Immortal Dao is dead, I am the mastermind behind it all.

Afan listened to these words.

After he recovered from his injury, he really did go to school.

The teacher taught him to recognize the three characters for Heaven, Earth, and Man, and said: "As Heaven's movement is ever vigorous, so should a gentleman constantly strive for self-improvement."

Afan, dressed in coarse linen clothes, clumsily held a brush and repeatedly wrote these words on the rice paper. As the ink spread, he suddenly remembered the cloud patterns he had seen above the clouds.

It turns out that the principles of heaven and earth are also hidden in Yingchong's writings.

His classmates laughed at him for being stupid, saying he couldn't even learn how to hold a pen properly. But he didn't get discouraged. He was the first to arrive at school every day and the last to leave. His knuckles developed calluses, and finally he was able to write neat characters.

He read about mountains and rivers, and about all aspects of human life in books, and gradually gained a clearer understanding of the general nature of human existence.

Yingchong, no, it's the human race.

Humans have no wings, yet they can measure the world with words and travel the world on foot.

The teacher told him that knowledge gained from books is ultimately superficial, and Afan deeply agreed.

Later, he left the school, bid farewell to the old woman, and followed a peddler to learn how to do business.

The peddler took him from south to north, exchanging silk for grain and porcelain for medicine.

They encountered bandits and famines along the way. The peddler once fought with bandits to protect a cart of relief grain, while Afan swept away bandits in the mountain stronghold, displaying great prowess.

During the drought, the peddler gave his meager water to the displaced people by the roadside.

Afan was puzzled by this, but he respected it.

Spending the night in a dilapidated temple, the peddler said to him, "Young man, doing business isn't just about making money; you have to understand people's hearts and know their joys and sorrows."

"Doing business is the same as being a person. In the past, merchants avoided the expensive when the price was low, the long when the price was small, the heavy when the price was light, and the coming when the price was going. They sought good fortune and avoided misfortune in order to make money."

"If you treat others well, they will trust you. In this world, the most important thing is integrity."

Afan seemed to understand but not quite. He was wearing a short jacket and enjoying the refreshing feeling of the rainy night in the temple.

Later, as his fame grew, he joined a local chamber of commerce.

The chamber of commerce passed by a field, where everyone lit a bonfire and sang and danced on the wasteland.

Afan, dressed in luxurious brocade robes, was invited to dance by the daughter of the merchant guild owner.

The flickering flames and the figures of the people around him shimmered in his eyes.

Under the firelight, Afan gradually became engrossed in his work.

Humans are a fragile and short-lived species, just like sparrows. Why don't they get nervous when their lifespan is approaching?

He once thought that freedom meant flying, but now, walking on the earth, running, and dancing are just as free ways to live.

Later, he was recommended for an official position.

The place he took office in was a county town prone to floods, where the people suffered greatly.

After thoroughly investigating the local conditions, Afan suddenly remembered the phrase "to establish a life for the people" that he had read in school, and the displaced people he had seen when he was doing business.

He has no wings and cannot summon wind and rain like a divine bird, but he has the ability to build a dike for the people with his own hands and protect the peace of the region.

He donned his official robes and led the people in repairing dikes and digging irrigation canals. He spent his days soaking in mud and water and his nights drawing blueprints for the dikes under the lamplight.

He later discovered that the flood was caused by a malevolent dragon.

When Afan first activated his magic, he tried to use spells to secretly kill the dragon.

He was surprised during the process, not expecting himself to be so strong that he could capture the dragon with a single palm without any effort.

When the dragon died and the dam was repaired, the people beat drums and gongs, and news of Afan's achievements spread throughout the countryside. Everyone praised him as a just and upright official.

Looking at the bustling world, Afan smiled brightly, but when he thought that these humans on average did not live past forty, he felt something burning in his heart, and his smile gradually faded.

That winter, he resigned from his official post and returned to the seaside village where he had fallen from grace.

The old woman had long since passed away, but the small house still stood, covered in dust.

He sat in the woodshed, watching the tides rise and fall outside the window, and thought about his experiences over the years.

From a slow learner in school to a peddler's apprentice, a merchant who traveled across the land, and finally an official who spoke up for the people and guarded a region.

Afan stood by the window of the woodshed, twirling a rough thread that had fallen from his old clothes between his fingers, and recalled the beautiful silk he had seen at the market yesterday.

Suddenly, his fingers trembled.

When he was traveling as a merchant, the brocade robe embroidered with cloud patterns on the merchant guild shimmered softly in the sunlight, and it was somewhat similar to the feathers of the phoenix in his memory.

He suddenly laughed.

The phoenix's crimson feathers can dye the clouds, and the Kunpeng's giant wings can obscure the sun and moon.

When it was a sparrow, it envied the phoenix's magnificent tail feathers. After shedding its feathers and becoming a mortal, it longed to grow wings again, believing that only wings could carry it to the heavens.

But after all these years of wandering in the mortal world, he no longer needs wings.

The teacher in the school wore a faded long gown, yet he could expound on the principles of heaven and earth with just a pen. Although the gown was simple, it carried his knowledge like wings, spreading the principle of "heaven's movement is ever vigorous" far and wide, and even influencing Afan's thoughts.

The old peddler I met while doing business, wearing a patched short jacket, was able to travel all over the country with his goods, keeping a sincere heart, protecting the disaster relief grain from being taken away by bandits, and distributing water to the refugees.

The official robes that Afan wore when he was an official were like wings supporting his responsibilities, ensuring the peace and safety of the land.

To wear human clothes and hats, to carry feathers on a bird's back.

Afan raised his hand and touched the coarse cloth clothes he was wearing. The fabric was rough but clung to his body.

He suddenly realized that feathers and clothing originated from the same source.

Wings are never just about feathers.

Back then, he was obsessed with growing wings and feathers, but he didn't understand the true meaning of transcending the mortal realm.

To transcend the mundane, one must first become mundane.

Understanding the ways of the world, knowing the ups and downs of life, entering the mortal realm, and rising again from it, the world remains untainted to me.

The feathers of ordinary birds are magnificent, for the sake of riding the wind, for freedom, and for soaring through the clouds.

Ordinary people wear fine clothes and riches to cover their bodies, to express their aspirations, and to establish themselves in the world.

The moment his mind was completely clear, a burning sensation came from his back, but it was no longer the expected growth of feathers. Instead, a warm power flowed through his meridians and into his limbs and bones.

Afan didn't grow wings, but when he stepped out of the woodshed, his body floated up naturally with a light step.

It wasn't his wings that propelled him, but rather the feathered robe that covered his body.

At this moment, he could freely circulate his magical power.

The magic moves at will, and the many spells conceived in his mind were cast with a natural and fluid grace.

Transforming into wings and into a feathered garment are essentially the same thing; there's no need to be fixated on the form of the feathers.

The wind swept past him, carrying the sea breeze and the smoke from the village chimneys.

With his robes fluttering, Afan looked down at the blue bricks and gray tiles beneath his feet and suddenly felt that he was more at ease now than when he spread his wings in the wilderness of Cangwu.

He smiled and spread his arms wide, just like he had spread his wings in the clouds back then. His coarse cloth clothes fluttered gently in the wind, and they really did seem to lift him up into the unseen sky.

As he passed through the clouds, the sunlight shone on him. There was no dazzling golden feathers, but he exuded a pure and otherworldly aura.

No need to transform into feathers, the garment itself is feathers.

No need to climb wings, the heart itself is the wing.

Shedding the mortal body, forming the Dharma body, and transforming into feathered robes, this is how it should be.

…………

Shen Moyan finally walked all the steps of the pilgrimage and looked up at the stone tablet.

Looking at the totem that transformed from a sparrow into a human, and its feathers into clothing, soaring straight into the blue sky, Shen Moyan couldn't help but smile slightly.

"If I spread the Dharma to all living beings, what skills will I receive?"