Chapter 17 Chapter Seventeen — May One Attain Eternal Life?

When Li Daoxuan woke again, he saw a flickering fire.

Zhang Qianyang sat by the flames, roasting a pheasant, studying a short sword by the firelight — the very high-grade artifact Li Daoxuan had newly gained, the ancient Fish-Intestine Sword.

Li Daoxuan looked around. This was no longer Li Family Village, but the peak of some nameless wild mountain. The moon above was clear and bright; the thick yin energy was gone.

"Awake?"

Zhang Qianyang took the wine gourd from his belt and tossed it over. "Your yang energy is depleted. This wine is brewed from century-old vermilion fruit; take a sip, fortify the body."

Li Daoxuan sat up — and found his whole body ice-cold, the fire doing nothing to warm him.

He quickly took a drink; the fiery liquor slid down his throat into his stomach and turned to streams of warmth, like a burning clay stove, instantly driving the chill from his limbs.

Li Daoxuan would have taken another, but the gourd blurred before his eyes — Zhang Qianyang had taken it back.

"Heh. Not that this Daoist begrudges you, boy, but your cultivation is too shallow; too much will do you no good."

He tossed the Fish-Intestine Sword back to Li Daoxuan. "Fine blade. Who'd have thought, with your paltry mana, such fortune — had it not been for this sword, you'd not have lasted till I arrived."

Li Daoxuan asked, "Daoist… what of the ghost bride?"

Zhang Qianyang shot him a glance, then drew from his bosom a small cloth pouch, painted with the innate Eight Trigrams in cinnabar.

Most strange — the pouch trembled faintly, now and then bulging at a corner, as if something within struggled unceasingly.

"She was wounded by me and shut inside. What — you wish to kill her yourself?"

Li Daoxuan shook his head. "Forget it. She too is a wretch, in truth. If you can deliver her, Daoist, I beg you do."

Zhang Qianyang eyed him, surprised. "She near took your life — you bear her no hate?"

"Hate."

Li Daoxuan spoke calmly. "But that I could slay the burial-robed vengeful ghost was only thanks to the elders in the shrine. Now of all Li Family Village, she may be the last remaining. If it can be done, I would repay their kindness."

A glimmer of approval crossed Zhang Qianyang's eyes. He liked this boy more and more — sharp-witted, bold, yet holding to his principles, not blinded by hatred. Such a temperament, were he not to walk the Dao, would be a true waste.

And since Li Daoxuan had nearly died in part because Zhang Qianyang's love of drink had delayed his return, guilt moved him to speak first. "Boy, would you cultivate the Dao?"

Li Daoxuan's eyes lit — he had waited for these very words!

"Yes!"

He answered at once, hiding nothing of his longing.

Zhang Qianyang stroked his sparse beard and asked abruptly, "Then why do you wish to cultivate the Dao?"

Li Daoxuan's heart skipped — he knew this was a test. If his answer displeased, all the good impression he had built would come to nothing.

The author publishes this chapter on NovelPhoenix, although the copy presented here was made without their consent.

He did not rush. He closed his eyes and thought.

Zhang Qianyang was in no hurry; he ate his roast pheasant, drank his strong liquor, and waited in silence.

After a long while Li Daoxuan opened his eyes, gaze clear, and said, "For eternal life."

He had thought of many fair phrases — to subdue demons and defend the Way, to keep the realm at peace, and such — but in the end chose to follow his heart.

To cultivate the Dao is for eternal life; slaying demons is but the use of its arts, while refining one's nature and nurturing one's life is the root of the Way.

He did not wish to pass through endless cycles, round and round, sinking life after life in the sea of suffering. He wished to leap beyond the three realms and the five elements, to become, from a playing piece, the one who plays.

In Journey to the West, the Patriarch Subodhi named many a spell, yet the Monkey would learn none, asking only one thing: may one attain eternal life?

That monkey, too, lived within Li Daoxuan's heart.

At Li Daoxuan's answer, a strange light flashed in Zhang Qianyang's eyes. He sneered. "Eternal life? What a mouthful!"

"Even the Old Celestial Master of Mount Longhu, and that Master Ye of Maoshan — with their earth-shaking power and fathomless cultivation — would not dare claim eternal life. Boy, to attain it you'd have to become an immortal ancestor."

Li Daoxuan was unmoved. "Then I shall become an immortal ancestor!"

Zhang Qianyang stared at him, a little dazed — in this youth he seemed to see his own young self.

The same rare talent, the same towering pride, the same deeds to match his words.

Pity that times had changed; he, after that affair, had long since lost the fire of those years.

Zhang Qianyang's gaze was complex. After a long while he snorted, "Mere stripling — what arrogance!"

Li Daoxuan's eyes dimmed with disappointment; he had answered wrong, then — no hope of taking the master.

But Zhang Qianyang's tone turned. "Yet this Daoist rather likes that hard temper of yours. Heh — I'd like to see whether, once you've tasted how bitter the Dao truly is, you can still spout such boasting."

Li Daoxuan's head snapped up, eyes bright with delight.

He moved at once to kneel and pay his respects.

Heaven, earth, sovereign, kin, master — the ancients esteemed the bond of teacher above even blood; in the cultivation line especially, master and disciple is the greatest karma of all, the word "master" weighty as a mountain.

But Zhang Qianyang stopped him.

"None of that kneeling yet. This Daoist has a rule in taking disciples: mine must meet four standards — wisdom, courage, faith, and righteousness. You hold to principle; with slight cultivation you dared slay the bat demon; you know to use outside aid — wisdom, courage, righteousness, all satisfied. But faith…"

He went on, "We who cultivate make a promise worth a thousand pieces of gold; debts of kindness must be repaid, words given must be kept. You promised the villagers of Xiaosha Village to rid them of the serpent demon. Fail at that — how can you be my disciple?"

Li Daoxuan paused, then explained, "Daoist, I did not deceive them; it is only that my arts are meager now — wait until I—"

Zhang Qianyang shook his head. "Tell me, what month is it?"

"Fifth month."

"Farmers labor mostly in the fifth month. Though the court's taxes are light now — since the Zhenguan Emperor ascended he has lightened corvée and taxes, and given the people rest — yet the folk who have just emerged from war, what grain have they left?"

Li Daoxuan fell silent. He recalled the thin gruel and wild greens at the old village elder's house — for the lowliest folk, that had been a feast.

"They hide now in Longshou Mountain, dare not till the fields, living on scant stores — how will they survive the next winter?"

Watching the silent Li Daoxuan, Zhang Qianyang said with meaning, "Sometimes, what kills is not only demons."

Li Daoxuan bowed to him deeply, moved. "Many thanks for your teaching, Daoist!"

"Only my mana is low — might you lend a hand too, Daoist? Not much — only three or five more of those death-substitution jades?"

Li Daoxuan suddenly put on a fawning smile, sidling closer.

Zhang Qianyang's face went black; he roared, "Begone! Those life-saving jades were the old man's gift, worth a fortune — gone, not one left!"

Yet in the end he gave Li Daoxuan a pointer.

"The serpent demon's cultivation is high, but to subdue a demon you cannot rely on brute force alone — use your head, ponder the principle that all things engender and overcome one another."

With that he clapped Li Daoxuan's shoulder and coughed. "That bat-demon core in your bosom, and those three gold ingots — I'll take them for now. The core's scent is thick; it was by that the serpent tracked you down."

"As for the three ingots of gold — well, they're heavy; I feared they'd weigh you down. Right, then. This Daoist has matters to attend to; I take my leave. Once you've slain the serpent demon, bring its corpse to the Zhenyang Daoist Temple in Xinyang County, and find me there."

Scarce had he spoken than, as if fearing Li Daoxuan's protest, he stamped the ground and rose upon the wind, and in a few breaths was gone into the moonlight.

Li Daoxuan: "…"