Volume Four: High Mountains and Flowing Water Chapter Thirty-Two: How Many Cycles of Reincarnation Are Mere Mortal Dust

In the search for freedom across the mortal realm, the shackles of destiny are omnipresent. Even the gods, enthroned on high, often lament their own lack of agency. Through countless cycles of reincarnation, Chen Chen has come to understand his true self. Sometimes he requires further tempering; other times, he seeks the experience of a complete life.

The collective will of all living beings often shapes the karmic encounters of Chen Chen. At times, it is people calculating for a modicum of wealth and status; at other times, it is those who genuinely disdain him or reject his arrival—treating him as a mere outsider, a stranger whose presence is unwelcome and whose existence is ultimately alien.

Chen Chen is reincarnated once more, and in this life, he is no longer a fragile soul without a physical form.

In his past lives, he has been many things. He was Chen Chen, gathering seven starlight points amidst the Fluorescent Planet, crying out to the Big Dipper to connect with the netherworld. He was Chen Chen, commanding battle formations against powerful foes on the Heavenly Martial Continent, gathering with distinguished friends, welcoming a beautiful bride, and challenging heroes from all directions in the Nine Provinces Grand Competition. He was Chen Chen, awakening from a meteorite to sever the illusions of his past lives before the Ghost Gate of the Underworld. He was Chen Chen, crawling up a great tree in a novice village, falling into a hazy slumber. He was Chen Chen, who purged the dragon’s domain of its entrenched evil, returning the land to purity. He was Chen Chen, who, in the breezes of an ancient city, unraveled old grievances and settled debt after debt. He was Chen Chen, who, while watching the sea from an ancient city, glimpsed the fleeting romance of the world; merely by appearing, he brought hidden evil forces to the surface, measuring the heights and depths of human nature beneath the clear, bright sky.

Beautiful stories continue to unfold, but Chen Chen does not die; he is not a man who would willingly accept such an end. His arrival is destined to illuminate the long night, and his presence will inevitably strike brilliant sparks against the greatness of the age.

Chen Chen is reincarnated again, from his first steps into the world to another decade passing. The gods continue their legacy day after day, enthroned in the clouds as if they have been seated there since time immemorial. Their virtues, their deeds, and their images are only now truly seen by the world.

Chen Chen is within a dream—a dream filled with the essence of masculine strength and the passage of time. The gods are laboring with all their might; a fierce, indomitable spirit radiates from them. Their survival is no easy task. They do not hold divine halos that allow them to remain idle, enjoying the offerings of mortals while seated on high. In that era, they faced the hardship of scarcity, overcoming obstacles to secure their sustenance and prolong their existence.

Chen Chen is but a passerby, observing this all within his dream. The desolation of that era, the hardships, and the state of a world waiting to be rebuilt—it was a time when even gods had to toil to survive. Chen Chen feels this atmosphere permeating his soul, and then, he is jolted from the dream.

He falls, plummeting through his vision, until he wakes abruptly on the reclining chair where he had been sleeping.

"Grandfather, save me!" Chen Chen flails his arms in the air, his legs kicking as if trying to grasp something to stop his descent.

"I am here, Grandfather is here!" The elderly man, past his middle years, is startled from his thoughts by the boy’s cry and rushes over to soothe him.

"Grandfather, there are gods! I saw gods in my dream!" Chen Chen, still trembling, exclaims as if he has discovered something miraculous.

In this life, he is still called Chen Chen. He lives with his grandfather, carrying scattered memories of his past lives, seeking his home, his roots, and his loved ones. Fortunately, in this life, he possesses the blessings earned in his previous ones.

"Really? You saw the gods? What did they look like? Did they resemble the divine statues I carve?" The old man asks repeatedly, wondering if his own vivid storytelling had invited a divine visitation, allowing Chen Chen to dream of the gods of old.

"No, they don't look like them. Those gods were like adults, so tall and imposing. Grandfather, the statues you carve are so small, they don't look like them at all," Chen Chen replies with innocent candor.

"Ha! There is a method to the work I carve. A great tree takes at least ten years to mature. Those immortals valued virtue and destiny above all else. In crafting these statues, I must ensure they do not overshadow the divine power and merit they possessed in life, yet they cannot be so small as to diminish their achievements. To scale them down in this way is just right; it preserves their dharma body without obscuring the legacies they built. They can exist freely while still protecting their descendants—the logic behind this is profound," the old man explains, his demeanor quite solemn.

"Oh..." Chen Chen responds, half-understanding.

Seeing the boy's lack of interest, the old man changes the subject: "Never mind! You wouldn't understand it anyway. Why don't you tell me how you knew those figures in your dream were gods?"

"I don't know, I just felt it. Those in the dream were gods; that was the aura they gave off. Just looking at them, I knew they were divine, filled with mystery and immense power. The things they did seemed like things only gods would strive to accomplish. I remember hearing a passage in the dream..." Chen Chen muses without hesitation: "It sounded like... 'Each contribution of the heavens has its merit, how... the earthly immortals are among them. With immeasurable virtue sown, a prosperous age is built together.'"

The old man is deeply astonished to hear these words. He says nothing more than a simple word of praise and ends the conversation. Following this, he arranges for Chen Chen to learn the craft of woodcarving.

As Chen Chen is still young, he begins by apprenticing under his grandfather. The old man, known to all as Elder Chen, dotes on his grandson. Having been an apprentice himself in his youth, and knowing of Chen Chen's interest, he speaks to the boy's parents to finalize the arrangement. Elder Chen hopes that, in time, his grandson will be able to make a living through this trade.

Now a boy of seven or eight, Chen Chen is tasked with attending school to learn to read and write while practicing carving on the side. Elder Chen finds this arrangement satisfactory, ensuring his grandson does not waste his childhood. Chen Chen, for his part, simply follows the path laid out for him. Diligent in his studies, he manages to stay ahead of his peers, showing steady progress.

Elder Chen, however, does not expect his young grandson’s talent to surpass his own decades of experience, yet he is determined to ensure his craft is passed on. He gives Chen Chen a carving knife early on to practice. As for his own son—Chen Chen’s father—Elder Chen had long ago given up on him, recognizing the man's aptitude lay elsewhere, and allowed him to pursue his own career.

"Chen Chen, come here. Take this scrap piece of wood and practice your carving. Be careful not to hurt your hands," Elder Chen says, handing him a remnant left over from a larger project. To the old man, who values the principle of turning waste into treasure, even a small scrap is precious.

Chen Chen takes the wood and begins to carve with focus. While the old man works on his own statue, Chen Chen uses his small blade to shape the scrap. By the time the old man has finished the rough draft of his figure, Chen Chen has completed his work—a small block with the rough outline of a head and a few notches for eyes, nose, and mouth. Elder Chen finds the result amusing; it is not even as refined as the trinkets he carves in his leisure time. Yet, he is pleased that the boy is familiarizing himself with the tools.

A flat chisel is a versatile tool, capable of creating a complete work on its own, which is why Elder Chen chose it as the boy's first instrument. Having produced a finished piece, Chen Chen is now officially a carving apprentice.

Relieved that his craft will have a successor, Elder Chen gifts him a round chisel as a sign of approval. He then leads Chen Chen to burn incense before the statue of Lu Ban, the patron saint of carpenters, formally inducting him into the trade.

As the days pass, Chen Chen uses his tools to carve increasingly recognizable human forms. When he finally produces a complete silhouette, Elder Chen rewards him with a slanted chisel. By now, Chen Chen possesses three tools, an impressive feat for one so young.

He continues his life, balancing his role as a student at school and an apprentice at home. He does not bring his tools to school, choosing to focus on his studies there. Growing up surrounded by art, Chen Chen begins to exhibit a scholarly, refined temperament. His soul is steeped in the essence of his craft, though his skills remain at the level of technique; he has yet to reach the stage of the "Dao."

The craft of the carpenter, passed down since the time of Lu Ban, continues its long journey through history. The custom of burning incense to honor the ancestors is a tradition even older than the trade itself, a sign of gratitude and respect for those who came before. It is a path that asks the apprentice to remember their roots, to honor the masters, and to accept the inheritance of a lifetime of skill.