Translator: Transn Editor: Transn

The old Emperor added, “The phenomenal strength of those who have gone beyond the Exterior is naturally not in question, yet would we consider them to have artistic talent?”

Meng Qi raised an eyebrow and stiffened slightly. He considered for a moment that this might mean that perfect Half-step experts such as Xuanzhen and Aunt Bai might also have attended this Sumptuous Fruits Banquet?

Talent contests, he thought, were mostly something he could manage. If in a moment there was a chance to fight, at worst he might be forced to defend himself, yet he would have more than a good chance. Don’t tell me that the championship winner is going to be old Zhao, the perfect Half-step expert?

Still, let’s not get ahead of ourselves and jinx our karma by thinking about it all too much before the show has even begun. Even with old Zhao not having upgraded himself in a long time, one still cannot overlook the reality that Xuanzhen and Aunt Bai are also very strong talents in this realm and have few weaknesses. In other words, the chances of winning will be very small.

Considering it in this way, it became all the clearer that the 1,500 Karma points that the Dominator of Samsara had offered as a reward on the completion of this mission severely fell short compared its level of difficulty!

Unless it was possible that any battles at the Sumptuous Fruits Banquet was subject to other restrictions or forms of handicap?

Just as Meng Qi was lost in these thoughts, Wang Zai watched “the Unstoppable” Yan Chong walk slowly out onto the floor and guffawed. “The Emperor has once said the most important thing is the absolute refinement of one’s character and the polishing of their emotional state. Unsurprisingly, a regular contest of talents would not be enough. Instead what is required is to see whether their emotional realm can be portrayed likewise within their demonstration. Of course, those with natural abilities here will be at more of an advantage.”

That meant that a person already talented in the musical arts would have an even greater opportunity to display his or her skills compared to a beginner.

Meng Qi calmed himself, subduing his feelings of doubt and concerns for his dignity. He watched Yan Chong approach the edge of the winding river. “I wonder what artistic excellence Yan Chong possesses.”

Meng Qi recalled that Yan Chong was from a less prominent school, a smaller sect. Even with all his adventuring, it was more than likely that he, like Meng Qi, had probably not been tutored in the “four accomplishments”of the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

As he spoke, Prince Jin’s, Zhao Yi’s, servants had already placed a copper stove, teacups, cakes of tea leaves, and such onto a small table they had brought out.

Wang Zai nodded gently. “Mmm, it looks to be the art of tea ceremony.”

Oh, this should be fine! Meng Qi whilst a little taken aback instantly recalled what the old Emperor had just said about the arts not just being limited to the “four accomplishments”. Naturally, it was going to be a contestant’s ability to display their ‘realm’ that decided whether they were victorious in such varied events as these!

Meng Qi felt joy overcome him in the moment as he recalled how he had previously had a fair crack at pretending to be a master of tea ceremony.

Following Yan Chong’s bowing to the old Emperor, he lit the fire to heat the water. His blade then flashed back and forth as he went about breaking up a cake of tea to select its leaves. His fluid and natural movements contained copious saber momentum and were slow and methodical. The audience in witnessing this spectacle naturally found their spirits descending into a tranquil and relaxed state of being.

He waited for the water to go through its initial stages of boiling until the water was steaming just so. Yan Chong’s tea-making abilities were evidently of another order. They were confident and relaxed, with the ability to transport one to a distant place.

Yan Chong’s voice was in fitting with his tea-making atmosphere as he said, “Tea for His Majesty.” The teacup then left his hand, flying off towards the grandstand.

The teacup moved exceedingly stable through the air, with an appropriate velocity that was not too rapid. It was something like one of those wine vessels that floated on the river during that particular Spring festival. Not a drop was spilled from the teacup as it moved through the air, it was certainly sufficient to demonstrate that Yan Chong’s genuine Qi and mastery of his strength had attained a very high degree in his enlightenment of the Apertures. Moreover, the subtle undertones of heaven and earth assisted the movement were also evident to the observer.

Head Eunuch Gao Jinzhong intercepted the teacup and gave it a once-over before handing it to the old Emperor.

Zhao Mingyu took a sip and a smile danced across his face. He gave a slow nod and said, “Good tea and an excellent demonstration of the tea ceremony!”

Wang Zai then added, “Brother Yan’s movements are strong and purposeful and yet when he makes tea he also has a calmness and tranquility about his actions. One senses that his mind and movements have an ease about them that has come about from truly understanding the secrets of the tea ceremony. Through his methodical and precise actions there shines through peaceful happiness and tranquility.”

“Good.” Meng Qi did not know whether he should complement Yan Chong on his tea ceremony abilities or Wang Zai’s concise explanation of it. In any case, he gave up on the idea of making tea. Though he did not believe his portrayal of his inner realm would be any worse than Yan Chong’s, he did not believe that he would be able to measure up under such close!

What should he demonstrate then?

Should he sing to the Emperor? Or should he demonstrate some sword art-like calligraphy?

As he mulled it over in his mind, the floor became silent. It would be hard to know how many people had been previously considering giving it ago now had given up on their idea. They felt like it would be difficult to compare with Yan Chong, and anything that followed might well invite public humiliation and leave behind a bad image with the Emperor. It would be far better to wait for an event where one excelled in before competing.

Aunt Bai, on the other hand, never had any intentions of demonstrating any form of artistic excellence!

Right at that moment, Xuanzhen stepped forward from beside the Crown Prince and requested for some manuscript and a writing instrument. He then clasped his hands together and bowed.

“Calligraphy…” Meng Qi toyed with the teacup in front of him.

Xuanzhen let loose a piece of blank paper and threw it up into the air before following suit to jump after it. Without any thing to lean on, he proceeded to splash ink about on the parchment.

To the observer, this display might seem like a random display of showing off. Yet Xuanzhen was entirely focused on what he was doing. He calmly went about his actions and his strokes appeared on the paper like the blossoming of a lotus flower.

Like Buddha’s descent from heaven, both paper and person came back to earth slowly.

As his feet touched the ground, Xuanzhen’s hand pushed out, flipping the paper over to reveal what was written:

“Because: All phenomena are like a dream, an illusion, a bubble and a shadow. Like dew and lightning flash. Thus, you should meditate upon them.”

Each of these characters had its own style and was written differently. They likewise displayed a full range of possible characteristics, artfully demonstrated, whilst none of which were repeated.

With so many calligraphic styles packed onto one piece of paper it should be chaotic, yet it looked entirely as if it were meant to be like that. One could sense the delicate and meaningful Zen Philosophies coming through.

Each word had its own form and style which was at the same time no form or style. Its Zen was self-evident.

Wang Zai whispered with some emotion, “Ah, a reproduction of the Diamond Sutra inscription from the Shaolin Temple’s Pavilion Halfway up the Mountain. One can see the calmness stemming from Buddhist Monk Xuanzhen’s study of the Teachings of Buddhism.”

Meng Qi had himself admired the very same stele which the divine monk Luohan had made. This calligraphy had a different feel to it. “Whilst it is a little less developed, the Zen Philosophies it holds within it are none too different. Whilst it looks different, it does at the same time prove that the Buddha is everywhere, regardless of outward appearances…”

The same sentence written by two different people allowed the disciples from the aristocratic families that previously could only sense the meaning of Zen Philosophy without being able to understand its roots to find some deeper realization of it.

Wang Zai sighed a moment. “I had originally intended to write something myself, but I am not inclined to pick up a writing instrument now after seeing the Buddhist Monk Xuanzhen’s manuscript.”

And so it was, the segment on calligraphy had been taken by someone else… Meng Qi gave up on the notion of displaying swordsmanship through calligraphy, but he kept his grief and indignation well hidden.

The Emperor praised Xuanzhen, saying, “This Buddhist monk has achieved the Gist of Trueness in the Teaching of Buddhism.”

The Emperor had a cunning shrewdness about him when dealing with monks from the Shaolin Temple, and he did not show any kind of animosity.

Xuanzhen chanted in a low voice, then said slowly, “Everyone has something of Zen Philosophies in them, it is only that for much of the time it is occluded by various artificial imagery, making it all the harder to see the Buddha. Those of us in Buddhism do not insist that the general public converts to Buddhism, yet desire to explore mutually the means to getting past their various difficult predicaments in life.

Everyone frowned slightly, is this to say that the Crown Prince’s way did not entirely exclude those with differing views?

That said, one exchange of views was hardly sufficient to eradicate the rift that existed between the sects and the aristocratic families. Each figurehead of the aristocratic families looked away with blank looks on their faces.

This was despite the fact the sects had, for many years, wished to get someone inside the imperial court. Yet when it came to such a big fish as the Crown Prince, it took only one time to put the palace on alert. The sects had no option but to remove him from their wish list.

To be fair, some years back if it was not for the quisling monk at the Crown Prince’s side who had announced and prostrated his devout beliefs, thereby exposing the intention of building a Buddhist nation, then maybe he might have bought it all.

As for now, hmmph, the conception was in its death throes!

After Xuanzhen walked back to the Crown Prince’s grandstand, those that were willing to take the floor were now even fewer and far between. All eyes turned to the Ruan family, as there was never a better time for the 21st Lady of the family, a beauty of River East, to take the floor.

All of a sudden there came a chuckle. Someone stepped through the air and landed in the center of the floor. It was the Super Purple Sword Cui Zhe.

He smiled as he bowed, in his hand was a purple flute made of jade. He placed the flute at his lips and started to play a mellow and classic sounding melody.

The sound of the flute gradually swung outwards and spread across the waters. It was gloomy and lonely in its cadence. It was like the tide ahead was surging, waves rising and falling. Like one was standing on the bows of a ship floating with the stream on a body of water.

All the eyes could see were the sea and the horizon, there was nothing else in sight. In all this vastness one could not help but be alone on such a boat.

The sound of the flute got lower and lower and the seas calmed, the emotion in it began to build and surge.

Atmosphere, charm and melody all sewn together exquisitely, it moved more than a few people with its sadness.

The river’s flow seemed to slow down, and the lake became tranquil. The birds ceased singing in the forest. All was stillness around them.

The remnants of the tune lingered and twisted through the hearts of the crowd, nobody spoke as they had all entered into the trancelike state-of-mind that the music had evoked in them.

“Tomorrow I’ll Send out a Shallop… It’s fully portrayed and embodied by the flutes far off sounding melody…” Wang Zai gave a sentimental little sigh. “If we consider artistic excellence alone, then Brother Cui’s demonstration has surpassed that of Buddhist Monk Xuanzhen and Brother Yan. Yet the atmosphere, where each of you takes us, makes it very hard to decide between you.”

He looked across at Meng Qi and said, “I would not be inclined to enter the floor and show myself up.”

Meng Qi was about to chime in when he suddenly thought of something else. “Since it’s not limited to the ‘four accomplishments’, I’d like to give it a try.”

Wang Zai was slightly startled. “What do you intend to do? Whistle?”

Meng Qi took a start, feeling a little embarrassed. How did things get so serious when they were so light-hearted just a second ago?

“Brother Wang Zai, you’re too L7!”

Cui Zhe returned to his seat after the Emperor gave his opinion. Then as the crowd turned to Ruan Yushu, another figure entered the floor with rapid intricate movements. In void flight the clothes flapped about which made the figure appear like an immortal.

“Su Ziyuan, what can you demonstrate for us?” The old Emperor was a little taken back. He had obviously not considered that Meng Qi would take the floor.

The names Thunder Blade Furious Monk, Reckless Monk, and Killing Blade were not particularly in keeping with someone who possessed any artistic ability.

Meng Qi remained silent under the surprised onlooking gazes. He went across and picked up a piece of driftwood from the riverbank. He then sat down cross-legged and allowed his palms to form and mimic blades as he went about shaving the surface layers from the wood.

He had thought of the Holy Sword Puppet just a moment ago, he had recalled how Master Lu had gone about carving puppets. The feeling of tranquility one felt watching him, the concentration involved was not something that could be described in words very well.

Carving was also an artistic talent!

Those that learn from me what I have to give shall continue to prosper, but those who just blindly copy what I do will perish.. . Meng Qi soliloquized this sentence. He allowed his mind to be calm as a peaceful lake and allowed his hands to go about his carving unhurriedly.

Today, he was attired in green which when compared to his usual upright and masculine black clothes seemed a little more fitting for what he was doing. Although he was sat on the ground, it did not seem out of place considering, instead his posture was one of being very at ease with the world.

Wang Zai and the onlookers did not know what to think at first. Meng Qi’s carving was nothing extraordinary, nor was there any atmosphere to be felt from its artistic conception. It just came across as livening things up a little.

However, they gradually felt something was a little amiss as they followed the progression of his carving. Their gazes were drawn to Meng Qi’s hand movements. He was so focused and devoted that they found themselves similarly focused and engaged.

This focus allowed one to leave their worldly worries behind. All those that had caused them worry, concern or anguish were all washed away. Their mental and physical states were entirely transfixed by the carving that they felt they were engaged in.

This was not just a feeling that existed in the enlightenment of the Apertures, but one which those of the Half-step or experts of the Exterior also feel, just not to such an extent.

Nobody spoke. There was but the sound of water babbling and that of the nearby birds, making for a restful scene.

His blade-like palms and knife-like fingers were naturally fluid and changed as needed. His devotion and his focus seemed to somehow go about washing clean the audience’s souls.

He stopped after some time, the carving in his hands completed. It felt like the Emperor to look at and had its own unique charm about it.

The audience was calm and relaxed. Smiles emerged on their faces as they gradually understood.

Meng Qi set the puppet flying towards the old Emperor. It moved through the air silently, as if it too was dedicated to something, its journey.

After receiving it he played with the puppet in his hands a while, then he gave another sigh and said, “Those with focus, who are calm and dedicate themselves to Kung Fu truly are truly rewarded for their efforts.”

Meng Qi bowed and returned to where he had been sitting. Wang Zai looked at him for a moment and said cordially, “A moment ago I still thought that an expert of the Exterior with perfect Half-step upgrades every ‘blade’ or ‘stroke’ was what the word ‘focus’ meant.”

Meng Qi smiled and nodded as he openly accepted Wang Zai’s compliments. Whilst he was not in the league of Master Lu, he was however capable of imitating his momentum and the rudimentary steps to a good degree. Then factoring in his “return to one’s original state” standard, it was certainly impressive to behold.

The only problem is that he had never studied carving before himself and did not feel he had carved it all that well at all. It did however have charm and at a push one could say it was lifelike.

The crowd went still, as Ruan Yushu walked slowly down from the grandstand with a long zither in her embrace.