Chapter 30: Clues
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“Glug…”
The old monk stirred the boiling water with a wooden stick. Several golden tea leaves, their veins sharply defined, churned in the water, turning it a bright amber and filling the air with a rich, bitter fragrance.
Leaves from the terrestrial treasure tree known as the Buddha-Heart Tea Tree.
“Master, how is this ancient seal script pronounced? What does it mean?”
Chen Xuan squatted on the ground and used a twig to scratch out a crooked, twisted character, humbly seeking instruction from the old monk.
The old monk lowered his head to look. After patiently explaining its meaning, he asked in puzzlement, “If you do not know these characters, how were you able to write them?”
He was inwardly astonished. These seal characters dated back to antiquity and had long since fallen out of use in the ancient Chu Kingdom. Had the Hanging Temple not studied the ancient beast Yonghe in its early years and preserved numerous ancient texts, he would never have had the chance to encounter such characters.
“I was just scribbling randomly. I never expected it to actually be a character.”
Chen Xuan babbled an excuse, then wrote another ancient seal character on the ground.
“This isn’t another ancient seal character, is it…? Ha, it really is a character. What a coincidence…”
The old monk’s face filled with helplessness.
What coincidence? Could this fellow be some ancient sage who had invented writing?
The qi cultivators outside the temple truly were shameless liars. They were beyond saving.
In the distance, the severely wounded young monk crouched on the ground, holding a wooden bowl. He kept smiling apologetically at Chen Xuan, making it clear that he knew he had done wrong.
Chen Xuan was beginning to feel uneasy under his gaze. He thought all these monks were completely deranged.
He had taken a kick from the monk Kongwen and was in grave danger. Now he could only wait for the precious tea broth to heal his wounds and preserve his life.
Before long, the tea was ready, and a group of qi cultivators with “rotten lives” eagerly gathered around.
Chen Xuan received a bowl of the precious tea water.
Only a single golden tea leaf floated within it, gleaming brilliantly and releasing a pure fragrance. Just breathing it in made one feel refreshed and clear-minded, almost as though enlightenment were within reach.
The portion was small, but it was still exceedingly precious—and there would be some every day.
The old monk distributing the tea water looked at the qi cultivators with an imploring expression and urged them softly, “Having drunk this precious tea, please show some restraint. Our Hanging Temple bears no ill will toward any of you…”
Chen Xuan did not think much of it.
After all, one’s mouth was softened by what one ate, and he was not the sort to cause trouble without reason.
The other qi cultivators, however, merely sneered.
The burly man gave a cold laugh. “One rotten tea leaf, and you think you can fob us off? Are you worried about your treasures? Please, let us into the Southern Wilderness… I’ll find the heavenly treasures myself. Then I won’t have to put up with your damned attitude!”
The middle-aged Daoist shouted sternly, “My Dao-heart is as true as iron!”
“If you trust us, you can simply let us leave. We absolutely will not interfere with the Hanging Temple’s affairs,” another qi cultivator repeatedly assured him.
“But I cannot make such a promise. I have loved women since I was a child. For the sake of a beautiful woman, I could even disown my own parents…” another qi cultivator said, exaggerating wildly and making dire threats.
The group shoved and jostled one another, arguing shamelessly like a pack of street thugs. The old monk’s kasaya was torn into tatters, and some qi cultivators even took advantage of the confusion to paw at him, trying to find leaves from the Buddha-Heart Tea Tree—or perhaps some other treasure.
The people of the Hanging Temple were driven to the verge of exhaustion and could only flee in haste.
“Everyone’s latched onto the Hanging Temple now, but they can only grit their teeth and swallow this loss.”
Chen Xuan watched the scene with barely concealed amusement. He then tilted his head back and drained the tea broth, holding the golden leaf in his mouth as he walked into the temporary wooden hut that had already been built.
A faint bitterness blossomed across his tongue. The qi and blood within his body gradually stirred, gathering strength like water behind a dam.
“Before Peach Blossom Spring falls, I can cultivate Azure Qi.”
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Chen Xuan sat cross-legged on the cold, crude plank bed. Originally, cultivating a second art beyond White Qi would have taken him twenty days. But now that he could drink a precious tea broth of considerable value every day, the time should be reduced considerably.
From Wang Chan’s Yellow Millet Dream, he had already learned the precise time and location of Peach Blossom Spring’s fall.
The first day of the first month.
More than half a month remained—enough time for him to master a second art, and perhaps even set foot on the path to ascension for a second time.
“Buzz…”
A strand of White Qi slowly moved through his body, gradually outlining a diagram of circulating qi. From time to time, a glimmer of azure light flashed, only to be swallowed once more by golden-white radiance…
Time flowed like water.
…
…
“Patter, patter!”
In the latter half of the night, a fine drizzle began to fall outside, mingled with grains of ice.
Chen Xuan ended his meditation and pushed open the door to look outside. His gaze sharpened.
Across the wilderness, more than twenty ascetic monks of the Hanging Temple sat motionless in the rain like statues. Faint starlight reflected from their shaved heads, while cold vapor rose from the ground like mist. The scene was eerie and unsettling.
“These ascetic monks really have some ability. Their state of mind seems far stronger than that of ordinary people. And that monk Kongwen was worried these young men would be seduced by Yan Yushu.”
Chen Xuan looked on in confusion. Among the group, he saw the young monk who had been severely wounded during the day. He sat in the cold rain, blood seeping from his chest and flowing away with the water, yet he seemed utterly unaware of it. His expression was solemn, and it was almost as though a true Buddhist nature flowed from his body.
In fact, the convictions and mental fortitude of these ascetic monks surpassed those of most people in the world. Moreover, they cultivated White Qi.
From the wooden hut next door came the sound of conspiratorial voices.
“Daoist, we gained benefits because of Yan Yushu. We absolutely cannot stand by while those bald beasts from the Hanging Temple humiliate her so wantonly…” The burly man lowered his voice. “My conscience is tormented. I can no longer bear to watch.”
“…”
After a moment, the middle-aged Daoist’s voice slowly rang out.
“I, too, feel ashamed…”
Chen Xuan heard the faint disturbance and turned his head in astonishment. He saw two figures leap from the wooden hut and speed through the night toward the distant mountains of the Southern Wilderness.
“Amitabha…”
A slightly disappointed Buddhist voice sounded through the curtain of rain.
“They seek death themselves…”
At once, one of the “statues” seemed to come alive. A figure wreathed in golden-white radiance, resembling an enraged Vajra, pursued them into the darkness.
…
…
The Southern Wilderness stretched into endless darkness.
Freezing rain fell like woven threads. Along a winding, slippery mountain road of foul mud, a slender, barefoot figure fled through the night. She wrapped her thin clothes tightly around herself, shivering violently from the cold.
“Boom!”
One golden-white radiance after another flared within the mountain forest ahead. Qi and blood surged into the heavens, each figure like a white-hot furnace more than ten feet tall, illuminating the night sky.
“…”
Yan Yushu halted. Her delicate brows drew together slightly. She turned and changed direction, only to stop again a moment later.
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“Roar!”
“Moo!”
Several figures resembling white furnaces emerged along her retreat. Behind them, phantom images appeared: a white-furred giant ape several yards tall, its face red, its fangs bared, its features savage as it threw back its head and roared; and a colossal elephant with limbs thick as pillars and two snow-white tusks, raising a trunk as wide as a barrel high into the air.
“Six Desires Heaven!”
One booming Buddhist chant after another echoed through the mountains from every direction, like thunder rolling across the earth.
“Hoo…”
Yan Yushu pressed her slightly pale lips together. With one hand, she casually gathered her waterfall of hair. In her foxlike eyes, black flames seemed to burn fiercely.
Her swaying, graceful steps swept away every trace of delicate, demure charm.
“A bunch of motherless bastards. Then… come on.”
Amid the curtain of rain, the phantom of a gigantic black fish leaped forth, transparent bird wings spread across its back. Its cry resembled the call of mandarin ducks, and the rain that filled the sky trembled in response.
The slaughter had no end.
She had long since grown accustomed to it.
…
…
“Damn, Yan Yushu’s Six Desires Heaven really is something…”
Chen Xuan stared in shock at the figures that had vanished from the camp.
During the day, the burly man and the middle-aged Daoist had caused the greatest disturbance. He had assumed they merely wanted to take greater advantage of the Hanging Temple. He had never expected them to truly betray the temple.
They would rather abandon benefits that were already within reach than leave Yan Yushu to face danger alone. It was unbelievable.
“The Hanging Temple is hardly innocent, either. Once someone crosses their bottom line, they simply overturn the table and stop pretending to be decent. Their vicious side has finally shown itself.”
Chen Xuan muttered inwardly. In the distance, an ascetic monk opened his eyes and looked over.
“Hey…”
Chen Xuan raised his chin at the monk, then returned to the wooden hut. He continued cultivating the Little Azure Deer Art for a while before lying down on the planks and closing his eyes to rest.
Great events happened every day in the world of qi cultivation, but not every one of them concerned him. Each major event had its own protagonists.
“All I need to do is advance steadily, keeping my feet firmly on the ground. In time, I will naturally reap my own harvest… Peach Blossom Spring contains relics left behind by ancient immortals and sages. That is the direction for which I must strive.”
Chen Xuan firmly believed that his heart was set on seeking immortality and the Dao, as steadfast as a green mountain. Nothing could shake his resolve.
What was the Six Desires Heaven? It could only ensnare those whose minds were weak. To someone like him, who could withstand even Yellow Millet Qi by sheer force, it was beneath notice.
Not long afterward, Chen Xuan dreamed of Yan Yushu in his sleep…
“Crack!”
His body suddenly tensed. Sweat covered his head, and his five fingers, sharp as knives, seized the wooden bedboard with such force that they split it apart.
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