When Qi WuHuo returned home, he saw that the old man was still calm and composed, brewing tea. Seeing him return, he asked unhurriedly, "WuHuo, you're back?"
"Mm."
"How did your lecture go today?"
Qi WuHuo told him truthfully, then added, "Everything I spoke about today came from Tantai Xuan's Record of Becoming Immortal and the Cultivation notes my friend left behind. I didn't share anything you taught me, old man." He still remembered the old man saying that some things were "known only to you and me, and passed on only by you." Those could not be shared with others.
The old man stroked his beard and smiled. "To draw inferences from one thing and understand other cultivation methods—you've begun to grasp the basics."
"Good. Very good."
Then he lifted his tea, but did not drink.
He had brought the cup close to his lips, but seemed to remember something and stopped.
Holding the cup, he spoke lightly, calm as a gentle breeze, as though nothing were amiss:
"And what about alchemy?"
Qi WuHuo immediately recounted the various methods and techniques he had used while making pills. The old man nodded. "Where did you learn those methods?" Qi WuHuo thought for a moment, then answered, "When I was preparing to open the furnace, I remembered the General Principle of alchemy you told me. I suddenly realized that the methods of alchemy were the same as the way one circulated cultivation, so I tried it."
The old man asked, "Is that all?"
Qi WuHuo thought again, then shook his head.
The old man seemed to relax a little.
Qi WuHuo answered, "While I was making pills, I saw the sun and moon appearing together on a winter afternoon, and gained some insight."
"I decided to give it a try."
"Fortunately, nothing went wrong."
A look of relief appeared on the boy's face. Then he continued:
"Later, I remembered what you said: the sun is the heart, and cultivating it cultivates one's nature; the moon is the kidneys, and cultivating them cultivates one's life."
"The sun rises and the moon sets, day after day. It's as though they urge each other onward, yet there's a mysterious harmony to it. Each day comes neither too late nor too early. It's as if Heaven and Earth were also a human body. Watching the sun and moon turn in their courses is like cultivating both nature and life: one must not rush, nor fall behind. One must cultivate every day without slackening. That's why it's called 'departing and returning.'"
His voice faded. He reined in the youthful excitement he so rarely showed, sat up straight, and said softly:
"It's all just wild guesses of mine. I don't know if I'm right or wrong..."
The old man's movements paused for an instant. He asked gently:
"What else?"
Qi WuHuo hesitated, then said, "If the sun and moon turn in their courses like the cultivation of both nature and life..."
"Then could Heaven and Earth also be a human body?"
"Or, although a person is small, could there be a whole Heaven and Earth within?"
"Small, yet great?"
"Could the first step in cultivation be to look outward and observe Heaven and Earth, then turn inward and behold one's own nature?"
The old man breathed out softly.
He wanted to drink his tea.
Yet he could not lift the cup to his lips.
Only he could see it: a faint ripple stirred in the tea.
After a long while, he slowly nodded.
He drank his tea calmly and said only, "Good."
Much later, he let out a long sigh and finally spoke. He seemed delighted, and full of expectation, as if he had found a fine jade stone buried under dust and, after brushing it clean, seen its brilliance at last. Smiling in admiration, he said, "After hearing my General Principle, you understood how to draw on earth Qi to set the sun and moon in motion, then make pills. And while making pills, you gained insight into cultivating both nature and life. How many cultivators sit in meditation for decades without understanding this?"
"They may know these words, but they only learned them from their teachers. They never arrived at the understanding themselves."
"Your insight in this regard is truly impressive. I wasn't just saying that—you even managed to surprise this old man a little."
"But insight and potential are not things you can take pride in yet. You must guard against pride and impatience."
"The Great Dao is traveled at an unhurried pace. There is no contest to be first or last."
"Do you understand, WuHuo?"
Qi WuHuo cupped his hands. "Yes."
The old man looked at him, approval clear in his eyes. He pondered for a moment, but in the end could not contain his delight. Stroking his beard, he promised:
"When the day comes that you truly achieve greatness..."
"This old man may personally make a batch of pills for you."
"And you may watch."
"WuHuo, keep striving!"
"Hmm? Yes!!!"
A radiant smile, full of youthful spirit, appeared on Qi WuHuo's face.
He simply thought the old man was teaching him, and knew that the old man cared about him, so he was happy.
But he did not know just how much those calm words—"You may watch when I make pills"—weighed.
Time passed, but most things remained as they had always been.
On the night before they were to set off, Qi WuHuo prepared many delicious dishes. Early the next morning, he drew water from the well, washed his face, then changed into cleaner clothes. He locked the doors and packed his things. Most important were the sheets of white paper covered in the last wishes of the murdered souls, Elder Tao's Jade Book, and the waist token of the Ming Zhen Dao Alliance—the only clue to what he had experienced in the past.
Then there were a zither and a sword.
He had nothing else.
He turned and stepped outside, then shut the two wooden doors behind him. He looked back at his home and saw the old man standing behind him, stroking his beard, with the plum tree in full, brilliant bloom.
"WuHuo, are you ready? If there's anything you haven't finished preparing, you can stay a little longer."
"No need."
"Haha, then let's go."
"Come with me to visit a friend."
The old man stroked his beard and led Qi WuHuo outside. The lively bustle hit them at once. The New Year was drawing near, and the town had grown lively too. A butcher had slaughtered a pig and was calling out cheerfully. At the wine shop, a thin young attendant with astonishing strength hauled out a great wine jar, broke its clay seal, and ladled wine with a dipper made from a dried, split gourd.
The clear liquor streamed down, its fragrance so rich that passersby could hardly tear themselves away.
The peddlers who appeared only at New Year had come too, bringing straw figures bristling with sugar figurines and candied hawthorns. Their little carts jingled and clattered as they rolled along. Qi WuHuo remembered how much he had loved those treats as a child.
Back when his parents were alive, and his hometown still stood.
Children's laughter rang out. The little ones, no taller than the boy's waist, ran and played as they rushed toward the peddlers, brushing past him in the opposite direction. Their smiles shone brightly, while the hem of the boy's robe stirred faintly. He stood straight and tall.
The peddler bent down with a smile and brought out malt candy. The rattle drum tucked into his belt bobbed with each movement.
The children had gathered a few bits of scrap iron, enough to trade with the peddler for a little piece of malt candy.
People came and went, talking about what delicious things they would eat for the New Year and which distinguished guests were coming to town. Yet it was as if no one saw the old man and the boy. The warmth of everyday life drifted past their sleeves. The old man stroked his beard, looked at the boy beside him, and asked with a smile, "The New Year is almost here. It's so lively. Are you all right with leaving with me?"
Qi WuHuo answered, "Mm."
"I've been through this before."
"So it's all right."
The old man looked at him and sighed with a smile. "The Yellow Millet Dream let you see through fame, but it also made some parts of you more steadfast."
"Discard the false and keep the true."
"That is the cultivation of the Dao."
"Then let's go."
"Mm."
The boy took one last look at the bustling town behind him, then turned away. Led by the old man, he parted from the people steeped in the mortal world, walking away with his back to them. At last, even the cooking smoke clinging to their sleeves faded like windblown mist. His blue robe was clean, and a sword case rested on his back, carrying a sword and a zither. His eyes were clear and gentle. He was only fourteen.
Together with the old man, he reached the main road.
They slowly walked out of the town.
"Old man, is the person we're going to see nearby? Can we walk there?"
"Haha, near and far, far and near."
"WuHuo..."
"Just follow me."
The old man stroked his beard and looked at the boy beside him. With a smile, he spoke words that held two meanings:
"You are fine material, and this old man will point you toward the Way."
Before you continue