The sunset was not somber but rather brilliantly red, casting its splendid hue across buildings and people alike, giving off a subtle mix of pink and golden light. 1

Qian An, aged seventy-five, appeared remarkably youthful for his years. Clad in a traditional practice garment and holding ancient scrolls, he exuded an air of detachment from worldly concerns.0

Behind him stood a Daoist temple of modest size. Every brick and tile resonated with an ancient charm, bathed in a pale golden aura under the twilight sky. The temple, nestled amidst the mundane world, radiated a celestial aura.1

Greeting Chen Yongjie and Wang Xuan with a warm smile, Qian An ushered them into the temple. "As one ages, the pursuit becomes less about worldly matters and more about inner peace," he remarked, his expression serene.0

Nodding, Old Chen responded, "Indeed, ultimately, we all seek tranquility of the heart, though the journey varies. Some achieve their life's goals and retire to a pastoral life, finding solace in nature. Others face constant setbacks and hardships, struggling amidst life's turmoil, only to ultimately seek the same stillness of the heart."0

With a chuckle, he added, "Old Qian, you are among the former, having attained a state of contentment. I, on the other hand, am still struggling in the worldly dust, unable to break free."0

Qian An shook his head, "Old Chen, if I were in your shoes, I'd gladly trade places. The notion of inner peace is often a self-deception. If I were...0