Chapter 33: Still on the Path of Cultivation

The local deity looked toward Jiang She.

"My surname is Jiang. I am a mountain dweller from Shu."

"So it is Mr. Jiang!"

The old abbot offered a formal salute, not daring to slight him. Behind him, several Daoist priests followed suit, unwilling to cause offense despite the man's humility. The young novice was particularly astonished; was it not said that the tall man of advanced age was the Mountain Lord? Why was this gentleman speaking on his behalf?

As the old abbot was surrounded by many priests, the pilgrims nearby turned their gazes toward them, whispering among themselves. They were curious as to what had happened in the temple to cause so many priests to gather. Could it be that the County Magistrate had arrived?

The old abbot smiled leisurely and said, "It is now noon. Have our two honored guests had their midday meal? If not, why not step aside and partake of some temple fare? Our Qingxu Temple may not have much to boast of, but the temple food is quite decent. I trust it will not disappoint our honored guests."

Jiang She accepted. "Then we shall impose upon your hospitality."

As they walked together, they could hear pilgrims privately discussing their encounters with immortals on the mountain. Upon reaching the refectory, one could hear people clutching their bowls and debating, muttering, "I have been up this mountain at least fifty times, if not a hundred. Every first of the month and every festival, I come to offer incense. Why have I never seen an immortal? Not to mention immortals, I haven't even seen the legendary demons people speak of. They say the demons were holding a banquet on the mountain—I reckon that is just Erniu's lad spouting nonsense!"

Hearing this, Jiang She could not help but smile.

The old abbot noticed and said cheerfully, "Does Mr. Jiang find this amusing?"

Jiang She nodded. "To pass one's life in such ignorance and peace, healthy and safe—that is the greatest blessing. There is no need to trouble oneself with ghosts and gods."

Reflecting on this, the old abbot replied happily, "That is truly so. Such good fortune is rare indeed." He then probed cautiously, "It has been said that the famous mountains and great rivers of this world are home to marvelous things, yet mortals are simply unable to perceive them. The two realms do not interfere with one another."

The local deity, the mountain spirit, suddenly spoke up: "The mountain gods and local deities hold their night banquets, and the mountain ghosts and spirits attend them; it is only natural that mortals cannot see them."

The old abbot paused. The implication was clear: the rumors of mountain immortals that had been causing such a stir these past two days were indeed the banquets of mountain spirits. Had they let slip a few words of conversation that mere mortals had overheard?

Jiang She suddenly recalled the matter entrusted to him by the County Magistrate and asked the old priest, "Has the Abbot heard of a certain alchemist? He claims his Daoist arts are comparable to those of Luan Da during the reign of Emperor Wu of Han, boasting that he can turn stones into gold, resolve the flooding of rivers, and concoct elixirs of immortality. He has an initiate who has swindled thousands of strings of cash in the vicinity, and the County Magistrate has already sentenced him."

The old abbot asked gravely, "Does the gentleman know this person's name?"

Jiang She shook his head. "The Magistrate only said that this man is quite skilled in illusions and possesses many techniques, with many disciples enrolled under his tutelage, serving by his side."

The old abbot thought carefully and said with regret, "I seem to have some vague impression, though I cannot recall where I heard it. I shall send my disciples to search thoroughly."

The mountain deity also replied, "This humble god will investigate upon returning, or inquire of other local deities."

They were seated at a remote table in the refectory, which was noisy enough that ordinary conversation could not be heard beyond a couple of feet. A young acolyte brought the meal, interrupting their talk; each received a bowl.

When the old abbot heard the Mountain Lord refer to himself as a "humble god," his chopsticks nearly slipped from his grip and fell onto the table. The Lord of Black Stone Mountain was known for his violent temper before he began his cultivation, and even after, he rarely cared to engage with mortals. The abbot had assumed this Mr. Jiang was merely an old acquaintance of the Mountain Lord, but hearing him use the term "humble god" left him so shocked that his soul nearly left his body. If even a local mountain god referred to himself as a "humble god," then what was the identity of this Mr. Jiang?

"I dare not accept such," the old abbot said immediately. His aged hands trembled as he steadied his chopsticks. He glanced around the refectory and beckoned to a young priest, whispering instructions to him. "Go and ask if anyone knows of this person. If not, then investigate," the abbot commanded.

"My thanks, Abbot," Jiang She said.

The old abbot replied, "Since an incident of using Daoist arts to deceive people has occurred in Xiangyang, it is our duty to investigate thoroughly and uphold the integrity of the Dao. Although our Qingxu Temple is not a famous one, we still hold to this principle."

...

The temple food at Qingxu Temple lived up to its reputation. It was a bowl of five-grain rice—millet, rice, yellow millet, wheat, and beans cooked together—in a generous portion. It was garnished with seasonal vegetables grown by the monks themselves: tender shepherd's purse, crisp cucumber, braised eggplant, and two slices of tofu. Such a bowl cost only eight coins and tasted fresh and clean.

While eating, the three chatted. Jiang She inquired about some Daoist alchemy formulas, and the old priest was generous, hiding nothing and explaining clearly.

"The elixir is born from the primal energy of heaven and earth," the abbot explained. "The Great Elixir relies on the Five Elements, each serving as the ancestor to the next... Take the Golden Fluid Elixir, for instance: one takes a pound of gold and soaks it in a 'Flowery Pool' for a hundred days... The essence of the gold is self-consumed, resembling purple frost. Once this Golden Fluid enters the mouth, the five viscera all sprout gold. It is based on the principle of borrowing the immortality of gold and stone to become undying."

After finishing, the old priest added, "The Golden Fluid Elixir is a formula passed down, but the Qingxu Temple is small and our temple is humble; we lack the funds for such, so I have never attempted it."

Though he did not know the high-ranking guest's true identity, the old priest offered a word of counsel: "I have only heard that a Daoist in Junzhou died from consuming elixirs. The art of alchemy is a part of the Dao, but one must be cautious when consuming pills. Naturally, if the gentleman possesses other methods different from us mere mortals, that is another matter."

The old abbot spoke in greater detail than Yuan Danqiu had, providing Jiang She with a faint outline in his mind—a burgeoning idea he hoped to grasp. He expressed his thanks: "Thank you, Abbot. Might I borrow your esteemed grounds later? I wish to make a small attempt."

"The gentleman is most welcome to use them!"

...

The group had finished their meal and sat at the table, listening to the clamor of the refectory. Some men wiped away tears, praying for the health and safety of their families. Others, dressed in fine silks, told their companions they had bought a beaded bracelet at a stall by the entrance to seek wealth. A young woman, her face flushed like peach blossoms, was led by her mother to offer incense, hoping to find a good husband. Meanwhile, a scholar from the county academy vowed to pass the imperial examinations, hoping for the protection of the God of Literature.

Life holds a hundred different forms, and the desires within every heart are different.

The old abbot hesitated for a moment. Opportunities to meet the Mountain Lord and such a high-ranking master were far too rare. Even though it might be presumptuous, he could not help but ask:

"When I was a child, I once met an elderly man who saved my life. That elder claimed to be a master of mountains and rivers, though he did not say which mountain he ruled. Seventy-eight years have passed since then, and I have grown old. I wonder if you recognize him? Is he... is he still alive?"

The old abbot described the elder's features: a man of advanced age with hair as white as snow, his demeanor elegant and natural. It matched exactly what the mountain deity had said earlier. Looking at the old priest before him, whose hair and beard were also snow-white, whose back was slightly hunched, and whose skin was as thin as cicada wings and covered in wrinkles, Jiang She replied:

"That person is still in the midst of his cultivation. He is the God of Lumentan Mountain."

The old abbot’s hunched back suddenly relaxed. "That is good, that is good..." He seemed momentarily lost in thought, murmuring with emotion, "So it was the God of Lumentan Mountain. No wonder... and to think it was such a nearby place, so very near..."

Seventy-eight years had flowed away like water. A hundred years for a mortal is but a flick of the finger for an immortal. He was now old and nearing death, while his benefactor from all those years ago was still cultivating. It was truly wonderful.

The old abbot could not stop his tears from falling. He lowered his head and wiped them away with hands as rough as tree bark, whispering, "I beg your pardon for this display."

"My thanks, sir."

Neither Jiang She nor the mountain deity spoke, leaving the old priest time to process his sorrow and joy. A monk from the temple saw the abbot’s unusual state from afar and leaned in to investigate, but the abbot was unable to speak and merely waved his hand to let him know he was fine.

After a while, he lifted his head again, his eyes red, his temples white. The old abbot said, "Since you wish to attempt alchemy, please follow me to the alchemy room."