62: A gentle ripple in early autumn, a breeze from beyond the mountains.

At the end of August, the summer heat had not yet dissipated, but signs of early autumn were already appearing on Yuntai Mountain.

The leaves of the ancient cypress tree remained verdant, but a few cool breezes now drifted through the forest. The morning dew had grown heavier, wetting the bluestone steps and shimmering crystal-clear in the morning light. The wild chrysanthemums along the mountain path had bloomed early, their yellow and white petals dotting the still-lush greenery.

Life at Qingfeng Temple seemed to have returned to its former tranquility.

Half a month had passed since the Lin family matter was settled. After Lin Xiaoyu recovered, Li Shiyu accompanied her up the mountain to fulfill her vow, staying at the temple for three days. The gloom between the young girl's brows had vanished, replaced by the brightness a seventeen-year-old should have. Only when she occasionally looked toward the Spirit Well would a trace of daze flash in her eyes—as if she remembered something, yet forgot everything.

Li Muchen did not ask further questions.

For some memories, it was better to forget.

This afternoon, he was tending to the newly established Spiritual Plant nursery in the backyard.

The Purple-leaf Creeper had already covered half the wall, its leaves shimmering with a metallic luster under the sun; the Seven-leaf Lotus had bloomed for the second time, with a touch of tender yellow at the center of its white jade-like petals, emitting a refreshing fragrance; most peculiar were the few stalks of dragon beard grass, their slender leaves moving without wind, swaying gently as if they possessed life.

These were all low-grade Spiritual Plant seeds obtained through check-ins. Nourished by the Spirit Gathering Formation and spirit well water, they grew exceptionally well. Though not of great use, seeing them full of vitality brought a sense of peace to his heart.

"Temple Master!"

Zhao Desheng's voice came from the front courtyard, carrying a hint of urgency.

Li Muchen put down the water ladle, wiped his hands, and walked toward the front courtyard.

The old man stood under the ancient cypress tree, holding a cloth bag, his forehead still beaded with sweat. Seeing Li Muchen come out, he stepped forward quickly and lowered his voice: "Temple Master, something has happened."

"Speak slowly." Li Muchen led him to the stone table to sit and poured him a cup of tea.

Zhao Desheng gulped down some tea, caught his breath, and then said, "I went to Lianhua County yesterday to visit relatives, you know? My second sister married into a family over there."

Li Muchen nodded. Lianhua County was the neighboring county, about a two-hour drive from Yuntai Mountain.

"While eating at my relative's house, I heard them say..." Zhao Desheng paused, his expression a bit strange, "the people at Lotus Temple... have been gossiping about our temple."

"Gossip?"

"They say our temple is stealing their incense offerings," Zhao Desheng said indignantly. "They claim Yuntai Mountain was originally Buddhist territory and that our Daoist temple is a newcomer that doesn't know the rules. They even said that you, Temple Master... that you use 'evil arts' and not proper Daoist methods."

Hearing this, Li Muchen's expression remained unchanged as he gently swirled the teacup in his hand.

Lotus Temple—he knew of it.

It was a famous thousand-year-old ancient temple in Jin Province, first built in the Tang Dynasty and reaching its peak during the Ming and Qing Dynasties. Its pagodas and Buddhist halls were magnificent, and its incense offerings had always been abundant. The abbot, Master Huiming, was highly prestigious in the Buddhist community, said to be an eloquent debater with many Disciples.

He just hadn't expected that even this pure Buddhist land would care about the amount of incense offerings.

"What else?" he asked.

"There's plenty more!" Zhao Desheng grew angrier as he spoke. "They say using well water to treat illnesses is 'playing god and ghosts,' that the hundred birds paying homage to the temple is 'beast-taming evil arts,' and they even say..." He paused, his voice dropping lower, "they say that since you have such abilities at such a young age, you must have taken some crooked path."

Li Muchen smiled.

A crooked path?

If diligently practicing the Supreme Clarity Purple Mansion Returning to Origin True Scripture, refining his Dao Foundation day and night, and protecting himself with the Golden Light of Merit counted as a crooked path, then there were likely few Righteous Paths left in this world.

"Were these words spoken by the monks of Lotus Temple?" he asked.

"It wasn't said openly," Zhao Desheng shook his head. "It was the son of my second sister's neighbor, who is a Guest Prefect Monk at Lotus Temple. He was complaining to his family in private, and it spread. However..." He hesitated for a moment, "I heard that in Master Huiming's recent lectures, he mentioned things like 'the True Dharma' and 'outer paths.' His words, both direct and indirect, seemed to point in that direction."

Li Muchen put down his teacup and looked out toward the courtyard.

The mountain wind swept through the courtyard, rustling the branches and leaves of the ancient cypress tree.

The conflict between Buddhism and Daoism had existed since ancient times.

Yet, in this modern era where Daoist methods were withered, it was quite interesting that such sectarian prejudices still existed.

"Temple Master, you must be careful," Zhao Desheng said worriedly. "I heard from that Guest Prefect Monk that Master Huiming has already contacted several high-ranking monks to organize some kind of 'Dharma Debate and Dao Discussion.' I reckon... it's aimed at you."

"Dharma Debate and Dao Discussion?" Li Muchen raised an eyebrow. "Exchange between Buddhism and Daoism is originally a good thing."

"But it doesn't look like an exchange!" Zhao Desheng said urgently. "My second sister said it's being widely discussed over at Lotus Temple. They say they're going to outshine our temple to let the pilgrims know who the 'orthodox' one is. Someone even said they're going to invite big shots from the province to judge."

Li Muchen fell silent for a moment.

He didn't care about incense offerings, much less about "orthodoxy."

But if someone wanted to use this to cause trouble and disturb the temple's peace, that was a different matter.

"Layman Zhao," he spoke slowly, "thank you for letting me know. I have a plan in mind, so you don't need to worry too much."

"But if they really come..."

"If they come, they are guests." Li Muchen stood up and looked at the mist-shrouded mountain path below. "I will treat them with courtesy. But if someone wants to cause trouble in this temple..."

He paused, his voice calm yet carrying its own weight:

"Then please have them first ask this mountain, this temple, and this Dao."

Zhao Desheng looked at his back. The blue-gray Daoist robe fluttered gently in the wind; though he looked slender, he seemed to merge with the entire mountain, towering and immovable.

The old man felt slightly more at ease, yet he couldn't help but sigh.

The tree wants to be still, but the wind won't stop.

Over the next few days, the rumors indeed grew more intense.

First, the provincial Religious Affairs Bureau sent a formal notice: To promote religious and cultural exchange, a "Jin Province Buddhist-Daoist Traditional Culture Seminar" was scheduled to be held at Lotus Temple in mid-September, specifically inviting Temple Master Li Muchen of Qingfeng Temple to attend.

The wording of the notice was polite, but between the lines, it carried a sense of something that could not be refused.

Next, various "analysis posts" began to appear on local forums and WeChat groups:

《Looking at the Religious Affiliation of Yuntai Mountain from a Historical Perspective: Buddhism is the Orthodox One》

《Rational Analysis of the 'Miracles' at Qingfeng Temple: Scientific Explanation vs. Religious Myths》

《Buddhism vs. Daoism Again? A Thousand-Year-Old Ancient Temple vs. An Internet-Famous Daoist Temple》

Most of the posts sided with Lotus Temple, citing classics and history, starting from the temple's construction in the Tang Dynasty to argue that Yuntai Mountain "originally belonged to Buddhism." Regarding Qingfeng Temple, they mostly held a skeptical attitude; though not stated explicitly, they hinted that Li Muchen was guilty of "hype" and "amassing wealth."

Zhao Xiaowen was so angry when she saw these posts that she slammed her keyboard in her room.

She stayed up all night to write a long article, refuting those rumors one by one, from the history of the Daoist temple and Li Muchen's healing of the villagers to the real ecology in the mountains. The article was posted on her public account and Bilibili, and the view count quickly surpassed a hundred thousand.

But the next day, the article's traffic was restricted.

The platform sent a notice: "After verification, this content involves religious controversy and has been deprioritized."

What made her even more disheartened was the comment section.

"Did the editor get paid? Working so hard to whitewash them?"

"A Daoist priest using well water to cure illnesses and having a hundred birds pay homage—does he think he's an immortal?"

"Support Lotus Temple! A pure Buddhist land should not be defiled by these crooked paths!"

Rational voices were drowned out, leaving only emotional attacks.

Zhao Xiaowen closed her computer and leaned on the table, remaining silent for a long time.

She suddenly remembered Li Muchen's words: "Reality is often not as simple as what the eyes see."

So, this was the "not simple" he was talking about.

On the mountain, Li Muchen's life remained regular.

Morning lessons, evening lessons, sweeping, and tending to the Spiritual Plants. Occasionally, pilgrims would come up the mountain, and he would receive them peacefully, interpret their fortune sticks, and grant them water. He seemed completely oblivious to the turmoil down the mountain.

This morning, he was doing his morning lessons under the ancient cypress tree as usual.

"Laojun says: The Great Dao is formless, giving birth to Heaven and Earth; the Great Dao is emotionless, moving the Sun and Moon..."

The sound of his chanting was clear and peaceful, interweaving with the morning breeze, birdsong, and the rustling of leaves into a wonderful rhythm. On the eaves and walls, birds landed again—sparrows, tits, magpies, and even two rare red-billed blue magpies, listening quietly.

After the chanting ended, the birds chirped softly and dispersed.

Li Muchen opened his eyes and looked toward the brightening eastern sky.

His Spiritual Sense spread out like water, perceiving the breath of the mountain.

The Spirit Gathering Formation was operating normally, and the Spiritual Qi was a bit denser than it had been half a month ago. The ancient cypress tree's vitality was even more majestic, with new tender branches on the trunk already over a foot long. In the Spirit Well, the water vapor was misty, refracting a faint seven-colored halo in the morning light.

All of this was the result of his cultivation over the past year or so.

Coexisting with the mountain, growing with the Dao.

But now, someone wanted to break this tranquility.

"Temple Master."

Zhao Xiaowen's voice came from behind him.

She was carrying her camera bag, and the dark circles under her eyes showed she clearly hadn't slept well.

"Layman Zhao." Li Muchen turned around and saw the camera in her hand. "What are you filming today?"

"I want to... film a documentary." Zhao Xiaowen gathered her courage. "To record the real Qingfeng Temple, to record the daily life here, and to record you. Let those people outside see what kind of place this really is."

Li Muchen looked at the persistence in her eyes and smiled slightly. "Then go ahead and film. Just remember—"

He paused. "A lens can record form, but not necessarily spirit. The prejudices in people's hearts cannot be changed by just a few photos or videos."

"But I have to try." Zhao Xiaowen gripped her camera. "I can't just watch them slander you and this temple like that."

Li Muchen nodded and said no more.

He walked to the Spirit Well, drew a bucket of water, and began to water the vegetable patches.

His movements were unhurried, his expression focused and peaceful, as if the task at hand was the most important thing in the world.

Zhao Xiaowen raised her camera and looked at him through the viewfinder.

In the morning light, the back of the blue-gray Daoist robe was slender yet upright, every muscle movement carrying a certain sense of rhythm. The water ladle was raised, and the well water splashed down, tracing a crystal-clear arc in the sunlight. On the leaves of the cabbages and radishes, water droplets rolled, refracting tiny glints of light.

This scene was so tranquil it was intoxicating.

She pressed the shutter.

"Click."

The sound was very light, yet it seemed to break some kind of barrier.

Li Muchen turned his head and looked into the lens.

His gaze was calm and profound, as if it could pierce through the lens and see the heart of the person behind it.

Zhao Xiaowen's heart trembled, and she suddenly understood.

What he wanted to protect was never incense offerings or reputation.

It was this tranquility.

This tranquility of coexisting with the mountain and growing with the Dao.

But this tranquility was being shaken by the wind from beyond the mountain.

She put away her camera and took a deep breath: "Temple Master, the seminar... are you going?"

Li Muchen put down the water ladle and looked down the mountain.

The mist was dispersing, revealing the winding mountain path and the faint outlines of the distant town.

"I'm going," he said calmly. "Since it's an invitation, I'll go and see."

"But they..."

"Layman Zhao," Li Muchen interrupted her, his voice calm. "Do you know why Daoist temples are built on mountain peaks?"

Zhao Xiaowen shook her head.

"Because on a mountain peak, there is no way to retreat." Li Muchen looked toward the distant mountains. "A cliff in front, an abyss behind; only by moving forward with one heart can one reach the summit. Cultivation is like this, and protecting the Dao is also like this."

He turned and walked toward the Main Hall:

"Since they requested a discussion on the Dao, then we shall discuss the Dao."

"I also want to see what kind of Dharma this thousand-year-old Buddhist sect practices, and what kind of people they deliver."

In the morning light, his back disappeared into the hall.

Only one sentence remained, echoing in the courtyard:

"Prepare the car. We go down the mountain tomorrow."

Zhao Xiaowen stood in place, looking at the empty hall door, suddenly feeling that this upcoming "seminar" probably wouldn't be as peaceful as the organizers imagined.

The mountain rain is about to come.

And the Daoist temple on the mountain peak was already prepared to face the wind and rain.

She gripped her camera, making a silent resolution in her heart:

This time, she would record everything.

Record the real Dao, the real people, and the real... confrontation.