Chapter Six: No Herb of Oblivion Yet—Let Us Drink the Tea of Inquiry

Within the tranquil chamber, wisps of steam curled above the teapot, forming the shapes of pine smoke and crane shadows, rising and dispersing as if conjured by an artist’s brush. Lin You delicately lifted the small purple clay teapot, pouring the freshly brewed tea from above into the cups below. His movements were fluid and graceful, a pleasure to behold.

As the crimson tea struck the porcelain, it rippled with the sound of a gentle stream—clear, unhurried, soothing to the heart. Before him, Qingyangzi sat with eyes tightly shut, seemingly oblivious to everything around him.

Lin You knew well that his companion had entered a state akin to sudden enlightenment. Though not as mystical as the tales described in martial arts novels, such a state would greatly benefit Qingyangzi’s future path in the martial disciplines.

Seeing this, Lin You did not disturb him but instead picked up his own cup. The white porcelain brimmed with amber-red tea, clear and lustrous, its fragrance intoxicating.

Amid this drifting aroma, the damage to his spirit from wandering through ancient dreams seemed to ease substantially. He took a gentle sip; the bright tea flowed smoothly down his throat and into his belly. Yet, curiously, the hot tea did not burn his mouth at all—rather, a cool, refreshing sensation slowly sank into his core, then spread throughout his entire body.

The vital energy within him surged as if nourished by some great tonic, circulating and growing stronger with remarkable speed. Soon, the sound of his bones and muscles harmonizing echoed within, his meridians resonating ceaselessly.

The martial art he practiced, “Pine Crane Longevity Technique,” began to operate on its own, and in an instant, four previously sealed meridians burst open. Including the four already unblocked, the energy now surged through eight channels, transforming from a trickling stream into a mighty river.

Now, with eight meridians open, Lin You’s martial cultivation was sufficient to make him the head of a small sect anywhere in the martial world of the Yu Kingdom.

Qingyangzi, startled awake by the commotion, stared in disbelief at the scene before him. He had seen prodigies, but never one like Lin You—opening four meridians in a day. Even with the sect’s most treasured elixirs, no one could have broken through so swiftly.

He stood dazed for a long moment before coming to his senses and spoke with heartfelt reverence, “Granduncle-Master, you are truly a being beyond mortals!”

Lin You gestured towards the cup before Qingyangzi, inviting him with a smile, “Fellow Daoist Qingyangzi, please taste this tea.”

Only then did Qingyangzi realize that the fragrance which had inspired his enlightenment came from the cup of tea before him.

With solemn respect, he wiped his hands on his robe and lifted the cup. He looked, he sniffed, he sipped. A cool current slipped down his throat, instantly stirring his own vital energy. His body shook, bones crackling with newfound strength.

He felt all the blockages within him dissolve at once, compelling him to burst into song with joy. In a moment, three meridians opened together!

His thoughts flowed like a spring, and every confusion he’d ever had about martial cultivation now unraveled. Even if he were slow-witted, he now understood how precious the tea Lin You had just offered truly was to those who walked the martial path.

Qingyangzi’s heart was full of gratitude and curiosity, and he blurted out, “Granduncle-Master, what is the name of this tea?”

“It is called ‘Seeking the Way,’” Lin You replied, his gaze seeming to pierce the walls and settle upon the swaying branches of an ancient pine.

The tea’s leaves were pine needles, the water drawn from a mountain spring. Yet the pine needles Lin You used came from the three crimson jade needles gifted by the old pine—each one imbued with the essence of the ancient tree, as potent as any spiritual herb, though their innate vitality had faded. Still, they possessed tremendous medicinal power.

Moreover, because the old pine contained a trace of the Dao, these three needles naturally carried the ability to inspire enlightenment. Thus, Lin You’s naming the brew “Seeking the Way” was most fitting.

A single cup of this tea spared Qingyangzi ten years of arduous cultivation, elevating him instantly to the level of an elder within their sect.

At this moment, Qingyangzi regarded his young granduncle-master as if he were a celestial being, completely and sincerely convinced. Even if Lin You claimed to be the reincarnation of the founder of Red Pine Palace, Qingyangzi would not doubt it for a moment.

After finishing the pot of Seeking the Way, Lin You set down his cup and turned to the matter at hand.

“Fellow Daoist Qingyangzi, when we came up the mountain earlier, I noticed both you and Qingsong looked anxious and hurried. What troubles you?”

Qingyangzi hesitated, then smiled wryly, “I must confess, Granduncle-Master, I was not entirely truthful before. The matter is difficult to speak of, so I made up an excuse to deceive you.”

He then recounted in detail the strange happenings that had beset the Daoist palace in recent times.

It began about half a month ago—strange incidents plagued the mountain. In the dead of night, as disciples slept, the mournful singing of a woman would drift outside their doors. Some, gathering their courage, ventured out to investigate, only to find themselves lost in a supernatural maze, unable to escape until dawn.

Those rescued had no memory of the night’s events, and each described entirely different scenes. Fear spread through the ranks.

Though the Red Pine Dao Institute belonged to the Daoist tradition, in truth it was a martial sect and had little power against ghosts or demons. The elders, upon hearing of the disturbances, kept vigil outside the dormitories for several days, hoping to catch the culprit behind the mischief, but found nothing.

Eventually, even two elders fell victim. Both claimed to have seen a blood-stained woman in white wandering the courtyard. Disbelieving in the supernatural, the two attacked her, but when others rushed out at the sound of the fight, they found the elders grappling with each other, seemingly possessed. Fortunately, others intervened, and the two were unharmed.

After this, the haunting could no longer be concealed. Faced with such unknown terrors, many disciples gave in to fear and fled the mountain with their belongings.

But this could not continue. In the midst of his indecision, the abbot Master Yujing recalled that two months prior, a certain Mr. Jiang had come seeking medicine. He claimed to be versed in yin-yang and the dealings of spirits, possessing the power to subdue demons. Yet, due to some inner deficiency, he sought out the palace’s spiritual herbs to restore his health, offering a fortune for a single century-old Moon Lotus.

At the time, Master Yujing, impressed by Mr. Jiang’s bearing, received him personally. Their conversation revealed Jiang’s extraordinary insight and knowledge. He even demonstrated a magical paper-cutting technique—shaping a piece of paper into a moon that illuminated a dark room—leaving Yujing in awe.

However, the century-old Moon Lotus was one of Red Pine Palace’s greatest treasures. Only two such blooms existed in the world, each with the power to revive the dead and restore flesh to bone—not easily bought with gold and silver. Though Mr. Jiang offered a generous price, Master Yujing ultimately declined, allowing him only a thirty-year-old Moon Lotus as consolation.

Now, with the mountain plagued by such troubles, it was impossible to make these matters public. After much deliberation, Master Yujing sent Qingyangzi and Qingsong down the mountain with a fifty-year-old Moon Lotus to invite Mr. Jiang’s assistance.

Qingyangzi explained all these events to Lin You in detail.

Lin You listened thoughtfully. Following his master Songhe Daoist across the land, he had encountered many strange happenings, even witnessing mountain and river spirits, yet never had he seen a true ghost.

Still, the unseen cannot be dismissed as nonexistent. The events at Red Pine Palace were indeed intriguing.

Noticing Lin You’s silence, Qingyangzi ventured, “Granduncle-Master, did Grandmaster Songhe ever encounter such things? Did he pass down any techniques for capturing spirits?”

To the disciples of Red Pine Palace, Songhe Daoist was almost a sage, and as his heir, Lin You might possess just such secret arts.

Lin You laughed, “Though my master taught me much martial lore, there was nothing about catching ghosts. But this Mr. Jiang is interesting—he leaves, and soon after, the hauntings begin. It’s quite the coincidence.”

Qingyangzi frowned, “You mean, it was Mr. Jiang behind this?”

Lin You shook his head with a smile. “That’s not what I mean. In this world, truth and falsehood mingle, hard to distinguish. But I do have a method that might reveal the truth.”

“What method?” Qingyangzi asked eagerly.

“It’s simple. Tonight, let me see for myself.” Lin You gazed out the window as he spoke.

But it was still midday, with many hours until nightfall. Lin You had Qingyangzi come close and quietly gave him detailed instructions.

…

Meanwhile, Qingsong and Zhang Nian’kang’s group had crossed the long bridge, arriving beneath the city walls. At the gate, several Zhang family servants, who had been waiting, came forward to collect the luggage and bring out fine horses, leading the three through the gate into the city.