CDJMM – Volume 3 – Chapter 3 Compassion of the Buddha (3)

Even though the one sitting cross-legged on the ground was just a dirty little beggar, Mei Yingliang didn’t dare show the slightest disrespect.

Only ignorant mortals judge by outward appearances and make the mistake of judging a person by their looks.

In the cultivation world, everything is determined by strength. As long as you’re strong enough, even if you look like a snot-nosed kid, the white-bearded elders will still call you “senior.” 

Besides… this little beggar might look like a child, but who knew if he was actually an old monster who had lived for hundreds of years, merely cultivating himself back into a youthful appearance?

Most importantly… how should he put it…

Although Mei Yingliang himself was a cultivator, he still couldn’t help wanting to quietly curse: cultivators are all lunatics! And the stronger they are, the crazier they get.

Mei Yingliang belonged to Linqing Sect, the largest cultivation sect within several hundred li. Because his talent was limited, he was only an outer disciple—yet even that was enough to make countless people envy him.

When he first joined the sect at around fourteen or fifteen, he was inexperienced. On his first day, he witnessed an old beggar steal his senior brother’s money pouch. He immediately shouted to stop him, snatched the pouch back, and then scolded that old beggar harshly.

Then… he was beaten flat, unable to fight back at all, by that enraged old beggar.

His senior brother also yelled at him. In the end, he nearly got punished with seclusion for “insulting an elder.”

That’s right—the old beggar was actually an elder of Linqing Sect, highly skilled, straightforward, loyal, and righteous…

He just had one small problem: he liked pretending to be a beggar, begging for food, and stealing things.

If he didn’t steal something for a day, he’d get itchy and uncomfortable. But he had “rules”—he only stole for three days, and after he got it out of his system, he’d return everything.

The sect master and disciples were all aware of this quirk and didn’t try to control him. In fact, to earn his favor, even if disciples knew he had stolen something, they would pretend not to know.

This was a silent, unspoken rule within Linqing Sect—

And it was Mei Yingliang, the clueless newcomer, who exposed it. No wonder his senior brother was furious.

Back then, he naively thought that elder was the only eccentric. But after seeing more of the world, he realized—it wasn’t just that elder. The entire cultivation world was full of lunatics!

He had seen a female cultivator who transformed into a man on her wedding night just to “see what it felt like.”

He’d seen a naked, streaking bigshot being chased for a thousand miles by his master. He’d heard rumors of a Daoist grandmaster who shaved himself bald just to count how many hairs he originally had…

Eventually, Mei Yingliang enlightened himself—

The reason he was only a third-rate cultivator was definitely because he was too normal and not crazy enough!

Truly, morals were declining, the world was changing—

These days, a cultivator without at least one bizarre quirk didn’t even dare brag in public.

So in Mei Yingliang’s eyes, the little beggar in front of him had a very familiar vibe. This kind of eccentric aura made him feel strangely at home.

He had personally heard the little beggar’s earlier fortune-telling—every word was precise, not a hint of fluff. Even his master couldn’t do that.

His master was the direct disciple of the Ge Wu Peak Master—one of Linqing Sect’s seven peak masters—and was well-known for his mind-boggling divination skills, seen as the future peak master.

Their Ge Wu line cultivated through calculation—calculating heaven and earth, the fates of all beings, rise and fall, understanding all things, peering into the heavenly secrets, and thereby walking the Dao.

Even though his master’s divinations were accurate, he still needed tools or hand seals and required some time.

But this little beggar?

Mei Yingliang had watched carefully—he didn’t prepare anything, didn’t use any tools, yet accurately read those children’s pasts and even predicted the little chubby boy’s future flawlessly.

He even clearly calculated the sins committed by the boy’s father.

This level of ability was not something ordinary cultivators possessed.

In his eyes, the boy was likely a reborn old monster wandering the mortal world for fun—

Just like their crazy beggar elder who enjoyed disguising himself to “experience life.” Different people, different hobbies.

To meet such a bigshot in person made Mei Yingliang both excited and honored. He happened to be stuck in a predicament. Who knew if this encounter was his fate? Even a few words of guidance from a powerful senior could benefit him endlessly.

So he eagerly came forward to greet him and strike up a connection.

But first—he needed to know the senior’s sect so he could build rapport based on lineage.

After he asked, he waited a few seconds and noticed the senior had said nothing—instead, the little beggar was staring at him strangely.

He thought for a moment and suddenly realized—

He hadn’t even introduced himself!

How rude and reckless!

So he quickly remedied it:

“Junior Mei Yingliang, outer disciple of Linqing Sect, disciple of Realman Nan Feng of Ge Wu Peak. I descended to the mortal world to cut off worldly ties. I encountered Senior here and was deeply moved, so I rashly came forward to greet you. Please forgive me.”

Cutting worldly ties was the most important step in cultivation. Only by severing all mortal karmic bonds—repaying kindness from parents, friends, spouse, and removing all attachments—could one pursue the Dao without distractions.

If this step succeeded, future cultivation would be smooth.

If not, heart demons would grow and block the Dao forever.

Mei Yingliang’s current predicament was that he once owed a friend’s kindness, yet no matter where he searched, he couldn’t find that friend. Without repaying it, he could not sever his worldly ties—this would become a heart demon.

So when he saw the powerful fortune-telling senior, he got excited, thinking he might get help locating his friend.

But after hearing everything, the boy just stared at him even more strangely before slowly asking:

“…You said you came down to sever worldly ties? Does that mean… you’re an immortal?”

Mei Yingliang forced a laugh: “Senior jests. I’ve only just built my foundation.”

“So you’re… a cultivator?”

Forced to meet those eerie, strange eyes, Mei Yingliang hesitated but nodded.

The boy thought for a few seconds, then made an unexpected request:

“Prove it. Show me proof that you’re a cultivator.”

Even Mei Yingliang, dense as he was, now felt something was wrong.

He had rashly assumed the senior was here experiencing mortal life, but he’d ignored another possibility—

This senior might be cultivating through entering the mortal world.

Those who cultivated “entering the world” were far older monsters, walking a different path toward ascension. Their personalities were far more bizarre—also known as extremely crazy.

There was a famous swordsman from Tian Dao Sect who, to “enter the world,” traveled the mortal realm forging free swords for people every year, exchanging old swords for new ones the next year.

He repeated this cycle for ten years, gathering one hundred thousand swords—without touching a blade once in those ten years.

Then he burned all one hundred thousand swords for three days and three nights. From the ashes, a divine sword emerged—the sword “Severing the Mortal Dust.”

He became a Sword Immortal. His sword severed worldly dust, cut through karma.

Thus the saying spread among mortals: “The shortcut to entering the world is: act like a ghost, act like a fool.”

So the little beggar’s strange behavior suddenly made complete sense. He must be playing a beggar to cultivate through worldly experience!

By exposing him, Mei Yingliang might have ruined his cultivation. The senior might kill him in anger!

Thinking of how he had foolishly revealed his name and lineage…

Mei Yingliang felt his vision go dark. He couldn’t escape now.

So—there was only one option left.

“I’m crazy. Everything I said just now was nonsense. Cultivator? No such thing. Don’t believe me. Really, don’t believe me.”

Mei Yingliang slowly backed away and forced a smile. “Uh… I have things to do, so I’ll be going. Fr—little beggar.”

Le Jing: “……”

What the old guy had said was absurd, but Le Jing actually believed some of it.

His eyes were already supernatural. Now being told this was a cultivation world felt… oddly reasonable.

He didn’t know what the old guy had imagined in such a short time—

First treating him as a senior, then suddenly denying everything and trying to flee.

But Le Jing couldn’t let him go.

If he missed this knowledgeable person, who knew when he’d meet another cultivator to explain the world?

“…Weren’t you looking for someone?” Le Jing narrowed his eyes. He strained his vision and finally caught a faint image from Mei Yingliang’s body—just a residue of karmic echo, but enough.

“I might know where he is.”

This man was a cultivator—that explained why Le Jing couldn’t see his karma earlier. Even just glimpsing his desire to find someone took Le Jing ages, staring until his eyes were sore.

Mei Yingliang froze mid-step. His expression clearly wavered.

He hesitated and quietly asked: “…What price do I need to pay?”

The boy stood up, patted off the dust, ran in front of him, grabbed his sleeve, and looked up with an innocent smile:“First, buy me a meal.
As for the price…
We’ll talk slowly.”