Watching the Heart on a Gushan Mountain

Sixteen years ago, in the cold fog of late winter, on the Bluestone Ridge, an old hunter picked up an abandoned baby. No father, no mother, no name, no surname, wrapped in shabby swaddling clothes, neither crying nor fussing, only opening a pair of eyes as calm as a pool. For sixteen years in Gushan, I didn't study, I didn't know how to read, I didn't learn the rules of the world. Only practice one method - observe all things quietly and reflect the world with your heart. Look at the sky and know the timing of wind and clouds. Observe the water and understand that softness overcomes strongness. Observe animals and distinguish between life and death, strength and weakness. Observe people and break the hypocritical heart. On the day his master returned to the mountain, he learned about his life experience: The orphan of a destroyed family, a blood feud that filled the whole family overnight. From then on, the young man went down the mountain. Don't enter the world of mortals, don't fall into traps, don't be angry and self-evident, don't speak for yourself. The machinations and intrigues of the world and the evil spirits in the human heart are all visible to him. I observe quietly, and there is no situation in the world. I will slowly settle all the accounts in this world one by one.