Suo Qingjun Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Meditating on the Quiet Cliff, Clear Thoughts are Pulled; The Mad Strings Gradually Soften, Wrapping Around the Lord’s Heart

After returning to Qihe Peak, Qing Feng’an did not imprison Jin Xianling, but instead kept his promise and sent him to Heart-Quieting Cliff. This cliff face leaned against the main peak of Cangwu Mountain and was perpetually shrouded in spiritual mist. There was only a single, simple stone room on the cliff, with Buddhist scriptures and sword manuals placed upon a stone desk, making it an excellent place for quiet meditation and enlightenment.

“Within three years, you are not to leave this cliff by even a single step.” Qing Feng’an escorted Jin Xianling to the entrance of the stone room, his tone flat and devoid of emotion. “Practice the sword daily at the Hour of the Tiger, recite scriptures at noon, and sit in meditation at the Hour of the Rooster. If there is any disobedience, you will be expelled from Qihe Peak immediately.”

Jin Xianling looked at the simple furnishings of the stone room, yet his eyes curved into a smile as if he had received the most precious reward in the world. “This disciple obeys.” His bare feet had long since been worn into bloody blisters by the mountain path, yet he still straightened his back and bowed respectfully to Qing Feng’an. “Rest assured, Master. I will definitely be good and listen; I will never make you angry.”

Qing Feng’an said nothing more and turned to leave.

“Master!” Jin Xianling suddenly called out to him, his voice carrying a hint of cautious anticipation. “Will you… will you come to see me?”

Qing Feng’an paused for a moment but did not look back, saying only indifferently, “Focus on your meditation.” Having said that, his figure flashed and vanished into the spiritual mist.

Jin Xianling gazed in the direction he had left, a flash of disappointment crossing his eyes, though it was quickly replaced by determination. He walked into the stone room and stroked the sword manuals on the stone desk, a trace of obsessive smiling hooking his lips. “Master, as long as I can satisfy you, let alone three years, I can wait even ten or twenty years.”

From then on, a persistent figure appeared upon Heart-Quieting Cliff. Every day at the Hour of the Tiger, before the sky had even brightened, Jin Xianling would grip a wooden sword and practice at the edge of the cliff. He had no foundation in martial arts and his meridians had been destroyed; when practicing, his strength often failed him. The wooden sword slipped from his hand several times, hitting the rocks at his feet with a dull thud.

But he never gave up. Every time he fell, he immediately climbed back up, rubbed his aching arms, and continued to brandish the wooden sword. He was not practicing moves meant to harm others, but rather the basic sword styles left behind by Qing Feng’an, seeking only to strengthen his body and let his Master see his change.

At noon, he would sit before the stone desk and recite Buddhist scriptures. Those obscure and difficult texts were things he wouldn’t have even bothered to look at before, but now he studied them carefully word by word, attempting to use the Buddhist teachings to dissolve the obsession in his heart. Sometimes while reading, he would think of Qing Feng’an, of the moments they spent together, and of his former madness. His heart would sting, and he would then grip the scriptures even tighter, as if doing so could dispel those frantic thoughts.

At the Hour of the Rooster, he would sit in quiet meditation by the cliff, gazing at the mist-shrouded main peak in the distance while silently chanting Qing Feng’an’s name. He was no longer filled with possessiveness as before, but was learning to restrain his obsession and to miss him with a peaceful mindset.

Although Qing Feng’an never said it explicitly, he would quietly come to the vicinity of Heart-Quieting Cliff every day to watch Jin Xianling’s every move. He saw Jin Xianling’s persistence when practicing the sword, his earnestness when reciting scriptures, and his loneliness during meditation. A ripple gradually stirred within his heart.

On this day, Qing Feng’an came to visit as usual, only to see Jin Xianling staring blankly at a single orchid growing in a crevice of the cliff wall. The orchid grew tenaciously within the barren stone crack, blooming with a single pure white petal amidst the swirling spiritual mist, looking elegant and refined.

“Master.” Jin Xianling sensed his aura and immediately turned around. A look of pleasant surprise appeared on his face, but he then remembered his status and quickly composed himself, bowing respectfully.

Qing Feng’an stepped forward, his gaze falling upon the orchid. He said softly, “This flower was born in a desperate place, yet it can maintain its original heart, elegant and refined. It is truly rare.”

Jin Xianling followed his gaze and said quietly, “This disciple feels that it is like Master.”

Qing Feng’an’s brow furrowed slightly. “Oh?”

“Master dwells within the turmoils of the martial world, yet you can focus solely on the sword and maintain your original heart without being trapped by worldly affairs.” Jin Xianling’s tone was sincere, his eyes no longer holding the madness of the past, leaving only pure admiration. “This disciple also wishes to be such an orchid, concentrating on meditation here on Heart-Quieting Cliff, no longer trapped by obsession, seeking only to be worthy of Master.”

Qing Feng’an’s heart stirred as he looked at Jin Xianling. The youth before him had shed his former mad and hostile aura; his eyes were clear and firm, and though his face still held a bit of youthfulness, it had gained a touch of steadiness. The black robes on his body had long been washed until they were pale, and the wounds on his feet had healed, leaving faint scars, yet he still stood with a straight back like the orchid on the cliff wall, exuding a tenacious vitality.

“That you can have such a realization means your time has not been wasted.” Qing Feng’an’s tone softened slightly. “The way of the sword emphasizes the state of mind. If the heart is clear, the sword is clear; if the heart is obsessive, the sword is mad. You must remember that true strength is not conquering others, but overcoming yourself.”

“This disciple will keep Master’s teachings in mind.” Jin Xianling bowed, his eyes full of gratitude. “That Master is willing to say these things to me today… does it mean you have a little bit of… recognition for me?”

Qing Feng’an did not answer, but simply reached into his robes to take out a porcelain bottle and handed it to Jin Xianling. “These are Mind-Focusing Pills. Take one daily; it will help you in your meditation.”

Jin Xianling took the porcelain bottle as if it were a priceless treasure, clutching it tightly in his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly. “Thank you, Master!”

Qing Feng’an said no more and turned to leave. When he reached the edge of the cliff, he glanced back, only to see Jin Xianling carefully tucking the porcelain bottle against his chest before picking up the wooden sword to continue his practice. The sunlight filtered through the spiritual mist and spilled over him, outlining a warm silhouette that made it impossible to associate him with the mad youth of the past.

As the days passed, Jin Xianling devoted himself to meditation on Heart-Quieting Cliff, and his state of mind became more peaceful by the day. He was no longer obsessed with possessing Qing Feng’an as he once was, but learned to look at him with eyes of appreciation and treat him with a sincere attitude.

Qing Feng’an also frequently came to Heart-Quieting Cliff to visit. Sometimes he would discuss sword theories with him, sometimes recite scriptures together, and sometimes simply sit with him quietly for a while without saying a word. The atmosphere between the two gradually shifted from the tension and opposition of the past to something peaceful and warm.

On this day, Qing Feng’an arrived at Heart-Quieting Cliff again, only to find Jin Xianling sitting at the stone desk with a brush in hand, writing on a sheet of Xuan paper. A poem was written on the paper in neat and powerful script, devoid of the madness of the past and filled with a touch of elegance:

On Heart-Quieting Cliff, I seek the Zen’s hidden key,

Amidst the spiritual mist, my sword rests with me.

Shedding the madness to keep my true heart clear,

Only to wait for the time when Qing Feng is near.

Seeing Qing Feng’an, Jin Xianling quickly put down the brush, a shy smile appearing on his face. “Master, this disciple wrote a small poem on a whim. I have made a fool of myself.”

Qing Feng’an stepped forward, his gaze falling upon the paper as a trace of warmth rose in his heart. This poem contained none of the former obsessive madness, only a sincere heart quietly meditating and waiting for the flowers to bloom.

“It is well written.” Qing Feng’an’s tone was sincere. “It seems you have truly grown up.”

Jin Xianling was ecstatic, tears welling in his eyes. “Master, you finally approve of me!”

Looking at his excited expression, a faint smile hooked the corner of Qing Feng’an’s lips. This smile was like a spring breeze blowing across a lake, rippling in layers and instantly melting the final barrier between the two.

He knew that the obsession in Jin Xianling’s heart had not completely vanished, but the youth had learned restraint and how to grow. And he himself, during this time spent together, had gradually come to understand the true meaning of tempering the heart in the mortal world. The word “love” did not only consist of romantic entanglements; it also included the bond between master and disciple, the bond of soulmates, and that salvation and protection that transcended madness and obsession.

On Heart-Quieting Cliff, the spiritual mist swirled and the orchid bloomed. Gazing at Qing Feng’an’s gentle smile, Jin Xianling made a silent vow: he would continue to work hard, meditating on Heart-Quieting Cliff to completely dissolve the obsession in his heart. He believed that one day, he would stand by Qing Feng’an’s side in his best form, standing shoulder to shoulder with him to watch the winds and rains of the martial world and enjoy the lights of the human realm together.

And as Qing Feng’an looked at the youth who had undergone such a complete transformation, he gradually found his answer. Perhaps this journey down the mountain triggered by a forced marriage, and this mad entanglement born of obsession, had been a fated connection from the very beginning.