Volume Four: High Mountains and Flowing Water Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Rare Moment of Leisure

Busy studies, complex interpersonal relationships, and the friends and family one relies on for survival—Chen Chen treads carefully as he accumulates his life in the human world. His studies provide him with knowledge, while his relationships grant him experience and perspective.

In the human realm, a fascinating drama unfolds every day, and the strength of individuals is tested at every turn. Money easily intoxicates, while friends and soulmates remain by one's side. Character and merit define the affairs of the world, and deep affections accompany one through life.

Chen Chen has begun a routine of morning exercises and the cultivation of his martial arts. To survive in the human world, a single moment of carelessness could cost one’s life; it is a reality both practical and cruel. Every step is vital, and every step is a test measuring his ability to continue forward.

Chen Chen wakes early for his morning workout, arriving at the square to loosen his muscles. He starts by playing music on his phone, stands firmly, and slowly begins his movements. It looks like the opening of Tai Chi, but it is not Tai Chi in the true sense. As his fists rise, the wind stirs; as his intent arises, there are no fixed forms. His movements follow his spirit, and his intent transcends self and others. His style is a debate of hard and soft, a constant transformation of form.

The uniqueness of "Xingyi" (Form-Intent) boxing is evident here, though Chen Chen has never systematically studied its forms or patterns. Initially, as he practiced, it seemed like the silk-reeling energy of Tai Chi, then like Tai Chi's free-form techniques, then like Seven-Star Boxing, only for him to realize in the end that it was none of these. He was simply striking out his own form and his own intent; it was a Xingyi boxing belonging only to him. It was a product of his own improvisation, moving and acting according to the music and his whims. Because this method was created following his own heart and mind, he called it Xingyi boxing—distinct from the styles created by others in the past. He did it merely for health, for a better body. Since his actions had intent and his movements had form, he reluctantly called it Xingyi boxing.

Ancient boxing systems have evolved over time, and systematic versions of Xingyi, complete with established routines, have existed. Chen Chen did not wish to borrow from them; it is said that most boxing styles are learned from teachers or passed down from ancestors. Chen Chen’s self-created style moves with his heart, and as long as it brings him health, he is content. After this, he begins his day.

Old Chen still provides Chen Chen with regular living expenses. By middle and high school, Chen Chen has already left the carving workshop where he once worked. Chen Chen's parents are still alive, but due to certain reasons, he rarely has the opportunity to see them. It is another Sunday, and Chen Chen has returned to his hometown. He goes back to his old house, the vacant home left behind by his parents.

Chen Chen sits cross-legged on his bed, practicing in concentration; meditation is one of his favorite ways to cultivate himself. Sometimes, with a blink of his eyes, the illusions of the world vanish, and everything around him fades into darkness. At other times, it is his consciousness—this life form—confronting the world alone. His heart beats, perceiving all things in the world; that is his most precious freedom and detachment.

His soul wanders through the three thousand great worlds, and his intent returns to the land of the traveler. Having learned a measure of carefree wisdom, he understands that the truth is found within himself. It is time again for Chen Chen to meditate and reflect on the Great Way; he must live well in this human world. In stillness, he reflects on his faults; in stillness, his soul wanders in all directions, completely obedient to his own heart, completely immersed in the void. He cultivates the "Supreme Non-Action," cultivating an intent that reaches the heavens. The three thousand paths are nameless; one simply practices, and in practicing, one finds one's way.

After the past is left behind, all the right and wrong, the merits and demerits, remain in yesterday. Discernment of one's past and present is a form of strength, and the feeling of the "Supreme Non-Action" is a form of cultivation. In the busy human world, there are many methods of transcendence and liberation, yet few can truly settle their hearts to cultivate their bodies, unswayed by external objects and undisturbed by heaven and earth.

Inner cultivation concerns essence, energy, and spirit: the spirit dwells within, the energy circulates through the body, and the essence is stored in the organs. These three form a unified, strong, and healthy physical vessel. Outer cultivation involves heaven, earth, and humanity; the Great Way is omnipresent, and the universe functions in perfect harmony. The vast earth is boundless, capable of sustaining the growth of crops and the free movement of those who walk upon it. It accommodates the towering mountains and the constant flux of worldly affairs.

Humanity, however, is the hardest to cultivate. One might say individuals are easy to get along with, yet each possesses an independent personality, a unique life, and their own strengths and weaknesses. One might say their lives are meaningless, yet they persist in this world, living according to their own subjective consciousness. Sometimes they have power, sometimes they have purpose, and sometimes, they are simply themselves. After returning to simplicity, one is left with a head, two arms, and two legs—a physical body in the human world.

Cultivating human connections is a complex web of mutual generation and restriction, harm and punishment, love and hatred, subtraction and assistance. The rules of the human game are countless, and the cycles of sentient beings' joys and sorrows are endless. When Chen Chen awakens from his meditation and opens his eyes, his body, soul, and intent are once again one, grounded in the world. He is hungry and in urgent need of nutrition. While meditating, his soul had traveled elsewhere—he had seen the profound void, the brilliant stars, the endless earth, and the boundless sea, before his intent returned.

Chen Chen rises from the floor, paces a few times in his room, and then steps outside to seek the necessities for survival.

The human world is a beautiful place, filled with ordinary life. Having walked through thousands of mountains and rivers and tasted all sorts of delicacies, one only then realizes that life has reached a point of poverty. Do not think that survival comes without a cost; there is no such thing as a free lunch. Even if one were to reach the King of Hell, only as a wealthy and powerful ghost would one be treated with respect.

Chen Chen lives in this world and has many needs that require money. Even ten thousand taels of gold would eventually be spent. How many can earn money as fast as they can spend it? Chen Chen buys a small loaf of bread at a shop and washes it down with a bottle of mineral water. His day ends, finally satisfied with a meager meal.

Chen Chen urgently needs to navigate the human world; he has little free time, and his resources are limited. Sometimes, even walking a few steps consumes energy. Chen Chen has a long road ahead. Although life is difficult, the myriad states of existence, the three thousand illnesses of life, old age, and death, are all hidden within this world.

The day reaches noon. Chen Chen steps out of his home; beyond the door lies the bustle of traffic, the green hills and clear waters, and the shimmering light. Chen Chen has attained a rare moment of freedom, returning home from his confined school life. He goes where he can breathe fresh air, to the world outside to broaden his horizons and feel the beauty and gifts of nature.

Chen Chen climbs a high mountain, where the rocks are rugged and strange. Water flows from the heights, and amidst the beautiful scenery, he muses: "The mountain is high with no one to build upon it; the green water flows on, accompanying you without a care." Chen Chen scales a great boulder, hundreds of feet high. Looking into the distance, he sees white clouds drifting and the green landscape of his home in the human world.

Chen Chen has traversed the years, walking along paths paved over long periods—roads that are the hard work of generations. Life is not devoid of beauty; the world has many poor people, poor in the sense of lacking. Lacking the wisdom to face the difficulties before them, lacking the strength to handle life’s challenges, lacking the connections to build a career, and lacking the money to measure the efforts of life.

The world still holds many moments of destitution; moving forward requires many resources and much time. To keep going requires a strong mindset and a heavy price. Moving forward, though the future may be blurred, is a mixture of bitterness, spice, and sourness—all the varied affairs of the human world, each step a blend of hardship and sweetness. In the years to come, there will be more moments of feeling alone in this world.

So much helplessness, so much emotion, so much reflection on where one stands. Born into this world, there are no great gifts; everything has a cost, and everything must be paid for, because all toil in this world is eventually rewarded. Those things they tell you are "free"—you simply do not know what price you are truly paying.