Tiao’s hand, as if feeling its reality. A moment later, he slowly tightened his grip, firmly holding that warmth in his palm, as if grasping a lost treasure found again. He slightly curved the corners of his eyes, with a subtle reassurance. “It’s all over,” he said softly, but it sounded more like he was speaking to himself. His gaze gently fell on Jiang Tiao’s face, his eyes as tender as a pool of water under a forest moonlit night, always drawing people into its depths. “Fortunately.”

Fortunately, he had returned, fortunately, the efforts of these years had been meaningful…

Jiang Tiao tried to force a smile, but after several attempts, he couldn’t succeed. He always told himself to look forward, but occasionally recalling the past, he couldn’t help but feel a bit resentful. He didn’t know who to blame – the person who had occupied his body and was now nowhere to be found? Or fate?

Huo Shen squeezed Jiang Tiao’s hand reassuringly. A soft smile flickered in his eyes, and he deliberately shifted the topic, injecting a sense of lightness and joy as he recounted his encounter with the Taoist priest Qingwei.

“The first time I met Qingwei was at Baiyun Temple…”

Huo Shen briefly recounted the process of meeting the abbot. In simple terms, the research progress of the scientific research institute he had invested in had hit a bottleneck. He didn’t know who told him about Baiyun Temple in the eastern suburbs of Yun Jing. On a whim, he wanted to go and take a look, and there he met Qingwei, who was visiting a friend. Perhaps his behavior of standing before the statue without paying homage caught his attention, or perhaps it was for other reasons, Qingwei took the initiative to talk to him.

“Before I funded him, he told me, ‘The Great Dao has fifty, and Tianyan has forty-nine. Everything has a sliver of heavenly opportunity. As long as you seize it, nothing cannot be changed.'”

“When I finished funding him and helped him renovate and rebuild his temple, I went to see him again, and he said something about the Dao following nature, and that everything has its own pattern of evolution. Just go with the flow, and all I can do is wait.”

Huo Shen’s expression was complex and speechless. “At that time, I almost wanted to find someone to tear down his temple.”

Jiang Tiao was easily distracted by Huo Shen. He imagined the scene and couldn’t help but smile. He eagerly asked about the aftermath, “Then what happened later?”

Seeing Jiang Tiao’s bright eyes, Huo Shen’s eyes curved slightly, and he stroked Jiang Tiao’s soft hair, his voice imbued with a hint of imperceptible tenderness. “Later… of course, I still couldn’t bring myself to do it…”

Because on the day the new temple was completed, he made one or two wishes to the deities. One was for Jiang Tiao to return; the other was for Jiang Tiao to be safe and well – no matter where he was. Heaven had always been harsh to him, and he feared that if he truly tore down this temple, the latter wish might also be taken back by heaven.

…

The temple was located on the mountaintop. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, as one ascended the winding mountain path shrouded by trees, the sight of the temple’s construction and the curling incense smoke produced a feeling of “sudden enlightenment” and expansive broad-mindedness.

The young Taoist guarding the gate seemed to recognize Huo Shen, as the abbot Qingwei came out to greet them shortly after they entered.

Qingwei was dressed in a green Taoist robe, with his hair tied up high. He was thin yet strong, and his age was indiscernible. The pair of handlebar mustaches above his upper lip twitched when he spoke, making people’s impressions of him swing between “charlatan” and “somewhat capable” – as for why he was considered somewhat capable, it was because Jiang Tiao trusted Huo Shen’s ability to discern people. If he had no talent at all, why would Huo Shen have single-handedly helped him rebuild his temple among so many Taoist priests and temples?

Qingwei’s eyes lit up considerably upon seeing Huo Shen. He strode forward like lightning and stopped in front of Huo Shen, appearing exceptionally pleased. “Oh my! Last night, I observed the stars and saw the heavenly horse speeding past the observatory, so I knew a benefactor would surely visit today. I didn’t expect it to be Chairman Huo gracing my humble abode, truly making my small temple shine!”

Seeing him, Huo Shen remembered his experience of being swindled, and a subtle twitch could be seen in his brows.

“May I ask why Chairman Huo has graced my humble temple?” Qingwei acted as if he hadn’t noticed Huo Shen’s expression. He fist-punched his left palm with his right hand, putting on a show of sudden realization. “Ah! Look at me! Last night, the Right Aid star reflected upon the central courtyard, so it must be that Chairman Huo has received what he sought and his wishes have come true; he must be here to fulfill a vow!”

Jiang Tiao and Huo Shen couldn’t tell if he had truly calculated it by observing the stars or if he had guessed it because they came together.

Qingwei’s smiling eyes narrowed into slits. “May the Heavenly Lord bring infinite blessings! My small temple is currently seeking virtuous patrons to donate funds to recast the Golden Body of the Patriarch. I wonder if Chairman Huo would be interested. His name will surely be inscribed at the very top of the merit tablet.”

Huo Shen: “…”

Jiang Tiao was so amused by Huo Shen’s speechless expression that he was about to tease him, “Can’t you just pick on one sheep and fleece it?” when he saw Qingwei’s smiling gaze directed at him.

Whether it was due to his temperament or his way of speaking, from his appearance, one would think this abbot was just a smooth-talking alchemist. However, his eyes conveyed something entirely different, like a serene ancient tree standing quietly outside the world, profound and distant, filled with compassion, as if able to see through everything.

The teasing words caught in Jiang Tiao’s throat. Qingwei’s eyes were sharp yet gentle, as if they could penetrate the surface and directly reflect the confusion and bewilderment deep within a person’s soul. Jiang Tiao’s heart felt as if it had been struck hard. The smile on his face gradually faded, and with a seriousness he himself was unaware of, he said, “I have a few questions. I wonder if the Taoist priest can help me answer them?”

Qingwei seemed to have anticipated this. He invited Jiang Tiao into a quiet room, where tea had already been prepared. Huo Shen, naturally, was taken by a young Taoist to “fulfill his vow.”

He sat on a rattan chair and pinched his mustache between his thumb and index finger. “The believer has traveled far and wide, enduring many hardships. Their mental fortitude is truly rare. May I ask you to tell me about your journey?”

Jiang Tiao remained silent for a while. He actually didn’t have memories of those four years; he had only been having a continuous dream recently.

“I don’t know if it’s a dream or reality.”

He dreamt that he was trapped in a pitch-black box, and it took him a very long time to break a hole through which he could see outside. He saw “himself” causing Huo Shen immense pain, and he saw himself arbitrarily harming those around him. He was angry and powerless. He tried again and again to regain control of his body, but failed repeatedly. He tried tirelessly, day and night, and didn’t know how long he had tried, until he gradually discovered that he could influence his body to a very slight extent.

But that was limited to trivial matters, such as slightly curling his fingers or choosing whether to step forward with his left or right foot when walking. He tried many times and finally found an opportunity in the chaos at the airport.

He tripped himself and, with the mindset of rather dying himself than letting himself harm others, directly allowed the camera to smash into his head.

Tender green tea leaves unfurled their leaves, floating and sinking in the water. A large, bold character “Dao” written with vigorous strokes hung on the wall of the quiet room, facing the black and white chaotic Taiji diagram symbolizing ceaseless generation on the opposite side.

“The Daoist philosophy emphasizes reciprocity. Unreturned favors create karmic chains,” Qingwei said, putting down his teacup and smiling slightly. “In return, I can answer three questions for you.”

Jiang Tiao thought for a moment. “Where is the person who once occupied my body now?”

Qingwei: “Wherever you were initially, he is there now.”

Jiang Tiao: “And is it possible for him to return, or rather, to occupy my body again?”

Qingwei: “As long as your state of mind is firm enough, you will ultimately only be yourself.”

“Why did I encounter this kind of thing?” Jiang Tiao asked his last question after a long silence. His eyes were almost tinged with resentment. He believed he had never done anything wrong. If karma had a cycle, then why him, and why did he make those around him suffer for so long?

Qingwei quietly looked at Jiang Tiao and smiled slightly, like the wind dispelling mountain mist to reveal the true appearance of rugged green mountains. It was only at this moment that Jiang Tiao saw the hidden celestial demeanor beneath his somewhat comical mustache.

“You stand within the labyrinth of your own destiny and feel that heavenly justice is unfair, that fate is playing tricks on you. But how can you be sure that others caught in their own circumstances do not feel the same way, tossed about by the tides of fate?”

“For example, another ‘protagonist’ in the story, the will of the world prevents him from discovering his own feelings in the early stages of the story. Therefore, even if he likes you, he cannot perceive it, and can only constantly push himself away from what he truly desires.”

Jiang Tiao was silent.

“In fact, everyone is the same. No one is not controlled by the rules of the world. Wages, houses, marriage, childbirth… blindly pursuing the honor and disgrace defined by the secular world, chasing after things that are actually unnecessary. Not knowing why they need them, nor why they strive. Becoming walking corpses under societal discipline, performing a play that even they themselves are confused about on the stage of the mundane world…”

“And you, young friend,” Qingwei said, looking at him with a smile, much like he saw Huo Shen facing the statue back then. Both had a flame in their eyes that refused to yield to fate, no matter how many times. Only those who save themselves can save themselves. Qingwei’s autumn-water-like eyes held a hint of admiration. “You have broken free from that forced script. Even in despair, time and time again, you have not changed your original intention and have chosen to fight against fate. You both refuse to give up.” One battered and bruised in the mortal world, yet grasping for a sliver of hope; the other, his soul imprisoned in a cage, shattering himself to regain his self.

“Therefore, by living out your self-awareness, you have both jumped out of that predetermined track and out of the world’s rules.”

…

The entire sky was dyed orange like molten gold from the setting sun. Huo Shen stood under the ancient ginkgo tree in front of the temple, gazing up at the massive crown. The sunset outlined his calm and deep profile, and golden ginkgo leaves carpeted the ground.

Jiang Tiao saw him from afar. The heavy thoughts from the quiet room, upon seeing Huo Shen’s patient waiting figure, seemed to be coated with a warm, soft glow. The corners of his eyes curved, revealing a gentle smile.

Qingwei’s words echoed in his mind, strangely merging with the steady figure before him. Yes, perhaps the most frightening thing in life is not hardship and adversity, but living in a daze, unable to see clearly what one truly loves and desires.

Huo Shen saw Jiang Tiao’s unconsciously quickened pace, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly. He reached out to catch Jiang Tiao, who was descending the high steps, his eyes as tender as a pool of autumn water. “Finished talking?”

Jiang Tiao’s gaze moved from his chiseled face to a golden ginkgo leaf on his shoulder. He reached out and picked it up, holding the stem and lifting it to catch the light. The warm, soft light of the setting sun haloed the leaf with a golden aura, and the veins were clearly visible on the translucent leaf flesh.

“Yes,” Jiang Tiao tucked the ginkgo leaf into his palm and carefully placed it in Huo Shen’s chest pocket, intending for him to hold it for him until they could press it to dry and make a specimen.

Huo Shen let Jiang Tiao use his pocket as if it were his own. He saw the lightness and relief reflected in Jiang Tiao’s eyes and smiled, his voice softer than the mountain breeze. “Looks like you had a good talk?”

Jiang Tiao’s gaze fell into Huo Shen’s eyes. In those autumn-water-like eyes, he saw himself standing in the afterglow of the sunset. Countless emotions surged in his heart, converging into a boiling heatwave. He opened his arms and hugged Huo Shen amidst the overwhelming gold.

Huo Shen’s heart felt as if it had been struck. He lowered his eyes, his gaze filled with an unresolvable deep affection. He reached out and hugged Jiang Tiao back, embracing the desire of his lifetime.

The ancient tree’s roots were gnarled and intertwined, like coiled dragons. Its massive crown obscured the sky, and the afterglow of the setting sun cast down, the orange and gold colors blending perfectly, gently enveloping the embracing figures.

I love you, and I will always be with you.

Walking together through day and night, until the light of dawn.

…