Chapter 21: The True Person of Subtle Manifestation

Chapter 21: The Manifested Perfected One, Master of Subtlety

Returning to the courtyard, as soon as Luo Yuan pushed open the door, she saw Uncle Feng packing up his belongings and luggage.

“Uncle Feng, what are you doing?” Luo Yuan asked curiously.

Uncle Feng sighed, “Girl, the Earth Dragon has turned over. Come with me to avoid the coming disaster.”

Luo Yuan nearly flipped a table in exasperation. Who was it that stirred up the Earth Dragon? Don’t you know in your own heart?!

“Heh.” Uncle Feng snorted. “Alright, enough teasing. Your Uncle Zheng sent a letter. In a few days, he’ll be undergoing the ceremonial ordination and inscription, officially becoming an inner disciple of the True Transmission. He’s invited me to attend.”

Uncle Zheng? Which man is that?!

Luo Yuan was momentarily stunned, then quickly came to her senses. The only person in the world who could get Uncle Feng to leave his thousand-year-old nest and step outside Ping’an County must be him.

Luo Yuan’s tone turned cold. “Why go see him? He said he’d be back in three years, but now it’s been three years and another three years. I’m already fifteen! I’m not going! And you shouldn’t go either!”

Uncle Feng smiled and shook his head. This little girl really holds a grudge... But who could blame her? Back then, it wasn’t him who doted on Yuan Yuan the most, but Zheng Zha. The obedient and lovable Yuan Yuan always reminded Zheng Zha of what could have been—a daughter with his first love, had fate not taken her away.

The one who loved her most was him, and the one who was most ruthless was also him.

Taking Luo Yuan’s delicate hand, Uncle Feng gently advised, “Don’t blame your Uncle Zheng. When he joined the Shangqing Sect, it was mostly for my sake. Besides, it’s not that he doesn’t want to come back—the outer disciples of Shangqing aren’t permitted to leave the mountain at will.”

Luo Yuan muttered, “If not for that, I’d have killed him long ago. This time, when I go to Maoshan, I’ll beat him half to death and make sure he doesn’t return for another ten years.”

Uncle Feng couldn’t help but laugh. Wasn’t it just now that she said she wouldn’t go? Her words and her heart are at odds.

Seeing Luo Yuan like this, he felt reassured.

“When do we set out?”

“This afternoon, at the hour of the Sheep.”

...

Maoshan is a sacred mountain of Daoism in China, and the ancestral home of the Shangqing Sect. Among those with supernatural abilities, it’s known as the Supreme Purity Altar, revered as the First Blessed Land and the Eighth Cave Heaven.

The Shangqing Sect regards Lady Wei Huacun as its founding ancestor, venerating the Celestial Lord Yuanshi and the Grand Daoist as the highest deities. Their cultivation focuses on the regulation of intention and spiritual refinement, seeking to refine the form through the refinement of spirit.

It is one of the most prominent orthodox sects in the world of the extraordinary, producing generations of powerful figures and holding dominion over the entirety of Maoshan.

The Shangqing Sect is divided into outer and inner orders.

The outer order comprises menial disciples, who live communally in what are called dormitories. The inner order consists of true disciples, each with their own independent courtyard.

Zheng Zha, having been selected by Elder Shui, was already an inner disciple, only awaiting the ceremonial ordination and inscription to be officially recorded in the register and establish his status.

In the southwest corner stood a small courtyard reserved for Zheng Zha.

With a month left before the ordination, master and disciple spent their days together in the courtyard, conversing about the teachings of the Dao.

Elder Shuiyue, a highly accomplished master in the Shangqing Sect, though white-haired, was full of vitality and held the highest position.

After tea, Elder Shuiyue stroked his beard and smiled, “Zheng Zha, do you know why I took you as my disciple?”

Standing to the side, Zheng Zha replied without hesitation, “Naturally, because your disciple is elegant, handsome, witty, and blessed with great fortune...”

Elder Shuiyue’s expression darkened. “Speak properly.” This disciple of his was good in every way, but far too mischievous—he had no idea who taught him that.

Zheng Zha chuckled, poured his teacher another cup of tea, and said, “If I may be so bold, is it because teacher values my talent with talismans and seals?”

Though phrased as a question, his tone left no doubt.

“Exactly,” Elder Shuiyue nodded with emotion. “It is precisely your gift in the art of talismans.”

“Since the time of the founder, the Supreme Controller and the Southern Mountain True Man, our Shangqing Sect has been based on alchemy and ritual methods.”

“But...” Elder Shuiyue paused, his tone turning indignant. “Our Shangqing Maoshan, along with the Dragon Tiger Celestial Masters and Gezao Lingbao, are known as the Three Talisman Sects, all orthodox branches of Zhengyi. How could the dao of talismans be anything ordinary?”

“And yet, the orthodox talismanic arts of the Shangqing have been overshadowed by the so-called Wild Maoshan—a true disgrace to our ancestors!”

“I took you as my disciple to revitalize the true path of Shangqing talismans and restore our rightful tradition.”

Zheng Zha nodded thoughtfully.

Maoshan Daoists, unlike other reclusive extraordinaires, were renowned even among common folk. In the mundane world, across all walks of life, tales of Maoshan arts and Maoshan priests abounded.

Yet in truth, the Shangqing Sect of Maoshan was a branch of the Orthodox Unity tradition—a classical sect, humble and self-disciplined.

Authentic Shangqing Daoists of Maoshan did not dabble in miscellaneous sorcery. Instead, they devoted themselves to cultivation, refining their character and virtue in accordance with the teachings of the ancients, true practitioners of pure cultivation.

By nature, the Shangqing Sect should not have been so famed.

The reason for their widespread reputation was the so-called Wild Maoshan.

Wild Maoshan referred to those without lineage or sect, yet possessing some magical arts, who acted in the name of the Shangqing Sect of Maoshan. Lacking the discipline of true initiates, they acted without restraint, and over time, their notoriety grew.

These Wild Maoshan practitioners were a mixed bag, both virtuous and wicked.

The good merely borrowed the name of Shangqing Maoshan to deter evildoers and bring blessings to their communities.

Shangqing Daoists felt no warmth toward such people, but did not actively oppose them either.

However, most of the Wild Maoshan were practitioners of black magic and evil arts. After all, how many impostors are truly good people? The evil cultivators among them were exceptionally cruel, often using human sacrifices and requiring blood to empower their magical tools.

One of their sinister arts, the Seven Fiends Body-Accumulating Ritual, required the murder of seven innocent children. A single wicked talisman could demand the blood of virgin boys and girls as a sacrifice.

Zheng Zha’s master, Elder Shuiyue, was a descendant of the true line of Shangqing Maoshan talismanic arts. Naturally, he harbored deep animosity toward these impostors who sullied the sect’s name.

Zheng Zha straightened his expression and cupped his hands. “Master, rest assured. I will purge the evil, restore our name, and return the Shangqing Sect of Maoshan to its rightful honor.”

Elder Shuiyue nodded in satisfaction. “Your intentions are good, but don’t act too rashly—do what is right and let it accumulate.”

“Accumulate earth to form a mountain, and wind and rain will arise; accumulate water to form a deep pool, and dragons will be born—this is the true path.”

“For the next few days, study well the secret transmissions of the orthodox talismanic arts. In a month, let your peers witness that the lineage of Shangqing talismans still has worthy successors.”

“Thank you, Master.” Zheng Zha’s face lit up with joy. The secret transmissions of the orthodox talismanic arts were among the six great inheritances of the Shangqing, forbidden to outer disciples. He had coveted them for a long time.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave,” Elder Shuiyue said, rising.

“Master, please wait,” Zheng Zha called out, hurrying to keep him.

“What is it?” Elder Shuiyue asked, puzzled.

Zheng Zha had his master sit again, then said, “It’s about the matter I asked last year—regarding the Mysterious Pass. I want to know, how does one unite essence, energy, and spirit into one and open the Mysterious Pass?”

Zheng Zha often corresponded with Luo Feng. Last time, Luo Feng mentioned that his own accumulation was sufficient, but he was still confused about how to bring the three together and return to the root.

Elder Shuiyue looked at him and paused. “Disciple, have you been drinking?”

Zheng Zha blinked in confusion. “Why would you ask that, Master?”

Elder Shuiyue looked at Zheng Zha as if at an idiot. “If you’d eaten even a single grain of raw rice, you wouldn’t be this drunk. Three uniting at the crown—you really dare to dream! You think you can merge essence, energy, and spirit? If in this lifetime you manage to complete the Yin Spirit and become a Ghost Immortal, I can die content and face our forebears.”

“Do you know who the last person was to unify essence, energy, and spirit at the Mysterious Pass?”

Zheng Zha’s face froze, nervous. “Who?”

Elder Shuiyue chuckled, “The Manifested Perfected One, Master of Subtlety—Zhang Sanfeng!”

(The investment is at 78, just 22 more to reach a hundred.)

(End of this chapter)