Wanted to Move a Mountain

Cui Chan suddenly smiled. "I put away those three Golden Essence copper coins from Immortal's Grave for you long ago."

It was an answer, from far across the years, to the words "one lamp lights a dark room of a thousand years." It was also an Immortal Hand that had brought about "though the light is extinguished, the lamp and its stand remain."

On the road through life, good deeds might differ in size, and one might even question whether they were genuine. But a pure heart of goodness had no higher or lower rank.

For no apparent reason, Cui Chan recalled a passage: "For a gentleman nurturing his heart, nothing surpasses sincerity. Attain perfect sincerity, and nothing else remains to be done. Hold fast to benevolence, let righteousness rise and change with the times—this is called Heavenly Virtue."

In just two short sentences, it laid bare three great matters: sincerity of heart, steadfast benevolence, and Heavenly Virtue.

It was only that the old scholar had taught so many principles and said so many fine things that, buried among them, this passage had seemed less remarkable.

Back when the old scholar was unknown in the streets and alleys, he had repeated those words countless times to the student who had first shared his hard life. In the end, after much effort, he got them and his other teachings onto pages that smelled faintly of fresh ink, printed them as a book, and sold his writing for money. At the time, even the old scholar wondered whether the bookseller had water in his head, to agree to print a bellyful of such untimely notions. In truth, the bookseller was certain the book would not sell and he would lose money. Only after someone had talked himself hoarse, and the future Sage