Chapter 321
Chapter 321
After going home and putting away our luggage, we headed to the storefront.
When Meng Yifan heard that Lin Jinhua had been killed by Lin Yin, he could hardly believe it.
He even wondered whether Du Yunting was slandering her.
After all, the Lin Yin we knew had clearly been a sweet and innocent young woman.
“I saw her at the funeral home this morning. There wasn’t a trace of grief on her face. All I saw was pride.”
I shook my head. “You can’t judge a person’s heart by appearances.”
I really could not trust people so easily anymore.
I had seen through Assistant He’s hypocrisy, yet I had never seen through Lin Yin’s.
Perhaps this was what people meant when they said the human heart was more treacherous than mountains and rivers.
We did not discuss Lin Yin any further. Our paths would never cross again anyway. She was a powerful company president now.
“Here’s the invitation your wife had someone deliver. She’s invited us to an exclusive business conference.”
Meng Yifan chuckled as he handed us the invitation.
I opened it and was immediately taken aback.
This was no ordinary industry conference. It was a conference for medium and large enterprises. Small companies could barely qualify to attend, while an obscure little storefront like ours would never have stood a chance.
But the organizer was Jiangling Group, and its chairwoman was Pan Xiaorou. Naturally, we got to ride on her coattails. Not only could Meng Yifan attend as our boss, but the rest of us employees could go as well.
The conference was scheduled for one week from now.
“Whose wife? Stop talking nonsense!”
Song Xiaotian looked displeased. “You can go if you want. I’m not going.”
“Fine, don’t go. You really don’t know what’s good for you.”
Even Meng Yifan was speechless at his attitude.
When it came to relationships, Meng Yifan was absolutely a good man. If anything, he was so devoted that he came close to being a lovesick fool. That was why he could not stand the way Song Xiaotian treated Pan Xiaorou.
Business at the storefront had recently leveled off. It was neither good nor bad.
Our line of work was unusual, after all, and that came with both advantages and disadvantages. The disadvantage was that we had few potential clients and few available properties. Whether a sale went through ultimately depended on the client’s state of mind.
If someone was superstitious about a place, no amount of persuasion would help.
As a result, we spent most of our time with nothing to do.
Since we were free, we agreed to visit Song Xiaotian’s grandfather together the next day.
That night, I had two dreams.
In the first, I dreamed of Xiuzhu.
Xiuzhu and I stood atop a mountain. She gazed at the magnificent landscape below, completely entranced.
She had grown up in the Luo Mansion and might never even have ventured beyond its street. She had certainly never seen all the beauty this world had to offer.
I knew she was about to enter reincarnation. Perhaps she was frightened and confused about the world, which was why she had sent me this dream.
“This is a new era, one where men and women are equal and people practice monogamy.”
I crouched down and said to Xiuzhu, “After you’re born, you’ll have one mother and one father, and your father will only be allowed one wife. They’ll treat you well. You’ll be able to go to kindergarten and meet lots of children your own age.”
“You’ll grow up healthy, and no one will ever bully you again. If anyone tries, your parents will protect you. That’s the new era.”
Xiuzhu stared at me in disbelief, as if everything I described was utterly impossible.
But that was the era I lived in. It might not be perfect, but it was always improving.
“But I don’t want to leave you.” Xiuzhu threw herself into my arms and held me tight.
I smiled. “We’re all part of the natural world. When we die, our bodies return to the earth, while our souls pass through the cycle of reincarnation again and again. Perhaps we already met in another lifetime. That’s fate.”
“I think we’ll meet again in the future. A temporary farewell only makes our future reunion possible.”
Xiuzhu let me go, then cradled my head in her hands and asked, “What if I can’t find you?”
I said, “As long as I think of you and know you’re alive somewhere in this world, that will be enough for me. It should be enough for you too.”
She thought for a moment, then extended her right index finger and drew a small circle on her left arm.
The circle soon sank into her skin, forming something like a birthmark.
I stared at her in a daze and suddenly remembered someone else: Du Yuwei’s child.
When I had tried to persuade that child to enter reincarnation, he had also left a birthmark on his arm so I could find him in his next life.
“When you see this in the future, you’ll know it’s me.”
After leaving the mark on her soul, Xiuzhu beamed happily at me.
I stroked her head. “All right. I’ll find you. I hope we’ll meet again.”
When I woke from the dream, I was still half asleep and did not even realize I had been dreaming.
I went to the bathroom, came back, and fell asleep again the moment my head hit the pillow.
Soon, I began to dream once more. This time, I dreamed of the Ancestral Master.
I respectfully saluted him with cupped hands to show my reverence.
I had known I would dream of him again. Since he had given me a test, there naturally had to be some kind of evaluation afterward.
“Ha! Good. Not bad at all.”
The Ancestral Master clapped and laughed. “You have proven yourself teachable. I didn’t accept you as my disciple for nothing. You catch on quickly, young man.”
I did not dare take credit for a shortcut, so I honestly told him that someone had guided me with the note. Without its warnings, I might never have attained enlightenment and completed the test.
But the Ancestral Master said, “You did not seek out the shortcut. It came to you of its own accord. That means it was something that would naturally occur, so you simply accepted it as part of the natural course of events. There is no need to dwell on it.”
“Besides, from what you have told me, the note never gave you the answers outright. Since nothing was spelled out, your own understanding and commitment to the Dao still guided the final outcome. You achieved this result, so accept it with a clear conscience.”
Listening to the Ancestral Master speak was like being caressed by a spring breeze.
Even so, I still wanted an answer from him. I wanted to know the identity of the person who had left me the note.
After all, the Ancestral Master knew everything.
But he said, “You possess insight, but you still require many years of tempering before your knowledge and actions become one. Let me ask you: what is nonaction?”
I froze for a moment, then hastily answered, “Nonaction is a core Daoist principle. But it does not mean doing nothing or remaining passive. It means that nothing is left undone, provided one follows the objective laws of the Dao and refrains from excessive interference through deliberate action, lest one disrupt the natural course and healthy development of events.”
The Ancestral Master nodded. “You understand the principle, but you have yet to live by it. Thus, you remain far from making knowledge and action one.”
“The person who helped you does not wish you to know his identity, and he means you no harm. If you insist on investigating further, would that not violate the principle of allowing things to follow their natural course?”
“Once that principle is broken, even a good thing may turn bad.”
Realization dawned on me. My understanding was still shallow, and I remained far from achieving unity between knowledge and action.