Chapter 7: The Immortal Master
“Sir, what immortal master could there possibly be?” Another servant nearby couldn’t help but add with a sob, “You’ve been reciting for half a year, asking us to look, but we’ve never seen this immortal master you speak of.”
“Doctor Wang said you were afflicted by an evil wind, causing a great change in temperament...” He choked on his words, “Sir, you should take your medicine!”
Lu Sheng ignored them, offering no reply. He averted his gaze, staring at the road outside the courtyard.
...
Under the locust tree.
Li Bai, upon seeing this, asked in wonder, “Could it be that Lu Sheng truly met an immortal master?”
“What do you think?” Jiang She inquired.
Near their ears were the servants’ continual sobs and pleas; before their eyes stood Lu Sheng in the garden, his figure lean, his gaze stubborn.
Li Bai pondered.
“It’s better that such things don’t exist.”
Jiang She nodded.
“If such a one could enter fire unscathed, walk upon the wind, play the flute while riding a crane, and live without eating the five grains—then that would truly be impossible.”
He meant a person who could withstand blazing fire without harm, move through the air as if walking on solid ground by harnessing the wind, who could leisurely play wind instruments while soaring on a crane, and who could survive solely through refining qi without consuming earthly grains like rice, millet, barley, wheat, or beans.
Such a person, Lu Sheng had not encountered.
This also implied that even if such a person existed, they might barely be called, as Li Bai just did, an “immortal master.”
They would be counted among those who pursue the Way of immortality.
Listening to Jiang She speak so casually of “immortal masters” and those divine arts recorded in “Records of the Divine Immortals” and “Records of Immortals,” Li Bai found the man increasingly profound and unfathomable.
“That would be more than an immortal master; it might be a true immortal,” Li Bai remarked.
Jiang She neither confirmed nor denied.
He was somewhat intrigued by the immortal master Lu Sheng mentioned. He had previously lived in Shu Prefecture—the very place Li Bai would later write about in “The Difficult Road to Shu”—for several years, secluded and seeking a way back. After years of fruitless search, he decided to travel, visiting sites of immortality and fellow practitioners.
No longer separated by museum glass, the swallows, goldfish, and figures in ancient attire from thousands of years ago were right before his eyes.
Although Duke Pang did not truly attain immortality as ancient texts claimed, he had met the mountain deity of Lumen Mountain who had lived since the Han dynasty.
Perhaps he could observe the immortal practitioners of this era.
To walk through this world,
And not waste this journey without a return date.
The “immortal master” Lu Sheng spoke of seemed to only fool the wealthy gentry of one county, avoiding even the county magistrate.
Their true skill was likely limited, perhaps some cleverness.
Still, worth a look.
He felt a trace of anticipation.
The courtyard was noisy and bustling. Jiang She and Li Bai stood aside, having bought two fruits from the tray, one apiece to quench their thirst.
Inside, the crowd was loud, their pleas and cries incessant.
Only Lu Sheng, the elder son of the Lu family, stood silently beside the desk, not uttering a word, as if unaware that all the begging and urging around him were caused by himself.
A flurry of light footsteps approached, mingled with the murmurs of guests.
Lu Sheng instinctively looked up.
Jiang She, finishing the last bite of his fruit, also raised his head to look.
“The matriarch has opened her eyes and wants to see the young master—”
“Be careful, the matriarch just fainted; don’t crowd around her!”
“Go, go!”
“Matriarch, matriarch—”
“Why did she faint again?”
The guests muttered among themselves, while the Lu family servants panicked, unsure what to do.
“Clatter!”
Lu Sheng was startled, knocking over a porcelain cup, shattering it on the ground.
One man stepped forward, giving orders:
“Hurry and fetch the doctor. Doctor Luo is the disciple-grandson of Sun Simiao, most skilled in treating chest tightness and heart ailments.”
“Move quickly, go at once.”
Meng Haoran, dressed in a pale blue robe, stepped forward, calming the anxious Lu servants.
“I will go at once...”
Li Bai exhaled deeply. “Fortunately, Brother Meng is here; otherwise, these people wouldn’t even know how to fetch a doctor. The Lu family used to have two or three clever servants, but today they’re nowhere to be seen—likely sold off.”
Having heard the mountain deity’s words, Li Bai knew the Lu family had such a connection with the deity of Lumen Mountain.
He sighed.
“The family fortune is declining. Today a leaf falls, signaling the year’s end.”
The Lu eldest son’s face turned pale. Seeing the old matriarch supported by many, he hurried forward, only to witness family guests and servants swarm around, some steadying her, some pressing her head, administering pills, and bustling about chaotically.
He simply stood rooted.
After a few breaths, Lu Sheng regained composure and called out.
“Butler, come here.”
The butler was a short, stout middle-aged man dressed in blue-green attire. Because it was the matriarch’s birthday and a banquet was to be held, he wore a dark red sash around his waist and a headscarf, appearing alert.
“What is it, young master?”
He hurriedly said, “I have already sent for the doctors. Doctor Luo and Doctor Song will arrive shortly. The matriarch only fainted from a sudden surge of qi and blood. She has always been healthy and will not suffer any grave incident. Please, young master, be at ease...”
His final words were laden with comforting intent.
Lu Sheng responded with a nod.
He beckoned, “Go bring the family’s account books and property lists.”
“Remember to bring the deed to the eighty acres of fields. If I recall correctly, they’re all prime land, right?”
The butler’s smiling face immediately fell, his complexion flushing from pale to red, until he was nearly crimson. After holding back for a long moment, he cursed aloud:
“Nonsense! Superstitious nonsense!”
“The matriarch fainted because of the young master, and now you want to sell the fields?”
“That so-called immortal master? Using some ghostly tricks to swindle our family’s money, and now they want to take even these last few fields! What scoundrel is this? Lower than beggars on the Way. Young master, do not be deceived by such lowly men!”
The butler despised the unknown immortal master whom the young master had met.
The guests all turned to look.
Lu Sheng’s expression changed—fear and anger mingled.
He scolded, “Butler, watch your words!”
“The immortal master’s arts are profound—they can hear our every move. You may neglect them usually, but how can you be so disrespectful now?”
After his tirade, the butler wiped away tears.
“That so-called immortal master only tricked the young master into buying books—that would be forgivable. We sell some harvest, reduce expenses, and can still get by.”
“But to sell off fields and crops, then the shops, the estate behind the city, and now to sell the last of the Lu family’s land—what kind of wicked person convinces us to sell land? They’re worse than pigs and dogs.”
At these heartbreaking matters, the butler collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
He managed the accounts and had witnessed the family’s decline firsthand; his heart ached profoundly.
He utterly hated those two “immortal masters.”
Who were these scoundrels that ruined the Lu family so terribly?
The guests had not expected the eldest son of the Lu family to be so unfilial. Hearing the butler say the matriarch fainted from her grandson’s anger, and recalling what Lu Pei had just said, things became clearer.
They whispered and pointed fingers, casting sideways glances and murmuring among themselves.
“Quite right!”
“That scoundrel deceived us of our money; heaven will not tolerate this!”
“Who are these wretched dogs and rats, deceiving us people of Xiangzhou? Lu Pei is no wise man. If one or two people say they know immortal arts, and he believes them, I say I know them too!”
Meng Haoran cast a sidelong glance toward Yuan Danqiu, who had spoken.
“Daoist, what can you do?”
“The art of levitation. Watch this.”
Yuan Danqiu leapt a foot off the ground, then landed again. He strode forward indignantly.
As a Daoist himself, he detested such foolish scams exploiting the Way.
“Lu Pei, invite that ‘immortal master’ here. I will invoke the Shangqing talisman and properly test this ‘immortal master’!”
Two hours ago, he had witnessed the legendary master who could walk in rain without a drop wet, and make dead wood bloom again. Yuan Danqiu thought coldly: no matter what immortal master this is, could they be more formidable than Jiang Langjun?
Just then, a calm voice came from outside the courtyard gate.
“Who is it, that wishes to see me?”