Chapter Forty-One: A Temple in the Mountains

The next day.

Dawn was just breaking.

Because Gu Cang was deep in the primeval forest, he had lowered his hood and wore only a black robe. A long blade hung at his waist and he carried a spear in hand; his golden eyes glanced toward Qingyuan from time to time.

Yesterday, the master had effortlessly pushed a huge boulder several yards away—his strength far surpassed Gu Cang’s own. That alone was astonishing, but what was even more remarkable was that the master’s presence had become unfathomable, far deeper than before. Where once there had been an austere and awe-inspiring air, there was now an inscrutable haze, as if cloaked in mist.

“So this is the Second Heaven, the second tier of cultivation?” Many thoughts flitted through Gu Cang’s mind.

The night before, in the mountain cave, the master had tossed a fire talisman onto the ground, igniting a blaze to light the darkness. Gu Cang could sense that this was no mere showpiece like those talismans the master had once pasted on himself to frighten others; this one, if it struck, could have burned him to death.

Later, the master spent the night drawing talismans, and Gu Cang watched intently. The runes were painted onto paper beasts, which the master then affixed to wood carvings, demonstrating a Daoist technique that turned paper cuttings into horses.

Even now, Gu Cang’s heart pounded with lingering fear. Two or three tigers and wolves combined would not have been as formidable as that magic.

“Last night, I demonstrated some Daoist arts—turning paper into horses, conjuring fire with runes…” Qingyuan glanced at him and said, “Truthfully, I too take joy in wielding such arts. But in the end, these are only techniques, meant to safeguard the Way. What brings me greater joy is that I have taken another step closer to the path of immortality. The road ahead is long, but it is a journey made one step at a time…”

Gu Cang replied respectfully, “I will heed your teachings.”

Qingyuan nodded slightly.

He surveyed the terrain, compared it to what he knew, and said, “The way ahead is not short, but it is not particularly dangerous. We should be able to cross these deep woods in about a day and a half.”

Gu Cang asked, “Is the land beyond these mountains Southern Liang?”

Qingyuan nodded. “Indeed.”

Gu Cang continued, “Will we encounter Chen Zhiyun?”

Qingyuan frowned. “The territory of Southern Liang is vast. Chen Zhiyun himself is far away in the capital, so likely not. However, his White-Clad Army has a young officer stationed in these mountains. Whether Chen himself is nearby, I cannot say. Still…” At this point, Qingyuan glanced at Gu Cang. “I would rather not meet him.”

Gu Cang asked, “Why not?”

Qingyuan explained, “Because if the White-Clad Army travels in groups of dozens or hundreds, harnessing both fortune and murderous intent, armed with enchanted weapons and arrayed in formation, they are more than a match even for cultivators.”

Gu Cang’s furred face twisted in surprise. “I actually wish to meet him.”

Qingyuan laughed. “Why is that?”

Gu Cang replied, “Because I admire him.”

Qingyuan considered for a moment, then smiled. “Perhaps I should give you paper and ink, so if you meet him one day, you can ask him for a calligraphy keepsake?”

Gu Cang nodded, “That would be good…”

Qingyuan nodded in return, then looked at him and said, “But you must remember, you are a spirit beast. Should you encounter him, you might be immediately beset by his hundreds or thousands of soldiers. Even if you attain the Fourth Heaven, you would struggle to withstand the White-Clad Army, whose weapons are all inscribed with talismans.”

Gu Cang’s mouth fell open in shock.

Seeing this, Qingyuan burst into laughter. Having made great progress in his cultivation, he felt truly at ease.

…

They traveled for a day.

The sun set behind the western mountains.

At this hour, it was usually only dusk, but here, because of the terrain, the setting sun was soon hidden by the mountains. Night seemed to fall more swiftly.

Gu Cang was thinking of resting.

But Qingyuan waved his hand, gaze sharpening as he pointed into the distance. “Look.”

Gu Cang followed his finger.

Not far away, a mountain peak loomed. Halfway up its slope stood a dilapidated temple.

Gu Cang grinned. “So, you’ve already spotted a place we might spend the night…”

Qingyuan’s expression grew grave. “There’s something strange about that temple…”

At his words, Gu Cang instinctively gripped his blade. The master’s abilities now far exceeded his own, but since even the master was being cautious, how could he dare relax?

“Then…” Gu Cang hesitated, “should we rest here instead?”

Qingyuan shook his head with a faint smile. “If we rest outside, wild beasts and night birds may come to disturb us—troublesome, even if not dangerous. Besides, if there is truly something amiss in that temple, staying nearby won’t spare us. What is fated to come will find us regardless.”

Gu Cang asked, “So you mean…”

“As I said, what is fated to come will find us. So let us go and meet it ourselves,” Qingyuan replied.

Though slow to respond, Gu Cang could see that while the master was solemn, he showed no real fear. Relieved, Gu Cang said, “So you wish to test your new arts?”

“There is indeed such a thought,” Qingyuan admitted, nodding. He pointed toward the ruined temple and sighed, “There’s firelight within—someone is there. We cannot simply ignore it.”

Gu Cang gripped his blade, his face fierce. “Shall I clear the way for you?”

“No hurry,” Qingyuan said. “Pull up your hood—you’ll frighten the people.”

Gu Cang’s eyes showed resignation, but he raised his black hood, covering his head and face, leaving only two golden eyes exposed.

“Let’s go.”

Together they set off.

The mountain path was even, leading straight to the ruined temple halfway up the slope.

As they drew near, the temple looked more dilapidated—its plaque hung askew, the bricks and tiles were broken, plaster flaking, red paint faded to gray.

Within, firelight flickered and voices could be faintly heard.

Qingyuan paused, glancing about. Around the temple grew several trees—not unfamiliar, for they were locust trees.

“A pity… Back then, finding good locust wood for my tiger and wolf carvings was no easy task…” Qingyuan smiled at Gu Cang. “There are quite a few fine specimens here, but I’ve already crafted nine wooden carvings—one I gave to Xiaoyu, leaving me with eight. That is enough. Besides, I have no time to make more.”

Gu Cang scratched his head. “If you need more, I’ll come back and chop some trees for you.”

Qingyuan laughed. “Very well.”

He glanced around, then led Gu Cang into the temple.

Inside, all voices fell silent.

Many eyes turned their way.

Qingyuan quickly surveyed the room—there were several groups, nearly twenty people in all.

The looks they received were far from friendly, filled with wariness, coldness, and rejection.

Qingyuan, in their eyes, appeared a frail scholar, but the fierce aura of the black-robed creature following him bred caution.

For now, everyone remained silent.

Seeing the silence, Qingyuan did not speak either, merely leading the mountain spirit further inside.

Most soon averted their gazes, resuming their conversations with their companions.

The firelight flickered, and the aroma of cooked meat wafted through the air.

PS: Wishing everyone a happy May Day. As a homebody, I’m still at my desk writing. There’ll be another chapter at midnight.