Chapter 71: Mists upon Mists

“Master, do you also have another name called Shou Ping?” I truly could not figure out who this was, so I assumed my master had tricked me and that he originally had a nickname called Shou Ping.

“You little kid, if you do not understand, do not talk nonsense. This is a painting your grandmaster obtained when he was young. The painter is Yun Shouping, a man from the late Ming to early Qing period. His lotus paintings are extremely fine. He does not outline the bones first, but directly renders with ink washes, yet it still has remarkable spirit. He was truly a master of mogu painting. Your grandmaster loved fine calligraphy and paintings and helped many refined scholars. He never coveted gold or silver, and often sought out calligraphy and paintings in exchange. Of course, if they refused, he did not force them either.”

Old Man Jiang carefully lifted the painting and examined it closely, muttering an explanation to me.

I still felt something was off, but I could not explain it clearly, so I instinctively asked, “Were there people who did not give them?”

“Most of them would give,” he said. “Your grandmaster did not collect calligraphy and paintings for money. He truly only appreciated them. He often said that many people in their lifetime never even came into contact with Daoist metaphysical arts, yet within calligraphy and painting there is a kind of Dao resonance. He truly was a great master. Your master here also followed your grandmaster and came to love calligraphy and paintings. Over the years, I was fortunate enough to obtain some works.”

That last sentence struck me like a bolt of lightning. I finally realized what felt wrong.

My master said he had obtained some calligraphy and paintings over the years, which must mean they were works from painters of his own era. Yet my grandmaster had obtained Yun Shouping’s paintings. My master had just said Yun Shouping was from the late Ming and early Qing period. But my master only met my grandmaster in 1922. Then my grandmaster...

My heart began pounding loudly.

This was even more bizarre than seeing a ghost. My mouth suddenly felt dry. Who said children lack intelligence? It is just that they have not encountered something that forces their full mental effort.

A sudden burst of clarity allowed me to stay calm on the surface. Over the years, I had realized that my master only ever told half the truth and liked to act mysterious. I needed to find a way to trick him into revealing more.

After a moment of silence, I asked, “Master, since grandmaster was so wealthy and liked calligraphy and paintings, why did he not just buy them himself? Why did he have to ask others for them?”

“You know nothing,” Old Man Jiang said. “When was your grandmaster ever wealthy? He cultivated the Dao and brought along a few disciples. It was already good if he was not penniless. Besides, calligraphy and paintings are about fate in whose hands they end up. Sometimes money cannot measure them.”

Old Man Jiang seemed absorbed in the lotus painting, answering me absentmindedly.

“Grandmaster never bought paintings? I do not believe it. I even like eating e ban er candy. I cannot even resist buying that,” I said, trying my best to sound unconvinced. My master could not stand provocation.

“You, you brat, how can your level compare to your grandmaster? Your grandmaster never bought paintings. Those cultural relics were all acquired through various means, except for ancient texts. Your grandmaster was someone who did not even care about his own living standards. He would never spend money on such things.”

As expected, Old Man Jiang was provoked. He turned and scolded me, but after finishing, he suddenly realized something was wrong and shut his mouth.

Then he looked at me with some caution, as if trying to see through something. I could no longer hold it in either. I was not an actor, and reaching this point already felt like my intelligence, limited as it was, had been fully utilized.

I stood up at once, hands on my hips, and said loudly, “Master, how old exactly is my grandmaster?”

Old Man Jiang began coughing violently. He kept coughing and coughing without answering.

I knew it. I simply folded my arms and squatted on the chair.

“Master, if you are going to dodge the question, that is unacceptable. Even if I wait until dawn, I will wait for you to finish coughing. Even if you beat my head open, I must know the answer. Even if it means copying the Dao De Jing ten thousand times, I will accept it.”

Old Man Jiang stopped coughing and turned to me.

“Ten thousand copies of the Dao De Jing?”

“That was a metaphor! You are always using metaphors!” I quickly said. This old man had a strong sense of revenge. If I angered him, who knew if he would make me really copy it ten thousand times.

“Forget it, this is not some secret. Your grandmaster is from the late Ming period. Tell me, how old does that make him?”

While rolling up the painting, he said it calmly.

I had already started learning history in school, but it still felt shallow to me because my cheap master often taught me history in his spare time. Compared to my peers, I knew far more.

I had a rough idea of how many years the late Ming period was, and how long the Qing dynasty ruled. I quickly calculated in my head and suddenly jumped up.

“Master, you are not allowed to lie to me. My grandmaster is over 300 years old?”

At that moment, an image of my grandmaster appeared in my mind. He looked like an ordinary old farmer, somewhat weathered, but not like a very old man. He did not look like someone nearing the end of life at all. He could easily have lived another twenty or thirty years.

Most importantly, that portrait was painted by my master himself, which meant it reflected how he truly looked at the time.

Actually, the moment I asked the question, I already knew my master was not lying. Yun Shouping’s painting was right there, and my master never lied about important matters.

“I never said your grandmaster lived to over 300 years,” Old Man Jiang said as he packed away the painting. “He just... happened to exist in that era, and also happened to exist in this era.”

His tone was casual, but his back was slightly trembling. After being with him for so many years, I knew he was not calm at all.

“Master, he is my grandmaster too. Tell me about him. Please!”

My curiosity had never been this intense before. It felt like if I did not find out, I would die from discomfort.

With a few thuds, Old Man Jiang closed the box and put his hands behind his back.

“Calligraphy and paintings still cannot be sold. When you give away works of calligraphy and painting, it carries someone’s heartfelt intention. To me, these paintings have spirit and are things to appreciate. They cannot be equated with money. That would stain my heart.”

“Master...” I pleaded, but he ignored me completely.

He walked straight to the table and picked up a piece of white jade.

“This piece of jade, I have nourished it in a spiritual spring for five years. It has followed me for more than ten years, and every day it has listened to scriptures and Daoist chants. It is already a treasure.”

“This counts as a treasure?” I immediately asked, my attention diverted.

That was just how I was. My master often said I was too easily distracted. It was not necessarily a good thing. Sometimes being simple-minded was better, because then one could focus entirely on cultivation.

“How is it not a treasure?” he said. “Do you think spiritual springs and blessed lands are so easy to find? In an endless mountain range, there are only a few places where spiritual energy gathers. Some places have none at all. And even when there is spiritual energy, its quality varies. A piece of jade may absorb it differently depending on the land. In some places, the spiritual energy seems abundant, but after a month, it is exhausted. In others, the jade cracks after being buried because it cannot withstand it. Jade nourished in such places is already a treasure, not to mention jade naturally formed in spiritual lands.”

Whenever it came to his expertise, Old Man Jiang became very willing to explain.

“So this jade was naturally formed in a spiritual land?” I asked curiously.

“Rubbish, you think it is that easy to find? That kind of thing is priceless beyond measure. This piece was already good enough after being nourished in a spiritual spring. I also nurtured it for over ten years. I originally planned to use it as a magical artifact, as a formation core or something. Of course, to ordinary people, it is already a priceless treasure.”

“Master, after you nourish it, it goes from ordinary to treasure? You always say cultivators should be humble and low profile,” I muttered.