Chapter Fourteen: Conduct as the Foundation

Night had fallen. The moon hung like a curved hook, its silver light draping the world in gossamer. A cool night breeze occasionally swept thin clouds across the sky, like a trail of fine silk brushing the crescent, lending the moonlight an even deeper haze.

At the edge of the woods, a youth sat cross-legged upon a stone in an open clearing. Bathed in the gentle glow, he appeared ethereal and otherworldly, like an immortal descended to earth.

He spoke slowly, his voice as clear as a mountain spring, expounding on the ways of cultivation and the mysteries of the Dao.

Before him squatted a mountain fiend, resembling a great ape, listening intently and not daring to be lax. It looked every bit the earnest student—sometimes lost, sometimes enlightened.

This scene was etched deeply into the fabric of the moonlit night.

“I will teach you the method of breathing and absorbing energy, to move your organs and give birth to true qi.”

Seated upon the stone, Qingyuan lowered his gaze to the mountain fiend and said, “The method I have learned is profound beyond measure, and its origins are extraordinary. Without permission, it must not be passed on lightly. What I teach you tonight is my own understanding. Ordinary people practicing this would require many years to condense even a wisp of true qi. The method is crude and the road ahead arduous. As for you…”

“You are, after all, a mountain fiend by nature, with the blood of the demon immortals awakened. Your vitality is thus abundant. By guiding your energy with this breathing method, so long as you practice correctly, you should be able to condense true qi within a few days.”

Qingyuan recalled his own arduous journey to form true qi and could not help but feel a surge of emotion.

The mountain fiend nodded, half-understanding.

“If you cultivate using the heretical methods passed down among mountain fiends, you can indeed form magical power, surpass the third heaven, and reach the fourth—thus becoming a true demon, utterly transcending ordinary creatures.”

Qingyuan’s tone grew solemn. “But that is the limit. After forming magical power, the way of the mountain fiend comes to an end. Not only that, your exceptional talent comes from your demon immortal heritage. If you follow that path, in the end, you’ll fall under the sway of the demon immortals and lose your true nature.”

He looked at the mountain fiend and said, “Only by cultivating the methods of the immortals can you continue forward, preserving your essence and resisting the corrupting influence of demon immortals. The breathing technique I pass to you today is indeed basic, but it sets you on the proper path. From this day forth, you are my disciple in truth and spirit.”

The mountain fiend was taken aback, then asked, “Master?”

Qingyuan pondered and replied, “You may call me Teacher.”

The mountain fiend gave assent, then inquired, “Teacher, what are the third and fourth heavens you spoke of?”

“They are divisions of the stages of cultivation.”

“Stages?” the mountain fiend echoed, puzzled.

“The way of cultivation is a gradual ascent, but the heights and depths differ, so we must distinguish between them.”

Qingyuan explained patiently, “During cultivation, countless subtle and intricate tasks are required to nurture oneself and increase one’s attainment.”

“Whether Confucian, Buddhist, Daoist, or other paths, every school has its own variations and names for these stages.”

“Even within the Daoist tradition, different branches use different terms and methods, and their achievements and techniques may vary.”

“But despite these differences, most systems of cultivation are divided into roughly nine steps.”

Thus, the founders of the Daoist schools collectively termed these nine steps the Ninefold Heavens.

Qingyuan spoke earnestly, “Completing the nine steps, one touches the realm of the immortals.”

The mountain fiend nodded, still not fully comprehending. Human language was unfamiliar, yet somehow, every word the teacher spoke was etched into its memory—never forgotten, even if not entirely understood. Later, it could always ponder and seek clarity, or ask anew.

“In this world, the path of cultivation is divided into the Ninefold Heavens. Yet my own method is different from all others—it is called the Ninefold Tower.”

Qingyuan continued, “Even the names of the stages in my Ninefold Tower are distinct, seldom found even among the Daoist schools.”

“The first three towers are: Refining Qi, Refining Form, Condensing Power.”

“The middle three: Observing the Dao, Mountains and Rivers, Sea of Clouds.”

“The final three: Northern Dipper, Cavern Mysteries, Ultimate Realm.”

Hearing this, the mountain fiend’s eyes shone with longing.

Qingyuan saw the yearning in its gaze and cautioned, “Before you begin your cultivation, remember well: cultivation itself is the foundation. Magical power, divine abilities, techniques—these are protective means, not the root. Do not mistake the branches for the trunk.”

The mountain fiend scratched the white fur atop its head, somewhat confused. “What does it mean to mistake the branches for the trunk?”

“As your cultivation improves, magical power and divine abilities will grow accordingly, and the might of talismans, swords, and treasures will increase as well,” Qingyuan explained. “But what you should truly rejoice in is the progress of your own cultivation. That is the root.”

“Do not become enamored with the increase of magical power. As for techniques and divine arts, swords and talismans—they are but tools for combat, necessary yet external.”

“In the course of cultivation, you must have methods to protect yourself. This cannot be neglected, but you must know what matters most.”

Qingyuan’s words were grave. The mountain fiend seemed a bit bewildered, but eventually nodded.

“In the world of cultivation, one must nurture essence, refine qi, and store spirit, then harmonize dragon and tiger, capture kan and fill li.”

“Discern the purity of the water’s source; distinguish the timing of wind and weather.”

Seated atop the rock, bathed in moonlight, Qingyuan spoke slowly, guiding with his hands, his voice drifting, “Thus one must gather the One, observe the Two Principles, set the Three Powers, divide the Four Symbols, distinguish the Five Movements, determine the Six Qi, collect the Seven Treasures, arrange the Eight Trigrams, and traverse the Nine Continents.”

“Along the way, one must also note the twenty-four solar terms, and understand the cycles of heavenly stems and earthly branches.”

He paused and looked at the mountain fiend before him. “Only by inverting the Five Elements and refining yin and yang can one forge the fruit of immortality.”

The mountain fiend’s face was awash with astonishment, as if it had never imagined such complexity.

“These matters need not be mastered in a single day. You may study the Daoist texts at leisure and gradually comprehend them. I will also teach you, dispelling your doubts as they arise. For now, I will impart to you the breathing technique.”

Qingyuan said, “Listen carefully…”

The mountain fiend held its breath, heart stilled, listening with all its being.

…

Upon the path of cultivation, there are those who devote themselves solely to spiritual attainment, never learning magical arts. Such people often reach great heights but lack means to defend themselves.

For instance, in the Buddhist tradition, there are many who reach profound enlightenment yet have never practiced Buddhist supernatural abilities. They focus solely on cultivation, relying at most on guardian devas for protection.

The Daoists also have sages of deep attainment, able to grasp the workings of heaven and earth, yet who dwell in seclusion, defenseless. Some may have martial guardians, or Daoist talisman-bearers for protection.

As for the Confucians, they possess even fewer methods for contending with adversaries. Their focus lies in principle, in the study of the classics, relying solely on the righteous aura cultivated through virtue to ward off evil spirits. They have no techniques for battle—but even so, such scholars are often accompanied by martial protectors.

These thoughts stirred Qingyuan’s heart as he watched the mountain fiend, lost in contemplation.

He himself was devoted to the Dao, and by accepting this disciple, he could not deny he hoped to gain a protector.

Yet, in these turbulent times, with calamity rife and doom at every turn, he knew well that to focus solely on cultivation while neglecting magical arts was a perilous mistake. In peaceful ages, perhaps one could withdraw from the world, content with inner cultivation alone. But now, in an age of chaos, even the most profound attainment without means of defense might mean sudden death and the end of one’s path.

“To cultivate the Dao is to cultivate both principle and practice,” Qingyuan reflected. “But divine arts and magical techniques are the means to protect the Dao—they cannot be forsaken.”

[End.]