Chapter 5: Observations

As her fingertips touched the cold water, the silver fish did not dart forward, nor did it flee. Instead, it circled, tentatively approaching Zhao Chun’s finger.

Zhao Chun frowned slightly. As she flicked her finger forward, the silver fish immediately lunged at her, its sharp teeth piercing her fingertip to take a drop of blood. Seeing this, her heart settled slightly.

The young man took in this strange sight but said nothing. He merely cast two subtle glances at Zhao Chun, his heart filled with confusion. Silently, he withdrew the jade basin and nodded toward the man in the Daoist robe.

“Hmm, another one with an affinity for the Immortal path. What is your name?”

Zhao Chun lowered her head, clenching her still-aching fingertip into a fist. Having calmed down from her initial joy, she replied steadily, “This young girl is Zhao Chun. Greetings, Immortal Master.”

Seeing that she was neither servile nor overbearing and possessed a measured demeanor, the Daoist-robed man hummed again and said, “A steady one. Go and take your seat.”

Zhao Chun sat down beside the only other girl who had been selected. The girl offered a shy smile and said, “My name is Zhou Pianran. ‘Pianran’ as in ‘riding the wind, fluttering away in a boat.’”

Her face was round like a silver plate, her features delicate and beautiful, and when she smiled, her eyes curved into crescent moons, naturally evoking a sense of goodwill.

“My name is Zhao Chun, the ‘chun’ as in water shield.”

“I heard the Immortal Master ask for your name earlier and thought it was the ‘chun’ for purity and singleness of heart. So it is this ‘chun’ instead. Spring water shield is lush, autumn water shield is delightful—both are very good.” Zhao Chun could tell she was a girl of great cultivation; her words and actions were gentle and harmonious.

They were the only two girls at the table. As if she had found a savior, Zhou Pianran asked, “I am eleven this year. How about you?”

“I turned ten two months ago.”

Her eyes brightened, and she smiled. “Then you were born in the third month! I was born in the third month as well; I am exactly one year older than you.”

Zhao Chun was not a talkative person; she answered only when Zhou Pianran asked. Through their exchange, she had already gained some understanding of the identities of the other candidates.

Including Zhao Chun, there were six people in total. The oldest was Liu Ziyi, who would turn thirteen in a month. Of the other three, two were not from noble families: the tall, thin one was named Peng Zheng, and the shorter, sturdier one was Zhang Mingzhan.

As for the last one, he wore a gold-inlaid jade longevity lock around his neck and mutton-fat white jade rings on both arms. He had a broad forehead and a thick nose—the look of wealth—and, self-important, he did not speak to anyone else at the table.

Because Zhou Pianran had been selected before him, she had heard him answer the Daoist-robed man’s inquiry: “Surname Xie, given name Baoguang.”

“At first, I didn’t know which ‘bao’ or which ‘guang’ it was. Later, when he walked over and I saw him, I knew exactly which ‘Baoguang’ it was.”

Zhao Chun nodded. With all that glitz and glamour, it was no wonder he was named that.

While the two whispered to each other, the secondary selection concluded. There were not many people left after Zhao Chun, and no one else had manifested any strange phenomena, making her the final person selected.

Of the ten seats prepared, only six were occupied. Wang Chuyan, lacking an affinity for the Immortal path, could only follow behind the young man, not daring to take a seat. The Daoist-robed man swept his gaze over the remaining empty seats, his expression less than pleasant.

“Immortal affinity is hard to come by; it is already no small feat to be selected. I hope the Immortal Master will be patient.” The speaker wore black robes and a crown—the attire of the King of Chu.

“The King has labored much for this selection. This Daoist will certainly report it to the sect, and a generous reward will surely be bestowed before long.”

Upon hearing of the reward, the King was not embarrassed or ashamed; instead, his eyes crinkled with a smile as he clapped his hands. “Good! Good!” He waved for an attendant to come forward and ordered, “Pass down the decree: in every county where someone was selected, the officials shall have their titles raised by one rank. The families of the selected children shall be granted the title of ‘Shang Dafu’ and bestowed with fertile land, gold, and silver as a mark of commendation.”

The State of Chu practiced a system of merit-based nobility, which made for a fierce and hardy populace. Now that the King had broken old rules to curry favor with the Immortals, the ministers below showed no surprise, as if it were all perfectly natural.

Zhao Chun understood that, in the final analysis, once one’s strength reached a certain level, it left others unable to even conceive of defiance. Much like Zhao Gao pointing at a deer and calling it a horse in the past, the principle of “my word is truth” was exactly this.

“There are many miscellaneous matters remaining. I must take these people back to the temple to make arrangements, so I shall take my leave.”

Hearing this, the King stood up tremblingly, bowed with his hands cupped, and smiled, “Safe travels, Immortal Master!”

The Daoist-robed man flicked his horsetail whisk, and the young man from the Wang family signaled for Zhao Chun and the others to come forward. Liu Ziyi, being the most quick-witted and sycophantic, hurried behind the young man, leaving the others to stand behind him.

Peng Zheng and Zhang Mingzhan remained silent. Xie Baoguang moved his lips, but seeing no one else speak and not daring to cause trouble before the Immortal Master, he walked toward the back with a dark face. Zhao Chun and Zhou Pianran felt nothing of the sort and stood at the end of the line, unwilling to involve themselves in the friction at the front.

As for Wang Chuyan, it was inappropriate for her to stand behind Zhao Chun and Zhou Pianran, and even more inappropriate to stand beside Liu Ziyi. She looked left and right, not knowing what to do.

“Take this.” Her brother handed her the jade basin. Wang Chuyan hurriedly took it and stood to her brother’s rear-left.

It was truly miraculous; the moment the jade basin left the young man’s hands, it lost its luster, turning into a mere stone basin in the blink of an eye. The crowd could not help but marvel once more.

Only then did Zhao Chun understand why the young man, despite being a fellow disciple of the Daoist-robed man, had to perform the duties of a servant. It seemed the silver fish possessed its own mysteries and could not function in the hands of an ordinary attendant.

Sure enough, the silver fish seemed to sense something; it thrashed a few times, then turned belly-up and went still.

The group followed the Daoist-robed man forward. Seeing him form a spell with his right hand, the group suddenly felt as if they had wind beneath their feet, each step covering over ten meters. They soon arrived at the gates of the Daoist temple.

There was no plaque above the gate. To the front-right stood a white stone stele, upon which four large characters were inscribed in thick, heavy ink—Lingzhen Daoist Temple.

Zhao Chun felt a needle-like prick in her temples after looking at it for a few moments; the pain vanished as soon as she looked away. The others fared even worse, raising their hands to cover their eyes, not daring to look again.

“The inscription has spirit; mortals cannot gaze upon it for long. Once you have guided Qi into your bodies, you will be considered people of my Dao. By then, these few characters will be nothing,” the Daoist-robed man explained as he led them inside.

Wang Chuyan could not enter the main hall; as soon as they entered the temple, she was led away by a young Daoist.

The group entered the main hall. To the left stood a red-crowned white crane as tall as two men, and to the right, a black mysterious tortoise. They guarded the incense table in the center, upon which eleven jade statues were placed. On the wall, a scroll was unfurled, depicting six men and women sitting, though their faces were all obscured.

The Daoist-robed man first bowed to the incense table, then turned to the group. “My name is Cao Wenguan, an outer-sect deacon of the Lingzhen Sect in the Hengyun World. You may address me as Deacon Cao. My Lingzhen lineage has been established for over two thousand years, having received the teachings of our Supreme Holy Ancestor, Daoist Weiye. We currently have thirty thousand disciples. This small world has been adrift for a long time; it was recovered by our Elder Wu, who then dispatched deacons to recruit disciples for the sect. You have passed two rounds of selection and indeed possess spiritual roots. You are now probationary disciples. In one month, seniors from the sect will come to escort you to the Hengyun World.”

The group listened, bewildered. “Hengyun World,” “Lingzhen Sect,” “Daoist Weiye,” “small world adrift,” “spiritual roots”—these were all things they had never heard of.

Zhao Chun had read similar books, and the concept of multiple worlds had existed in her previous life, so she could roughly construct a layered, cultivation-based worldview.

She had also heard a little about spiritual roots; she knew that fewer was better, though whether it was the same as what she understood, she did not know.

Cao Wenguan continued, “I know you have doubts in your hearts. I will first introduce the Hengyun World, spiritual roots, and the path of cultivation. If you have further questions, you may ask.”

“Buddhist cultivators call this world the ‘Three Thousand Worlds.’ This does not mean there are three thousand worlds, but rather the Great, Medium, and Small Thousand Worlds, collectively known as the Three Thousand Worlds. The Hengyun World is a Small Thousand World, which contains one thousand small worlds. However, several tens of thousands of years ago, there was a great catastrophe, and many small worlds were lost in the chaos. This world is one of them. As for the Medium and Great Thousand Worlds, those are places where great beings walk; they are still too far removed from us.”

“Spiritual roots are the foundation of a cultivator. They are divided by the five elements, and fewer is better. Four or five spiritual roots are ‘pseudo-roots,’ while a single spiritual root is the best, known as a ‘Heavenly Spiritual Root.’”

“To enter the Dao, a cultivator must begin by guiding the spiritual energy of heaven and earth into their body. Humans have meridians, acupoints, and upper and lower Dantians. After guiding the Qi into the body, one must circulate it to cleanse the meridians and clear the acupoints. Only then does the true path of cultivation begin.”

“Now, are there any questions?”

As soon as Cao Wenguan finished speaking, Xie Baoguang asked, “Then what kind of spiritual roots do we have?”

“I have no way to test your spiritual roots yet. You must return to the sect and be observed by the Spirit-Reflecting Wall to know.”

Peng Zheng stepped forward and asked, “May I ask, Deacon, what is a probationary disciple?”

Cao Wenguan replied, “The sect is divided into inner and outer gates. Probationary disciples are in the outer gate; it is a path every disciple must walk. There is a five-year term. If you cannot clear your meridians and acupoints within five years, you must leave the Hengyun World and return to this small world.”

He explained more details about the sect before leading them to pay their respects and register.

“The six people in the painting are the past sect leaders. All disciples, come forward and bow.”

“The eleven jade statues are the founding elders. All disciples, bow again.”

“Thus, you have entered the gate and are now probationary disciples of the Lingzhen Sect. I now bestow upon you the ‘True Scripture of Sensory Perception.’ I hope you will practice diligently and enter the Dao soon.”

Zhao Chun, like the others, received a small booklet.

Cao Wenguan explained, “The ‘True Scripture of Sensory Perception’ is the most orthodox secret method for cultivators in the Hengyun World to guide Qi. The spiritual energy in this small world is thin, making it difficult to guide Qi. I bestow this secret method early so you may familiarize yourselves with the meridian paths and acupoint locations, facilitating your future cultivation.”

The group bowed and acknowledged. Cao Wenguan then brought the young man from the Wang family forward. “This is Wang Fang. He entered the sect one year before you and has already completed the process of guiding Qi into his body in the Hengyun World. He is here to assist me this time. You may call him Senior Brother.”

Zhao Chun recalled Wang Fang calling Cao Wenguan “Senior Brother” and asked, “Deacon Cao, I heard Senior Brother Wang call you ‘Senior Brother’ during the secondary selection. Why is that?”

“Wang Fang and I are both disciples of Elder Qi of the outer gate; we are fellow disciples within the sect. You call him ‘Senior Brother’ because you are all outer-gate disciples, and his cultivation is higher than yours.”

Zhao Chun nodded and thanked him.

Zhang Mingzhan asked again, “Deacon Cao, are you the master of this temple?”

Cao Wenguan shook his head. “I am not, but the temple master is also a disciple of the sect. His surname is Liang; you must also call him ‘Senior Brother.’ He is responsible for the various chores in the temple and will also manage your daily life for this month.”

He looked around, and seeing no more questions, he told everyone to step back and settle in.

As he was leaving, he added, “Cultivation depends on the individual. I will not interfere with your whereabouts this month—whether you play or practice hard is of no concern to me. It is the same here, and even more so once you enter the sect. How your path unfolds depends on the choices you make.”

Zhao Chun clutched the ‘True Scripture of Sensory Perception,’ already planning for the future.

This world was vast and expansive beyond measure. If she could not go out and explore it, what would be the point of having lived a second life?

(End of chapter)