At dawn, the sky was only just beginning to lighten.
That Daoist priest who was about to roll up his bedding and get the hell out started making a spectacle of himself.
The Daoist priest held a Peachwood Sword, stepped on the Big Dipper, and loudly chanted some "Daoist incantation" copied from who knew where.
"Please heed my words: in antiquity there was the Great Void. Sun and moon shed their twin radiance, mountains and rivers gained their splendor. Refine a flawless Golden Core, flawless, flawless—land dragons and serpents rise to battle."
The Daoist priest flicked out a sweeping leg, kicking up a few fallen leaves from the ground. Then he balanced on one leg like a golden rooster, thrust his sword forward with his right hand, and caught a leaf precisely on its tip.
"Clear light and heavy turbidness set Yin and Yang aright. Heaven high, earth thick, their natures bear spirit. A spark of spiritual light kindles candle flames, blooming like clouds across the stars in heaven. Urgent as law decrees—gather heaven and earth into one sleeve."
The Daoist priest spun a Sword Flower, flung his left sleeve, and twisted around, sword tip pointing skyward. At the same time, he tried to sweep that leaf into his sleeve. Perhaps he had misjudged the force; the leaf spun once in the air and failed to enter his sleeve. No matter. The Daoist priest had his own remedy: he leaped up, kicked high, and pressed together the fingers of his left hand, pointing them and his sword tip in another direction.
"Keep far from wine, lust, wealth, and wrath. Cloud friends, rain companions, sun and moon as mates. Pile up pure Yang, accumulate hidden virtue. Heaven's gate turns, earth's axle spins. Jade nectar and immortal wine—Immortal Master Youfeng comes specially