Qi WuHuo pressed one hand against the pill furnace. His vital energy flowed and shifted as he added various herbs and liquid essences, then refined their medicinal properties and condensed them into Qi Nourishing Elixirs. His alchemy was hardly masterful; in many places, it still showed signs of inexperience, even obvious mistakes.
Among these Mountain Gods, some were more practiced at alchemy than he was.
But the youth had only to raise his hand and draw upon the power of a Mountain God to summon the radiance of the sun and moon. With a single gesture, he conjured a magnificent scene they had never seen before.
They had existed for three or five hundred years, yet had never seen anyone open a furnace and refine pills with the sun and moon at a single gesture!
The flowing light of the sun and moon entered the pills. Qi WuHuo's understanding of alchemy came only from the General Principle, but as he refined them, a vague realization suddenly came to him: the sun was yang, and yang was the heart, the nature, the Primordial Spirit; the moon was yin, and yin was the kidneys, the primordial essence. The Golden Crow and Jade Rabbit also represented the sun and moon. Their alternating cycles, going and returning, perfectly matched the method of refining the Primordial Spirit and primordial essence.
How strange.
The alchemical method passed down by the old man was clearly a method for refining external elixirs, yet it was also a path to refining internal elixirs.
Could it be that, in the eyes of cultivation, the inner and outer were one, and the human body was no different from Heaven and Earth?
Had he gained a method of cultivation from the art of alchemy?
Or had he grasped the art of alchemy through a method of cultivation?
Qi WuHuo vaguely understood. He sensed that the lineage passed down by the old man seemed especially skilled in alchemy. It was both a method of inner cultivation and an exceptionally profound art of alchemy. Even when refining pills, one was practicing the cultivation method; and when practicing the cultivation method, one was refining pills.
"Refine the elixir, make it medicine; in the mortal world, only the ashes of longevity remain..."
"Medicine, the ashes of longevity."
"This isn't merely the General Principle of alchemy. It must also be one of the General Principles of cultivation."
Qi WuHuo understood. He followed the method of circulating his breath in cultivation to collect the pills. A strange fragrance wafted through the air, and the pill furnace suddenly began to shake violently.
The furnace opened.
One pill after another flew out, trailing streaks of light. Qi WuHuo now had the realm of Primordial Prenatal Qi. So although he fumbled a little at first, he still managed to collect every pill without letting a single one fall outside. "These pills nourish the qi. When taken by cultivators, they can increase their vital energy."
The burly man from earlier accepted the pills, then changed his mind about simply visiting to meet his Mountain God neighbors. Gritting his teeth, he said:
"Today, the mountain master has taken up his position. I have a gift to offer as well. I hope you won't think it too shabby." He then presented a jade box. Inside lay a ginseng root with all its tendrils intact, faint golden light shimmering around it. It was clearly no ordinary thing. The other Mountain Gods rose too, each saying they had a gift to present.
Some brought a pair of white jade tablets, others a famous zither, and one offered a sword.
But most brought the rare treasures of the mountains: all kinds of spirit herbs, each three or five hundred years old, their Spiritual Qi flowing within them. An ordinary person need only eat a bite to greatly boost their vital energy; cultivators could replenish their energy at once by swallowing one. All sorts of treasures filled the table. This time, Qi WuHuo did not refuse. He stored them away with the storage ability of his sword case.
Elder Tao stroked his beard. He had originally prepared a pill as a gift, but now he paused and took out a scroll instead.
He ran his palm over it, then, under the astonished gazes of those present, gently set the Jade Book on the table.
It was made of white jade, with a list of names in gold.
Elder Tao seemed reluctant to part with it, but in the end he let go and smiled. "This is a little of what this old man has accumulated. It records the names and auras of the many Mountain Gods and Earthly Deities throughout the vast territory of Zhongzhou. WuHuo, if you travel the world in the future and encounter hardship, activate this Jade Book with your magic power. If any Mountain Gods or Earthly Deities are nearby and sense its aura, they will come to your aid."
This time, the old man showed not the slightest trace of shrewdness or calculation for profit. He simply cupped his hands in salute and sighed with heartfelt emotion:
"You let me glimpse the Great Dao. This is how things should be."
"If it were otherwise, my heart would be burdened with guilt, and I could never make further progress."
Qi WuHuo returned the salute, accepted the Jade Book, and put it away.
Seeing that everyone was immersed in their insights, he said nothing and rose to leave. The little Deer Spirit noticed him moving. As the youth stood, he smiled and bent down, gently rubbing the spirit beast's head with one hand. With the other, he held a finger to his lips. A lock of black hair fell beside his temples, and his eyes shone with clear laughter.
Then he whispered:
"I'm leaving."
As the two Guardian Divine Generals escorted him down the mountain, Qi WuHuo said:
"Let's keep to our agreement from that year: a discussion of the Dao every three years, and an alchemy session every year."
The two generals replied respectfully, "Yes!"
After hesitating, they stepped forward and bowed. "Mountain God, we looked down on you earlier because of your age. Please don't—" They did not finish. When they looked up, Qi WuHuo had already turned and left. The blue-robed youth waved a hand over his shoulder to show he didn't mind, the sword case on his back, and took several strides.
He walked farther and farther away, disappearing into the mountains and mist, until they could no longer see him.
Thus ended the banquet.
The wind sent him on his winter's way.
On and on he went, the mountain road winding into the depths of the clouds.
After leaving, Qi WuHuo did not head straight down the mountain. Instead, he turned aside to find Huang Jing and greet him. The little fellow scrambled upright and perched on his shoulder. The youth teased the Huang Jing, who was just shy of a thousand years of cultivation, with his finger, then smiled and looked around. "It looks like, before leaving, he helped you set up a powerful formation."
"With the level of cultivation he had when he left, you should be quite safe here."
After some more teasing and play, the little figure formed from the Huang Jing's vital energy slipped underground again. The youth stood and walked all around the mountain. He took out the gifts the Mountain Gods had given him—spirit herbs holding three or five hundred years of vital energy—and, along the way, found secluded places to dig into the earth and replant them.
Here, these spirit herbs could continue to grow.
The mountain's spiritual veins would grow stronger along with them, and the herbs would release vital energy, slowly transforming the surrounding land.
Qi WuHuo planted the last ginseng root and watched its spiritual aura gradually spread. He breathed out softly. As he rose, he looked at the mountain before him. When he had come here as a boy, he had survived by relying on its fruits and deadwood. He cupped his hands slightly and said with a smile, "The New Year is almost here. Mountain, I wish you a happy New Year too."
Naturally, there was no answer.
The youth himself was amused by the joke.
He turned and headed down the mountain, gathering pinecones along the way. The dry ones without seeds made excellent firewood, and some still had seeds. In winter's bitter cold, they would not spoil easily. Before long, he had filled a back basket. He wiped one clean, brought it to his mouth, and took a bite. Its juice was sweet and refreshing, just right for quenching his thirst. He had been talking for nearly the whole day; even a cultivator would get thirsty.
After turning down several paths, he heard a commotion. Farther ahead, he saw a crowd moving forward with gongs and drums.
And there he was, face-to-face with Qi WuHuo.
At the front, several strong men carried a palanquin. On it sat a statue of the Mountain God, wrapped in silk.
The statue was wound all over with red silk embroidered with fine words like "May all go as you wish" and "The Mountain God blesses all." Beside it were officials and wealthy gentlemen from the town, dressed in fine silks and looking immaculate. When they saw Qi WuHuo coming down the mountain with a basket on his back, eating as he walked, the cuff of his sleeve smeared with black mud from planting the spirit herbs, they first looked surprised, then let a hint of contempt show in their eyes.
On the surface, however, they remained perfectly courteous, cupping their hands in greeting.
"Well, I said the magpies were calling today."
"So it's young Master Qi. It's the depths of winter, and you're not keeping warm at home. What brings you up the mountain?"
"I was gathering some firewood," Qi WuHuo replied.
"Oh, I see."
"We've gathered everyone in town to make an image of the Mountain God. We're here to build a temple and set up the statue."
"We didn't inform you earlier because there are no elders in your household, WuHuo. Heh heh, if you have time in the future, you can come up the mountain to burn incense too. After all, you're from our town, and you know the Mountain God."
"Don't worry, we won't charge you incense money."
"I'll cover it for you," the wealthy gentleman said with a smile.
Qi WuHuo thought for a moment, then nodded. "All right."
"Much obliged."
"Thank you."
The gentleman smiled again. "The path is a little narrow..."
The blue-robed youth nodded, then stepped aside and watched as many people headed up the mountain. Some carried a large plaque. Then he turned his gaze away, took another bite of the frozen mountain pear, and walked downhill. His steps were light, his woven bamboo basket on his back, one hand gripping its strap. A mountain sparrow landed on his shoulder, pecking at the black hair hanging beside his temple.
The child, only fourteen years old, walked down the mountain into the wind, yet looked two or three parts handsome and refined.
One man went up the mountain.
Another came down.
As the youth descended, he tossed the half-eaten pear to the big yellow dog wagging its tail at him, and waved for the mountain sparrow to fly away. He saw cooking smoke rise from the homes in the dusk and heard shouts behind him:
"Revere—the Mountain God!"
At last, he couldn't help bursting into laughter.
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