The Dream Of Cloud And Wind Peak was a world unto itself, a sprawling wilderness of ancient trees and jagged cliffs, untouched by the hand of civilization. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of wild creatures. Elder Dun and Lin Yaodi walked along a narrow, winding path, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves.
Elder Dun, despite being a cultivator of formidable power, moved with the unhurried gait of a seasoned soldier, his armor clanking softly with each step. He carried no cultivation artifacts, no magical treasures, only the weight of his own experience and the unwavering strength of his spirit. Lin Yaodi, a mortal in every sense of the word, followed close behind, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and apprehension.
They climbed steadily, the path growing steeper with each passing moment. Elder Dun, without breaking his stride, turned to Lin Yaodi.
"Brat," he said, his voice rough and gravelly, "what do you think cultivation is?"
Lin Yaodi, startled by the sudden question, stumbled slightly. "Master," he stammered, "cultivation… it's the path to immortality, isn't it? A journey to transcend mortality, to become one with the Dao."
Elder Dun grunted, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. "And after you achieve this… immortality? What then?"
Lin Yaodi blinked, taken aback by the question. "What do you mean, Master? Isn't immortality the ultimate goal? The pinnacle of cultivation?"
Elder Dun continued his ascent, his silence a heavy, unspoken question. "If you could achieve immortality without ever taking a single step on the path of Dao, would you still cultivate?"
Lin Yaodi's brow furrowed. He had never considered such a question. Was immortality truly the end goal? Was there nothing beyond it?
"I… I don't know, Master," he admitted, his voice laced with confusion.
Elder Dun stopped, turning to face Lin Yaodi. His eyes, sharp and piercing, held a depth of wisdom that seemed to transcend mortal understanding. "The Dao can give you everything: wealth, status, power, even invincibility. But it can give these things to others as well. It is not unique to you. The Dao is everywhere, accessible to all. Everyone has the right to pursue immortality."
He resumed his climb, his voice echoing through the silent forest. "More important than the Dao, brat, is the cultivation of your Dao Heart."
Lin Yaodi frowned. "Dao Heart? What is that, Master?"
Elder Dun paused, his gaze sweeping over the vast expanse of the forest. "The Dao Heart is the foundation of your being, the core of your spirit. It is the unwavering resolve that guides you, the inner strength that allows you to overcome any obstacle. It is the compass that points you true, when the Dao itself blurs."
Lin Yaodi's eyes widened. "Is it… is it more powerful than a supreme cultivation technique?"
Elder Dun chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that echoed through the trees. "That, brat, is a mystery you will have to unravel yourself."
They continued their climb, the silence broken only by the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps on the fallen leaves. After a long moment, Elder Dun spoke again. "I have no cultivation techniques to teach you, brat. Not even the most basic. No grand arts, no secret manuals."
Lin Yaodi, surprisingly, showed no signs of disappointment. Instead, his eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Then what will you teach me, Master?"
"I will teach you the Dao Heart," Elder Dun said, his voice firm and unwavering. "It is the only thing I know, the only thing worth knowing."
The path grew steeper, the air thinner, but Lin Yaodi's spirit remained undeterred. He followed his master, his mind buzzing with questions, his heart filled with a quiet determination. He was on a path unlike any other, a path of the uncarved stone, a journey into the depths of his own being.
The path ended at a small, unassuming bamboo house, nestled amidst a grove of towering bamboo stalks. It was a simple dwelling, devoid of any ornamentation or signs of cultivation. Elder Dun gestured towards a woven bamboo basket resting outside the house.
"Brat," he said, his voice gruff, "fetch water for me. Use this basket."
Lin Yaodi, his brow furrowed, stared at the basket. "Water? Master, where is the river?"
Elder Dun didn't answer. He simply turned and walked towards the dense bamboo forest, vanishing into the green depths like a ghost. Lin Yaodi, left alone, scratched his head in confusion. He picked up the basket, its rough texture a stark contrast to the smooth, polished tools he had seen in the sect.
He began his search, wandering through the forest, his eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of water. He explored every corner of the peak, from the rocky cliffs to the shadowed valleys, but found nothing. As the sun began to set, casting long, eerie shadows across the land, a sense of frustration settled over him. He cursed his luck, his master's cryptic instructions, and the elusive river.
With a heavy sigh, he returned to the bamboo house. Elder Dun was seated on the ground, a small, low table set before him. On it were a few simple bowls, a pot of rice and beans, and a jug of water.
"Master," Lin Yaodi apologized, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't find the river."
Elder Dun didn't berate him. He simply nodded, his eyes fixed on the darkening sky. "You will find it soon enough, brat. Do not rush."
Lin Yaodi, still confused, sat down beside his master. The bamboo stalks swayed gently in the evening breeze, their rustling leaves creating a soft, rhythmic melody. Elder Dun gestured towards the food.
"Eat," he said, his voice quiet.
They ate in silence, the simple meal of rice and beans a stark contrast to the elaborate feasts Lin Yaodi had imagined in his dreams of cultivation. After a while, Elder Dun spoke.
"What did you see, brat, during your search?"
Lin Yaodi grunted, his frustration returning. "Nothing, Master. Just mountains, trees, plants… nothing special."
"And what did you learn today?" Elder Dun asked, his voice calm.
"I learned that within a ten-kilometer radius, there is no river," Lin Yaodi replied, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Elder Dun chuckled softly, a low, rumbling sound. "You learned only the absence of something, brat. You have not opened your eyes."
He paused, his gaze fixed on the darkening sky. "Tell me, brat, how was the world born?"
Lin Yaodi blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. "I… I don't know, Master."
"No one truly knows," Elder Dun said, his voice thoughtful. "But it did not simply appear from nothing, did it? Even if it was born from the void, from chaos, from some primordial force, there was still a catalyst, a spark."
He gestured towards the surrounding forest. "Just as the world was born from something, we, as cultivators, must learn from everything. The mountains, the trees, the wind, the very air we breathe – they all hold lessons, insights into the Dao."
Lin Yaodi's brow furrowed. "But what if we learn everything, Master? What then?"
Elder Dun smiled, a rare and gentle expression. "Learning has no end, brat. Even a single leaf holds countless mysteries, countless perspectives. We can spend a lifetime studying it and still uncover new truths. The universe itself is constantly evolving, constantly revealing new knowledge. We are always ignorant, always learning."
He picked up a handful of beans, letting them trickle through his fingers. "A cultivator must be like the river, brat. Always flowing, always adapting, always learning. Only then can we truly understand Dao."
The night deepened, the moon casting long, silver shadows across the bamboo grove. The air grew cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and the subtle fragrance of the bamboo blossoms. Elder Dun, his eyes reflecting the moonlight, continued his discourse.
"Tell me, brat," he said, his voice a low rumble, "you searched for the river. What did you *feel* during your search?"
Lin Yaodi frowned, trying to recall his emotions. "I felt… frustration. Disappointed. I couldn't find what you asked for."
Elder Dun nodded slowly. "Frustration. Disappointment. These are emotions. But were they born of the search itself, or of your expectation to find a river?"
Lin Yaodi paused, considering. "My expectation, I suppose. I expected to find a river, and when I didn't, I was frustrated."
"And why did you expect to find a river?" Elder Dun asked, his voice gentle.
"Because you told me to fetch water from it," Lin Yaodi replied, his voice slightly defensive.
"I told you to fetch water," Elder Dun corrected. "I did not specify where. You assumed a river." He picked up a small stone from the ground, turning it over in his calloused hands. "Assumptions, brat, are the greatest obstacles to understanding. They blind us to what is, in favor of what we think should be."
He tossed the stone into the darkness. "The Dao is not a river you can find on a map. It is the very essence of existence, flowing through everything, within everything. You searched for a physical river, and thus, you found nothing."
Lin Yaodi's brow furrowed. "Then… where is the river, Master?"
Elder Dun chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "The river is everywhere, brat. It is in the dew on the leaves, the moisture in the air, the very sap that flows through the bamboo. It is the life force that sustains this peak, this forest, this world."
He paused, his eyes fixed on Lin Yaodi. "But to see it, you must first learn to see beyond your assumptions, beyond your expectations. You must learn to feel the flow of the Dao, the subtle currents that connect all things."
"How, Master?" Lin Yaodi asked, his voice filled with earnest curiosity. "How do I learn to see?"
Elder Dun smiled, a rare and fleeting expression. "By opening your heart, brat. By silencing the noise of your own desires and judgments. By becoming like the still water of a deep pool, reflecting the true nature of the world around you."
He gestured towards the bamboo grove. "Look at the bamboo. It bends with the wind, yielding to its force, yet it remains rooted, strong. It does not resist the change, but adapts to it. This is the way of the Dao, the way of the river."
"But… bending is a weakness, isn't it?" Lin Yaodi asked, his voice laced with doubt.
"Weakness?" Elder Dun scoffed. "To yield is not weakness, brat. It is wisdom. It is the strength to adapt, to flow with the currents of life. The rigid tree, the one that refuses to bend, is the first to break in a storm."
He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "The Dao is not about brute force, about overpowering the world. It is about understanding the world, about finding harmony within it. It is about becoming one with the river, flowing with its currents, embracing its changes."
"And the Dao Heart, Master?" Lin Yaodi asked, his voice hushed. "How does it relate to the river?"
"The Dao Heart is the vessel that holds the river within you, brat," Elder Dun replied, his voice low and resonant. "It is the strength of your spirit, the depth of your understanding, the clarity of your perception. It is the compass that guides you through the currents of life, the anchor that keeps you grounded in the face of change."
He stood up, his gaze sweeping over the moonlit grove. "Tomorrow, we will begin your training. Not in martial arts, not in cultivation techniques, but in the art of perception, in the cultivation of your Dao Heart. And you, brat, will find your river."