Chapter 745 — The Prodigies of High Antiquity
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
The Daoist held a compass in his hand, muttering incantations, while the compass clicked and spun on its own, cycling through one symbol after another. The monk, with one hand, fingered a string of prayer beads that turned ceaselessly, each click of bead against bead giving off a faint tick; his other hand cradled a black iron alms bowl containing a few spirit pills, won by begging, perhaps.
Both were dressed in rags. The Daoist's robe had been washed so often it had gone white, and was patched in several places, yet it was still clean; the monk's garment looked as though it had never been mended, the wind whistling through it on every side. Plainly, neither of them was living well. Shen Mu could not help but wonder, "Do Daoists and monks already exist in this era?
" Kaihuang noticed the monk and the Daoist as well, and he too was taken aback. Shen Mu edged closer, and Kaihuang hurriedly did the same, only to hear the monk and the Daoist in conversation. The monk said, "The Yaochi Grand Gathering is still the best.
I begged a few spirit pills there, enough at least to cover food and clothing.
" Shen Mu's expression turned strange.
The Daoist said, "Don't speak yet.
I have just thought of a problem in the art of numbers. Let me work it out. " The monk laughed.
"What use is all that reckoning of yours?
Better to follow me. I entered the Dao through a dream.
In dreams there is everything. The vast world transforms in ten thousand ways, and from it one may seek the true essence of the Dao. " The Daoist did not even raise his head, still driving the compass onward.
"The great dream of Spring and Autumn is illusion in the end. Only the art of numbers is the true great Dao. I believe the universe and all things are founded upon the art of numbers. Master the art of numbers, and I can comprehend every mystery of the cosmos and the heavens and earth. The art of numbers will surely shine brilliantly in the future!
" The monk was about to reply when he saw Shen Mu and Kaihuang approach. He hastily thrust the black iron bowl toward them and gave it a shake; the few spirit pills inside clinked with a bright ring. "Whether there is fate between us or not, give us two alms.
My junior brother and I have gone hungry for many days," the monk said. Kaihuang's expression turned strange.
He rummaged through his pack and took out a few spirit pills, placing them in the iron bowl.
"Good men are repaid with good," the monk said with a smile, then looked at Shen Mu.
Shen Mu also took out some spirit pills and filled the bowl to the brim.
The monk shook his head. "I cannot take so many. Begging alms is my cultivation.
I need only one day's worth of food. Give more, and you delay my cultivation for the days to come. " With that, he took out the surplus pills and returned them to Shen Mu.
Shen Mu would not accept them.
He smiled and said, "Great monk, this is what you deserve. There is great fate between us. When you meet a man named Mu in the future, you will understand.
" The monk looked at him.
"Why will the benefactor not speak plainly? " Shen Mu shook his head. "The great dream is serene and clear. How do you know you are not dreaming now?
Why speak plainly? In dreams there is the vast world; in dreams the myriad living beings are conjured.
The great monk will understand in time.
" The monk was puzzled and doubtful, then laughed. "The great dream is serene and clear—that has quite captured the essence of my Dao. " Shen Mu turned to look at the Daoist, who was still bitterly pondering. The Daoist's compass was exceedingly complex; its numerical transformations had already touched upon the core problems of the Taixuan Calculation Classic.
Yet to create a calculation classic from nothing was incomparably difficult.
To build from bare hands is hardest of all, and all the more so in an age when no one could yet derive a complete canon of the art of numbers. Shen Mu reached out and flicked the compass.