劍問蒼天 - 第231章 困惑 - 翰墨軒

Zhou Yixuan nodded. "Just so. You see all men as the same—that is looking from a grand perspective, a lofty realm. It is as the Buddhist teachings of the Fanyin Temple say: all sentient beings are equal—that is the meaning. In truth, by the Buddhist account, not only are you and I and all mankind included; even ants and savage beasts are no different from us." He paused, smiled faintly, and went on: "Only, when it comes to realms—in this human world, how could a single way of seeing ever suffice? You possess great divine powers and mighty strength, so you can find life in desperate straits, can serenely rise above the common herd. Thus it is said that all beings are equal in origin—yet in the finer particulars, they have never been equal."

Ming Li's face showed bewilderment, and he slowly shook his head. "I do not wish to rise above all beings, nor do I have the compassionate heart to ferry all creatures to salvation. Just as, though I cultivate the Dao, I have not the slightest interest in immortality."

Zhou Yixuan said mildly, "Then what is it you want?"

Ming Li gave a bitter smile, his mirth steeped in gall, and said in a low voice, "That is just it. What I want—even I do not know!"

The expressions shifted across his face. The bright moon above was climbing toward the zenith, its radiance more resplendent than ever, pouring down from the sky and stretching his shadow long across the ground.

Zhou Yixuan said nothing, only watched Ming Li quietly. Yet in his gaze and bearing there was now something utterly different from his wont of former days. Though the man standing before him was the only one in the world to have cultivated all four volumes of the Heavenly Book, his Daoist arts already beyond the reckoning of gods and ghosts, the figure Zhou Yixuan cut at this moment seemed somehow far the taller.

His refinement, his composure—the night wind threaded through the white hairs at his temples, and it seemed even the moonlight quietly gathered and pooled upon his side.

But Ming Li noticed nothing amiss. Indeed, Zhou Yixuan merely stood quietly before him, while he himself seemed already sunk deep in his own thoughts.

After a long while, Ming Li smiled faintly and bitterly. "It seems I am indeed a good-for-nothing—I cannot even be clear about why I live, or what it is I want!"

Zhou Yixuan regarded him with a calm expression and the faintest smile at the corner of his mouth. "You are wrong, young man."

Ming Li started. It was the first time he had heard Zhou Yixuan call him a young man. But that was plainly not the point; after a moment of surprise, he said, "Pray instruct me, Senior. You say I am wrong—where is the error?"

Zhou Yixuan said mildly, "You think that because you cannot be clear about this question, you are a good-for-nothing? In my view it is precisely the opposite. That you can even ponder such a question—that is where you far surpass others in this world."

Ming Li was dumbfounded. "What?"

Zhou Yixuan smiled faintly and beckoned. "Come and see."

Ming Li went to Zhou Yixuan's side and looked down where his finger pointed. In He Yin City, beneath the moonlight, those scattered points of lamplight in the quiet twinkled without cease.

Zhou Yixuan gazed at that sea of lights, and something complex seemed to stir in his eyes. After a moment he said quietly, "What do you see?"

Ming Li said, "Those are the lamps in the homes of countless common folk."

Zhou Yixuan nodded. "Quite so—lamplight. Each little light is like a living soul, each one alive in this world, some thriving, some not, but all of them determined to go on living. Only let me tell you: among all these teeming multitudes, who knows how many live merely for the sake of living. One in ten thousand, not even that, frets as you do and reflects on why he lives."

Ming Li was struck speechless. Such a notion had never occurred to him, yet hearing it from Zhou Yixuan's mouth, it seemed to hold great truth, and he could not rebut it.