Volume Ⅰ Chapter 10 – Blob Translations
www.blobtranslations.com
Muchun Zhenren had taken it for granted that his decision was perfect – his first apprentice was highly fickle although he always looked on the brighter side of things; while the little apprentice was prone to split hairs despite his calmness. It couldn’t be better if the two busters could complement each other.
Unfortunately, it turned out they were going to explode before complementing each other.
Muchun Zhenren had no choice but to separate them by force. He asked a Taoist child to take Cheng Qian to have a bath and change his clothes, for he was sweaty from practicing swordplay. Then he zeroed in on his tough first apprentice by droning dully the Scriptures on Clarity and Stillness again.
Their master’s chanting was the living representation of an “eyesore and earsore”. With the figure of a weasel and the voice of a duck quacking, he resoundingly stilled the running sandglass, and irritated his first apprentice who almost rose to bite his master murderously.
Yan Zhengming’s forbearance was driven beyond its limits. He threw the graver onto the desk and raged, “Master, what are you doing?”
“You are uncalm. I am chanting to rest your mind.” His master answered without even lifting his eyelids.
When the chant was paining Yan Zhengming, Cheng Qian returned. Yan Zhengming finally got an opportunity to unleash his vexation. He sniffed and shouted, “You incensed his clothes with sandalwood? What’s wrong with you? Is he going to become a monk?”
The Taoist child meekly mumbled “yes, yes”. He was too afraid to say Cheng Qian wanted that incense.
“Change the incense to hibiscus –” Yan Zhengming yelled at him.
“– the heaven is active; the earth is calm…” Muchun Zhenren’s voice grew even louder.
His voice was like the crunch that sew the timber, which made Yan Zhengming go hot under the collar. “Master! I am not uncalm!”
Muchun lifted his eyelids and said in a placid manner, “You’re uncalm so you will be disturbed by external things, and care about whatever the incense. Don’t take your third junior brother as a censer. – How about this? To assist you with your cultivation, I move to your Land of the Tender today and chant all night for you.”
Yan Zhengming: “…”
The old weasel had an addiction to chanting, so he definitely meant it. Could he possibly live to see tomorrow if the weasel really chanted all night long?
Yan Zhengming was forced to swallow his anger and sat back. Enduring the incense of sandalwood which smelled like rotten wood to him, he picked up the graver indignantly and began carving vertical lines in the wood as though whipping a corpse.
The “censer” Cheng Qian sat down silently to continue his homework, with the feeling that he was sitting next to an irritable big rabbit.
Their master had assessed Han Yuan as flighty and impulsive, but he definitely proved no match for Yan Zhengming. At least Han Yuan’s being flighty affected nobody else, while Yan Zhengming would always involve everyone around him.
Cheng Qian started to see the benefits of being with first senior brother – there was a distinct contrast.
Once Cheng Qian got serious, he could break away from the external disturbance. He carefully imitated the calligraphy from his memory, and soon became engrossed in the fun of writing. Bound in the smell of sandalwood, which seemed to have the effects of smoothing the nerves, Cheng Qian gradually brushed aside his composure-lacking first senior brother.
