Chapter 68: Prince Qi Visits the Taoist Temple

Asked this, the middle-aged man recalled what he had witnessed during the day.

That person had simply waved a hand casually, summoning all the nether spirits from beneath the cliff and delivering them all to salvation. It was done with such effortless ease, as if it were nothing at all.

When descending the mountain, that person had not employed any Daoist magic or divine powers, but instead walked down calmly and plainly, just like any ordinary mortal.

As for his level...

The middle-aged man weighed his words before saying:

"At least much higher than both of you, and much higher than your master as well."

Sanshui asked with curiosity, "Does that mean he can harness the breath of heaven and earth and travel several miles in a single stride?"

That was certainly possible, as even he could achieve that much... Recalling the sights of the day, the middle-aged man was uncertain how profound that person's Daoist arts truly were, and glanced at his two disciples.

He scolded:

"Knowing it in your hearts is enough. It is already the second watch of the戌 hour, why aren't you off to bed yet!"

"Be more respectful to others from now on, and do not be as noisy and clamorous as you were today."

Having driven the two youths off to sleep, the courtyard grew much quieter.

The middle-aged man let out a slow breath. He walked back into his room, lit a candle, and wrote a letter to the mountains, conveying what he had witnessed today... along with the news of his senior brother's ascension.

Mentioning the cause of his senior brother's death inevitably required much explanation to the mountain sect, and he also touched upon the nether ghosts beneath the cliff.

He spoke of encountering a senior with profound Daoist arts, though he knew neither his identity nor the celestial abode of his origin.

After finishing, he set down his brush, read through the letter once, and sat by the desk in silence for a long time.

He pushed open the window to let in some fresh air, struck by the cold, biting moonlight—a chill that felt almost devoid of human warmth.

His thoughts drifted far away.

The Great Dao is arduous.

After fifty years of cultivation, old friends were withering away one by one.

When his own life reached its end, in what place would he draw his last breath?

...

Early the next morning.

An inner court eunuch arrived at Hongdao Temple, and after a brief conversation with the abbot, the temple closed its gates to visitors. Having finished their morning lessons, the two young disciples saw a troop of guards arrive, patrolling back and forth.

They watched with curious eyes for a long time.

There were no guards in the mountains, and having visited Hongdao Temple before, they had never seen such people, whose uniforms looked so imposing.

The guards noticed the two children staring.

They stepped forward to ask the Daoist priests what the pair was doing.

A priest explained, "These are the children of old acquaintances of our Hongdao Temple. They came to visit the temple a few days ago, unaware of Your Excellency's arrival."

"Are they also of the Daoist sect? Which temple do they belong to?"

The priest replied, "They are from Yunmeng Mountain. There is no established temple there, they merely cultivate in tranquility among the mountains."

Once the guards had left...

Sanshui and Chuyi eagerly vied to ask:

"What were those distinguished guests they mentioned?"

"Who is coming today?"

"Are they high-ranking officials?"

The priests held great patience for the disciples of Yunmeng Mountain, as the health-preserving regimen currently practiced at Hongdao Temple originated from Yunmeng Mountain itself. The abbot had dropped hints to them that what was cultivated on Yunmeng Mountain was true celestial Daoist magic...

It could prolong life.

It could also grant freedom across heaven and earth.

Facing these two young disciples, the priest felt a twinge of envy.

He smiled and said, "Today, a distinguished guest from the imperial household is arriving, which is why we must clear away ordinary pilgrims. The entire temple must be purified with burning incense to cleanse the sacred ground. Those guards are here to prevent any miscreants from appearing."

An imperial guest...

Was it the royal family of Li Tang?

The two youths listened with growing curiosity.

Lifting their small heads, they asked, "Must we also withdraw?"

The priest could not help but pat their heads; their little buns of hair tied up together were soft and fluffy.

The priest recalled watching them practice their morning lessons earlier—like dragonflies skimming the water, they could glide lightly across the ground, as weightless as feathers.

He said, "Naturally not."

"You are not people of the mortal dust."

The two children were somewhat perplexed. They knew they were cultivators of the Dao, different from the people down the mountain.

Yet, raising their eyes, they saw the heavily guarded sentries not far away, saw the priest exchanging greetings and words with them, and many familiar Daoist priests welcoming guests outside.

There were also servants kneeling on the ground, clearing the paths and sweeping away the dust.

A heavy feeling settled in their chests.

Sanshui looked at the servants kneeling on the ground without a word. She stood beneath a tree, lost in thought for so long that her legs grew somewhat numb, before she sprinted off to find her master. Dragging him all the way back, she pointed at one of the men and blurted out:

"Master, can people like that learn the Dao just like us?"

The middle-aged man looked over.

It was a servant in grayish-brown clothes, looking to be in his forties.

Stroking his beard, he said, "He is a bit too old, and his aptitude is poor. He is not suited to enter the Dao."

"Why do you ask about this?"

Sanshui remained silent.

Sensing something, the middle-aged man asked her:

"Look at him, past forty years of age—which in the mortal world is the age of freedom from doubt. He surely has children and grandchildren. Would he be willing to cast everything aside and enter the mountains to cultivate?"

The two children kept quiet.

The middle-aged man sighed softly.

He weighed his words, explaining the harsh reality in a way the children could understand.

"Even if he were to enter the sect and practice the Dao wholeheartedly, what do you think would happen?"

Chuyi answered, "Then he wouldn't have to live like this."

The middle-aged man said, "Entering the master's fold to seek the Dao past the age of forty, with meager aptitude, he would still only have a natural lifespan of fifty or sixty, or perhaps seventy years. How many years would it take him to truly enter the Dao and prolong his life?"

"Moreover, he has a family. He has a household to support, aging parents above, and children and grandchildren below."

"Though it is hard work, he can also enjoy the warmth of familial affection."

"Compared to entering a mountain sect for quiet cultivation,"

"In your master's view, he would much rather be favored by a noble patron, become a minor official, or a wealthy merchant with no shortage of money. Or perhaps have his household registration removed, be granted a hundred acres of fertile land, and live in the countryside as a minor gentry."

"To live a life of wealth and honor, surrounded by wives and concubines, with children and grandchildren filling the hall."

"That is what he truly desires."

Sanshui and Chuyi lowered their heads. They had always believed that studying the Dao was the greatest thing in the entire world.

Only now did they realize that some people did not wish to seek it at all.

The two did not stay downcast for long.

Before long, sounds drifted from outside—the footsteps of many people, accompanied by the abbot conversing with someone.

A figure clad in apricot-colored brocade robes walked in, surrounded by Daoist priests, subordinate officials, and a large retinue of guards, making for a magnificent procession.

The abbot of Hongdao Temple, Daoist Taihe, accompanied him personally, discussing matters of the Dao. The distinguished guest spoke only occasionally, while his subordinate officials did most of the talking.

The guest's face was pale, as if suffering from some deficiency.

He coughed a couple of times.

His subordinate officials looked deeply worried.

One of them said, "We have heard that the Abbot has always excelled in the art of alchemy, having transcended mortal limits, and possesses profound mastery in medicine. We wonder... how this affliction of chest tightness and labored breathing might be treated and recuperated?"

...

Sanshui and Chuyi were still craning their necks to look, attracting quite a few glances.

Unwilling to bring extra trouble to Hongdao Temple, the middle-aged man led his two disciples back to their courtyard.

As soon as they stepped inside, the two asked:

"Is that the great king of the mortal world?"

"How imposing! I didn't even get a clear look at what he looks like."

Practitioners of the Dao possessed sharp eyes and ears and could sense the heaven and earth to a certain degree; the middle-aged man had overheard a few words of the conversation earlier. "That is the Prince of Qi. He is in poor health and has come to seek elixirs."

Before the two children could continue firing off questions,

The middle-aged man swept a glance over them.

"Tidy yourselves up. Shortly, I will take you out to pay respects to that senior."

"Be on your best behavior!"

The young disciple asked, "How respectful should we be?"

Finding them far too talkative, the middle-aged man decided that upon returning, he would punish the two disciples by making them copy scriptures to temper their minds.

Recalling the sliver of Daoist magic that senior had casually displayed,

The middle-aged man stroked his long beard, stared at the two of them, and slowly said:

"However respectful the priests of Hongdao Temple are to you, that is how respectful the two of you must be to that senior."