The wide robe and crane cloak flutter in the breeze, Why compare the righteous with the unrighteous, please? Praising virtues and merits disturbs the sweet dream, Whisking dust and sweeping earth disrupts the serene theme.
In Petalfall Hamlet lived a Daoist. He had taken his vows last and was the youngest, and thus, the grandmaster doted on him. He, too, was glad to wait on the grandmaster at all times. If the grandmaster extended a hand, he served tea. If the grandmaster lifted a foot, he removed his shoe. He swatted flies, fanned the breeze, made the bed, and tidied the covers- quick and thorough in his duties. The grandmaster favored him greatly.
His fellow disciples burned with jealousy, but they couldn't stoop to such fawning. They could only speak ill of him behind his back and bully him to vent their ire.
One day, the grandmaster held a test to assess his disciples' learning. When it was the turn of the youngest, he decided to be lenient with him. He only asked him to recite a passage from the scripture of Dao De Jing. The young disciple put on a smug face and chanted in a loud, clear voice: "The Dao produced One One, produced Two Two, produced Three Three, produced all thing....
The other disciples had long awaited this moment, and their wish was finally granted. They roared with laughter and even stole glances at the grandmaster to see his reaction. The grandmaster, furious, stormed off in a huff. The other disciples then warned the young one, "You've committed a grave blunder and incited his anger today. Don't dream of learning any solid skills from him now."
After that incident, the grandmaster shunned the youngest disciple. But then he found he had no one to wait on him properly. Over time, he reminisced about the young disciple's attentiveness. Before long, the disciple was summoned to serve him again. But when he saw the disciple's disinterest in Daoist learning, his aversion returned. One day, the young disciple implored the grandmaster to teach him some skills, and the grandmaster took the fly-swatting, fan-waving motions the boy did each day and made them into a set of moves. Who knows if it was meant as sarcasm? In the end, he taught the boy those moves and wind-wielding techniques, and that was all the boy could hope for.