Chapter 2025 - The Peony Top Scholar's First Visit to Five Immortals Temple

Then it struck him—was not a ready-made opportunity positioned directly before him? This young Master Zhang wished to sponsor a ritual, and Qing Jing had called to invite his family's participation. Needless to say, his mother would enthusiastically support such enterprises. Why not employ the pretext of joining the ritual to visit Five Immortals Temple and meet the hair-thieves' "Daoist"?

The thought energized him instantly. "Someone!" he called.

Thus, on this particular morning, the brothers Li Suiqiu and Li Suiqi arrived at Five Immortals Temple to "offer incense."

As anticipated, the moment he crossed the threshold, Qing Huan received him while murmuring something to a young Daoist nearby. The youth glanced toward the Li brothers and scurried inward.

"Gone to report to the Australians, undoubtedly," Li Suiqiu thought.

Qing Huan led the brothers on a guided tour. Though ostensibly they had come to "offer incense," Li Suiqiu had in fact brought none—presumably the temple maintained supplies. Only upon entering did he discover that New Daoism placed minimal emphasis on burning incense offerings. Though not forbidden, the practice received no encouragement. Only sincere worship and fresh flower offerings held value. Within the halls, incense burning was entirely prohibited; large incense burners stood positioned only on the stone steps outside. Each worshipper received permission for merely three slender sticks. Tall incense, stick incense, gold and silver paper—none could be burned.

Consequently, as they walked, the smoke-choked haze characteristic of major temples remained absent. Though numerous worshippers had gathered, order prevailed remarkably. In more crowded halls, Daoist students guided and dispersed the throngs, directing entry from one side and exit from another—genuinely orderly.

"No wonder everyone claims Australians value the word 'order' above all. The reputation proves well-deserved," Li Suiqiu silently appraised.

Proceeding to the middle hall, though the rear remained separated by doors, sounds of children reciting, playing, and singing drifted through. He started with surprise. Could the Australians be operating a community school here? Upon inquiring with Qing Huan, he found it precisely so. His heart stirred with grudging acknowledgment: though an effortless undertaking, not everyone proved willing to attempt it.

The highlight of any Five Immortals Temple tour involved ascending the Number One Tower of Lingnan. Li Suiqiu had climbed the bell tower more than once previously, even hosting poetry gatherings there with teachers and friends. Yet this marked his first ascent since the Australians entered the city. He felt considerable emotion.

Upon reaching the summit, he discovered a portly Daoist already awaiting them, face beaming with welcome.

"Supreme Treasure of the Dao," the corpulent Daoist bowed. "Are you the Li brothers?"

"Indeed, your students." Li Suiqiu thought: as expected, he has appeared.

This was the "Australian Daoist" he had observed at several ritual activities. Reportedly a genuine baldy Elder as well. In Guangzhou he appeared to superintend both monks and Daoists alike.

Li Suiqiu possessed complete confidence: the moment he materialized at Five Immortals Temple, that Australian Daoist would certainly emerge to meet him. He was, after all, a celebrated scholar renowned throughout the South.

"This humble Daoist serves as Five Immortals Temple abbot, Supervisor of Guangzhou Five Immortals Temple—Cui Hantang. I have long admired your illustrious name."

Though Cui Hantang maintained a casual, fearless manner in most contexts, he exercised considerable care when engaging famous personages. This set him wholly apart from numerous Elders who either disdained or actively viewed celebrated figures from this timeline as enemies. The distinction likely stemmed from his appreciation for traditional culture, naturally inclining him favorably toward traditional celebrities. Moreover, regarding a renowned scholar and future national hero like Li Suiqiu, fan admiration operated automatically.

Cui Hantang studied the elegant, fair-complexioned, lightly bearded young gentleman before him, silently reflecting: according to the old timeline's history, within a dozen years this refined scholar would perish in battle at Ganzhou. Unimaginable that such a cultured gentleman could fearlessly abandon all comfort and die heroically! His admiration deepened, and his courtesy grew increasingly respectful.

Had any Elders witnessed Cui Hantang's demeanor at this moment, they would certainly have rebuked him for "losing his position" or "boot-licking the Ming remnants." Yet Cui Hantang's martial capabilities were not negligible, and ordinary Elders dared not openly mock him.

"You are too kind, too kind." Li Suiqiu returned the greeting. Inwardly he wondered: what angle does this hair-thief Daoist pursue? Why such deference toward me?

Regarding fame, he indeed possessed some reputation throughout Guangdong—for poetic talent. Beyond that, his moral essays proved unremarkable; merely an ordinary celebrity. He had long heard that Australians carried themselves with supreme arrogance, each claiming talents sufficient to govern heaven and earth. Forget contemporary great Confucians—even the Supreme Sage himself frequently received the contemptuous nickname "Old Kong Number Two" from them.

"Come, this humble Daoist has prepared pure tea. Please partake." Cui Hantang invited them to be seated upon the bell tower.

The policeman manning the observation post had been dismissed. English garden-style rattan furniture now occupied the space, accompanied by a complete set of Gongfu tea implements. Beside them sat a small wind stove, its iron kettle emitting rhythmic burbling as steam rose. A Daoist student tended the flames.

The rattan furniture presented nothing novel—Zicheng Shop had long sold complete sets, reportedly woven from Qiongzhou's red and white rattan, some incorporating iron frames, each piece exhibiting exotic flair. Quite popular among the city's wealthy households. Li Suiqiu's own family possessed several sets, positioned in the garden, study, and other locations.

As for the tea service and implements, he recognized them as "Gongfu tea" introduced by the Australians. The practice had first gained popularity at Zi Ming Lou, gradually becoming fashionable among prosperous families. Though Li Suiqiu refrained from following such trends, he had sampled it numerous times. Gongfu tea itself posed no rarity, yet it required Australian "Limu Mountain Oolong Tea"—especially the supreme grade "Frozen Peak," with its subtle orchid fragrance, commanded exorbitant prices. Tea merchants everywhere sought to penetrate the secret of "Limu Mountain Oolong Tea," but the Australians guarded it fiercely. Even dispatching agents to Qiongzhou yielded no results.

Li Suiqiu and his brother settled into their seats. Cui Hantang proceeded to rinse cups and scald vessels, brewing Gongfu tea with practiced precision. The three maintained silence, first drinking a complete round.

"Truly exceptional tea." Li Suiqiu tasted and recognized that Cui Hantang had offered the finest available—superior even to what he had sampled previously at Zi Ming Lou. Likely supplies reserved for the Elders, the genuine baldies.

Flattery operates regardless of context. Though Li Suiqiu's daily existence exceeded ordinary standards—born to local gentry, long accustomed to life's pleasures and courtesies—being respectfully entertained by these "pirate giants" rampaging through Guangdong and renowned throughout the realm still generated considerable satisfaction, irrespective of how thoroughly he inwardly resented their attempt to "usurp the throne."

"Excellent tea. Excellent tea." Li Suiqiu set down his cup.

"This represents tea specially supplied to the Council of Elders by the General Office—unavailable for purchase externally. Naturally it ranks among the finest." Cui Hantang reclined, his moon-round face wearing an ambiguous half-smile. "Brother Li's visit to our humble temple for incense brings... our humble temple... um... this... considerable radiance..."

Cui Hantang intended to exploit this opportunity either to win Li Suiqiu over, or at minimum cultivate some positive sentiment toward New Daoism and himself, facilitating future endeavors.

Within the Council of Elders, thoroughly divergent opinions existed regarding these historically famous Ming figures. Some advocated recruiting them for Council service, absorbing them into the system. Others pressed for their prompt elimination. Most Elders maintained indifference, neither advocating recruitment nor elimination—provided they remained home and refrained from causing disturbances.

Cui Hantang belonged firmly to the first faction. Naturally, he diverged somewhat from other like-minded Elders: he harbored certain personal ambitions, hoping to convert Li Suiqiu, the Peony Top Scholar, to New Daoism, then gradually draw in his teacher Chen Zizhuang and the Twelve Masters of Southern Garden one by one, thereby strengthening New Daoism's influence.

He had, of course, mentioned this scheme to no one, recognizing that voicing it would certainly provoke Council criticism: "consorting with gentry," "contaminating the ranks," and similar accusations.

Yet today his opening gambit fell immediately flat, earning Li Suiqiu's disdain: hair-thieves truly were crude barbarians incapable of even basic pleasantries.

Though thinking thus, Li Suiqiu responded courteously: "Not at all, not at all. Having leisure at home, and hearing Young Master Zhang intends to sponsor a blessing ritual at your esteemed temple, this student came to observe the proceedings."

Cui Hantang started, then grasped that Qing Jing must have visited the Li residence to solicit "participation." Silently praising the initiative as "well executed," he proceeded to describe the matchmaking and collective wedding at exhaustive, tedious length.

Li Suiqiu listened to him boast, yet it differed not at all from coverage in Sheep City Express. Observing this corpulent Daoist spitting while speaking, his language vulgar, his expression radiating smug satisfaction, Li Suiqiu felt secret distaste rising.

His cultivation proved excellent; he listened with impassive expression to this "official announcement." Then inquired slowly: "What the Daoist Master describes, this student has likewise read in the newspaper. This collective wedding certainly constitutes a worthy enterprise, providing widowers and widows with mutual support. It aligns well with the Council of Elders' professed mission to rescue all people from fire and water. Yet the realm currently writhes in turmoil. Countless commoners remain mired in fire and water. How does the Council of Elders propose to rescue them?"

Cui Hantang recognized that Li Suiqiu had arrived not merely prepared, but determined to proceed directly to substantive matters, dispensing with ornamental preliminaries.

In Li Suiqiu's assessment, matters like caring for widowers and widows represented minor undertakings. Since the Australians had invaded Guangdong, adopting a posture of contending for the Nine Provinces, he wished to examine what substance their grand ambition actually possessed.

For Cui Hantang, formulating an adequate response proved challenging. Fortunately, he had anticipated encountering similar questions when engaging Guangzhou's Confucian scholars.

"The realm's great situation—surely Master Meizhou perceives it more clearly than this humble Daoist." Cui Hantang spoke deliberately. "Honestly, the Ming's present predicament amounts to nothing beyond reversed timing, geography, and popular support."

"What meaning does that convey?" Li Suiqiu's interest quickened. Discussing national affairs and critiquing governance constituted intellectuals' favored pastime since antiquity. Cui Hantang's novel perspective immediately engaged his interest.

"Master Meizhou possesses broad learning. You doubtless know that since ancient times, those accomplishing great enterprises require both capability and fortune. As the saying holds: man proposes, heaven disposes. Heaven's will cannot be violated." Cui Hantang commenced with mystification. "What constitutes heaven's will? Discussing it appears abstruse; in reality, it largely results from human affairs—yet ordinary people accept it as given and pay no attention."