No Liberation

When the Earth God, Elder Tao, lifted his palm from the waist token, he felt its fine, cool touch fade away. A trace of reluctance lingered in his heart. The Ming Zhen Dao Alliance was one of the larger, relatively open and neutral factions. With this token, one could imprint one's Primordial Spirit upon it and borrow the Alliance's power to accomplish many things.

One could join cultivators in a city to discuss the Dao, or invite an expert to explain questions about cultivation.

One could also seek rare Spirit Grass and treasures.

The Ming Zhen Dao Alliance was no ordinary Marketplace in the Human World.

It was an organization founded on the principle of "Ming Zhen to shatter delusion, and thereby seek the Great Dao." Its so-called transactions only allowed barter.

Now and then, ordinary people would stumble into it through sheer chance. That, too, counted as an unexpected encounter with Immortal Destiny.

Divine Abilities and Marvelous Dharma, elixirs and jade scriptures, the greatest treasures under heaven—this place had them all.

And with a token in hand, one could learn in advance when the Ming Zhen Dao Alliance's Dao-discussion gatherings would take place.

They were all things Elder Tao found quite tempting. Besides, the news concerned the Ming Zhen Dao Alliance. So earlier, even though Tantai Xuan had been caught by the tiger and killed by Qi WuHuo, Elder Tao had still taken the token with him. After all, he had also helped slay Tantai Xuan's soul, while the youth was merely a cultivator of meager skill. The token was useless to him, so it was only reasonable for Elder Tao to take it.

But what he had just witnessed had put that thought to rest.

He had taken it out now of his own accord to forge a bond of goodwill.

Even if he was the Fortunate Earth Deity, and the youth before him still seemed to have only ordinary cultivation—

The words "Supreme One" alone carried that much weight.

Even if Qi WuHuo's belonging to the Supreme One lineage was only Elder Tao's guess.

It was still the same!

Those outside the Daoist tradition could not know the weight of those two words.

Qi WuHuo looked at the token.

Even now, with his vital energy and Primordial Spirit depleted, he forced himself to stand. His body was weak, but he still bowed solemnly. "Thank you..."

The calamity in Jinzhou years ago had wiped out all his relatives and friends. The last teacher who had treated him kindly had died there, too. He had seen people become less than human and things become unrecognizable. He had thought it was merely a natural disaster, but now it seemed he had glimpsed another angle—

The Ming Zhen Dao Alliance might be a turning point.

A chance to truly understand what had happened back then.

Elder Tao gave a slight start. Seeing the sorrow on the blue-robed youth's face, he recalled the things Qi WuHuo had said on the mountain. Thinking of a nine-year-old child enduring that calamity, even the old Earth God, with all his schemes and calculations, could not help feeling compassion. He sighed and comforted him. "Little Daoist friend WuHuo, the dead cannot be brought back to life... Take care, take care..."

"Though Buddhism differs from our Daoist tradition, its teaching of letting go does have something to recommend it."

"Truthfully, letting go of your attachments now and then isn't a bad choice."

"Forget the past, and you may behold the Tathagata."

The youth accepted the token with utmost care, then replied:

"Mother died first. Father followed."

"My teacher went to the Marketplace and traded me back to the human world."

"Elder Tao..."

"Have you ever seen people eat one another?"

The old man fell silent.

He sighed inwardly for a long while, exchanged a few pleasantries, then rose to take his leave. By then, his words carried a measure of genuine warmth. "Little brother WuHuo, you can come up the mountain from time to time. This old man has cultivated here for a long while and traveled the world as well. I have quite a few texts on the Five Arts of the Daoist tradition. We can talk about them."

"Besides, the Mountain God is on the verge of a breakthrough. He won't stay here long after he breaks through; he'll soon roam the world."

"We ought to gather while we still can."

By then, Qi WuHuo had recovered a little of his vital energy. He still forced himself to his feet to escort the old man out.

Elder Tao stopped by the wooden gate and smiled as he held him back. "Little brother WuHuo, your vital energy hasn't recovered yet. There's no need to see me out."

Qi WuHuo stood at the doorway, thought for a moment, then said:

"Elder Tao just mentioned..."

"Buddhism says all living beings suffer, and that letting go brings liberation."

Elder Tao nodded. "That's right."

Then he saw the fourteen- or fifteen-year-old boy smile gently.

The youth was handsome and clear-eyed in the flush of his prime, like a bright moon in a cloudless sky.

He replied:

"If that's so..."

"May I never find liberation."

Elder Tao's smile faltered, and the hand stroking his beard came to an abrupt halt. As if the words had touched something within him, his thoughts churned. Then he sighed, clasped his hands in farewell, and turned to leave. When he reached the mouth of the alley, he saw that the youth was still standing at the doorway, watching him go. The old Earth God sighed again and murmured:

"Living beings everywhere seek the inheritance of the Dao, but who knows that the Dao's lineages also choose their disciples by character?"

"Both Confucian and Daoist—he truly belongs to the Supreme One lineage..."

The old man sighed for a long while. Then he stamped a foot, and his body sank into the earth's veins. Like a fish swimming through water, he traveled dozens of miles in an instant before emerging in a splendid place. Neat rows of buildings stood before him, no less grand than the mansions of the city's wealthy. Inside were many antiques from centuries past, lending the place an air of antiquity.

A couplet hung at the entrance.

The first line read: "Small temple, mighty powers."

The second line read: "High heavens, sun and moon endure."

Past the first room stood another entrance. It looked much like the Land God Temple in town, only larger, and it, too, bore a couplet.

The first line read: "Laugh not at my small temple and humble god; make a wish and see."

The second read: "Presume not upon your power and influence; dare do evil, and see what follows."

In the past, the old man had been rather proud of this couplet. But now, looking at it and thinking of the youth's nature beneath that gentle exterior, he suddenly found the second line painfully jarring. As he swept inside, he saw the other two Earth Gods were already there. Shen Hongxue, dressed in brown, was drinking, while Luo Yizhen smiled down at a scroll.

When Elder Tao entered, Luo Yizhen looked up and said with a smile, "You're rather late, old brother. Where have you been?"

Shen Hongxue chuckled. "Judging by where you came from, Elder Tao, you must have gone to see the Mountain God's new friend—that snot-nosed brat. How is he? Does he have what it takes to cultivate and attain the Dao?"

But the usually kind-faced, affable Earth God set his teacup down on the table and snapped, "What do you mean, 'snot-nosed brat'?!"

His voice had sharpened, leaving Shen Hongxue and Luo Yizhen both stunned.

Then Elder Tao paused, clasped his hands, and said solemnly:

"He's Fellow Daoist Qi!"

After seeing Elder Tao off, Qi WuHuo walked back to the stone table one unsteady step at a time. His legs wobbled, and he sank into his seat.

He let out a long breath. His face looked listless, though a faint brightness still glimmered in his eyes. He rubbed the token, the only lead he had for now, and sat lost in thought. After a long while, he sighed again and turned his gaze to the Black Iron Sword Box.

He reached out and rubbed the sword box. It was icy to the touch, its chill seeming to seep through his fingertips and into his bones.

It was a decent magical treasure.

Qi WuHuo faintly sensed a place within it that could hold his vital energy. As his energy circulated, the sword box suddenly clattered several times. A stream of light burst from its surface. The treasure's radiance flared brightly, and in the next instant, several objects flew out of the box and landed neatly on the table. Qi WuHuo was startled, realizing he had activated the treasure without meaning to.

These things must have been the Evil Cultivator's hoard.

There were quite a few of them, enough to cover the whole table.

At a closer look, they seemed to fall into several categories. The first things that caught his eye were three white porcelain bottles with slender necks.

There were also several small boxes, each containing Medicinal materials and other materials.

A sword, its blade wrapped in red cords, radiated an ominous air.

A bundle containing crystal-like objects that gave off a white glow.

A small, jade-green three-legged pill furnace that could rest in the palm of his hand.

Besides those, there was a book with yellowed pages.

"Are these... cultivation notes?"

"Or something related to the Ming Zhen Dao Alliance?"

Qi WuHuo ignored the objects glowing with spiritual light.

Instead, he picked up the scroll and opened it. The first line made him freeze.

Record of Becoming Immortal.