Taking a Master

Qing Shi pushed open the small courtyard gate in the dim light, and seeing Shen Hui already standing in the yard, he couldn't help but pause in surprise.

"Junior Brother Shen? You... didn't sleep all night?" Qing Shi rubbed his eyes, looking him up and down.

Shen Hui smiled and shook his head. "I slept. Just woke up."

Seeing that Shen Hui's expression was clear and not forced, Qing Shi didn't press further, only saying, "Good, then. Come with me. Don't keep Master waiting."

The two crossed the mist-shrouded courtyard, where a thin frost had formed on the flagstone path, crunching softly underfoot.

The courtyard before the Three Pure Ones Hall seemed even more spacious than the night before. Qing Shi led Shen Hui toward a side hall attached to the main building. Above the door hung an old wooden plaque, its inscription worn and faded, but the characters "Chengxin" could still be faintly made out.

Pushing the door open, the interior was warmer than outside, though not from a heated stove—rather, it was the faint vitality brought by a gathering of people.

In the center of the room stood a brass brazier, its coals nearly spent, leaving only a dim red glow. A simple long table was set before them, and the old Daoist priest sat behind it, eyes closed in quiet meditation.

On the floor before the table, six meditation cushions were neatly arranged. Four were already occupied—two men and two women, all in gray Daoist robes, their backs to the door.

Hearing the door open, the four turned their heads in unison.

On the left was a tall, sturdy middle-aged man with a square face and a broad mouth, his eyes sharp and bright. Beside him sat a thinner man with a fair complexion and lively eyes.

On the right were two women. One, about twenty years old, had a calm demeanor. The other, younger, had a round face and dark, darting eyes full of curiosity.

Four pairs of eyes landed squarely on Shen Hui, sizing him up without the slightest pretense.

"Cough." The old Daoist cleared his throat without opening his eyes.

The four immediately turned back, sitting up straight, though the round-faced girl couldn't resist sneaking another glance.

Qing Shi quickly pulled Shen Hui to sit on the two empty cushions at the far end. The cushions were thick and padded, sinking slightly under Shen Hui's weight.

"Today's morning lesson: recite the Scripture of Purity and Stillness three times."

The old Daoist opened his eyes, his voice calm. "The newcomer, listen along."

With that, he paid no further attention to the others, picked up a slightly worn scripture scroll from the table, and began to chant in a low, steady voice: "The Dao has clarity and turbidity, movement and stillness. Heaven is clear, earth is turbid; heaven moves, earth is still. The descent of the origin gives rise to the myriad things. Clarity is the source of turbidity; movement is the foundation of stillness. If one can constantly be clear and still, heaven and earth will both return..."

His voice was not loud, but clear and steady, echoing softly in the quiet room.

Qing Shi and the other four, clearly familiar with the routine, immediately joined in, chanting in unison. Their voices varied but carried a natural rhythm, merging into a low harmony.

Shen Hui sat at the end, flipping through the scripture before him, a look of confusion on his face.

Uh... wasn't this supposed to be about cultivating the Dao and refining Qi? Why start with chanting scriptures?

He couldn't even fully recognize the common script of this world, let alone the convoluted text of the sutra.

But seeing the others so focused, he didn't dare ask questions. He just lowered his eyes, straining to catch the syllables, silently memorizing the cadence, occasionally grasping a word or phrase he half-understood.

Time passed slowly in the low, repetitive chanting. The last red glow in the brazier faded completely, leaving only gray ash.

The light beyond the paper window gradually brightened, shifting from gray-blue to pale white.

After three recitations, the old Daoist set down the scroll.

"Morning lesson is over. Go and have your meal."

The five acknowledged in unison, rising and bowing. But the old Daoist raised a hand to stop them. "Shen Hui, stay for a moment."

The five, about to leave, paused and exchanged glances. Instead of leaving, they shuffled over to the wall, clearly in a "we'll just listen" stance.

The old Daoist glanced at them but didn't shoo them away.

Once the room was quiet again, the old Daoist's gaze settled on Shen Hui.

"You entered our temple without performing the formal apprenticeship ceremony. According to the rules, before that ceremony, you are merely a guest. I cannot teach you the arts; you may only join in chanting, reading, and doing chores." The old Daoist's tone was calm, his expression indifferent.

Hearing this, Shen Hui decisively lifted the hem of his Daoist robe, knelt squarely on both knees, and bowed low:

"Disciple Shen Hui wishes to enter under Master's tutelage. I humbly beg Master to accept me!"

His voice was firm and resolute, his movements crisp and clean.

Dignity? What's that? If you don't kneel in a situation like this, you're really something else (thumbs up.jpg).

The old Daoist's hand, stroking his beard, paused slightly. A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes before quickly fading.

"Heh," he chuckled, stroking his sparse beard. "You're quite clever... Very well. Since that's the case, there are a few things I must tell you first."

He paused briefly, then spoke slowly: "This temple is called 'Clear Wind Temple.' My lineage, though we live in the temple and cultivate the Dao, does not follow the path of severing all worldly ties and enduring bitter asceticism. As long as it aligns with propriety and human ethics, marrying and having children are all permissible. As for the prohibitions on alcohol and meat—there are none to speak of, though we are not overly strict either."

Shen Hui felt a wave of relief inside: So I can get married and have kids. That's fine, then. This Dao is worth cultivating!

The old Daoist's gaze swept over the disciples lingering by the wall, then returned to Shen Hui's face. "My Dao name is 'Ji Chen.' My secular name has long been unused, so there's no need to mention it. The origins of our sect can be traced back to Green City. As for the current lineage, I am the ninth generation."

At this point, Ji Chen the old Daoist stood up. "Come with me."

He led Shen Hui, along with the five "tails" trailing behind, out of Chengxin Studio. They walked along a corridor for a short distance until they reached a quiet side room.

Pushing the door open, the room had no windows, lit only by a single long-burning oil lamp. The light was dim and yellow, and the air carried a faint scent of sandalwood.

On the wall facing the door hung an old, vertical scroll painting.

In the painting was a middle-aged Daoist, his face gaunt and refined, with three long strands of beard, his expression serene.

He sat sideways on the back of a sturdy sika deer, which strode forward with its head held high, its antlers majestic and its posture so lively it seemed ready to leap out of the paper.

Most striking of all, across the Daoist's knees lay a long, narrow wooden box.

The wooden box was elegantly antique in form, its entire body lacquered in dark raw lacquer, with intricate cloud-and-thunder patterns meticulously traced in gold thread—even under the dim lamplight, it faintly shimmered with a luxurious luster.

"This is the founding patriarch of our sect, 'Cloud Deer True Man.'"

Elder Ji Chen faced the portrait, his expression solemn as he bowed. "The patriarch hailed from Green City and was a true cultivator of the Way, especially skilled in artifact refinement and object control. In his day, his flying sword technique was also..."

He paused, his gaze falling on the ornately decorated sword case, a hint of complexity creeping into his tone:

"...unrivaled under heaven."

After a moment, Elder Ji Chen turned back to look at Shen Hui, who stood respectfully at attention.

"Since you have entered my sect, you must take a Daoist name. I see that your mind is clear and sharp, your fate mysterious and profound, and your brow carries a hint of detachment from the mundane."

He stroked his beard in thought for a moment. "You shall be called 'Qingxuan.' It takes 'clarity and stillness' as the foundation, and 'mystery and subtlety' as the function."

"Thank you, Master, for granting me this name." Shen Hui bowed his head, tasting the two words in his mind, but found no particular flavor in them.

Ji Chen nodded slightly, his gaze falling on Shen Hui's short hair, which stood out from the rest. He asked casually, "That short hair of yours is quite rare. Could it be... you once spent time among the Buddhist clergy?"

At these words, the disciples by the wall immediately pricked up their ears.

Shen Hui raised his head, a carefree smile spreading across his face as he nodded in reply. "Master has keen eyes. Your disciple has no parents and drifted since childhood..."

His tone was natural, as if recounting an ordinary matter. "Two years ago, for the sake of a meal, I found a small temple, begged for a chance to shave my head and take temporary tonsure, played the part of a fake monk for a while, and scrounged a few vegetarian meals. Later, the temple fell on hard times too, so I left."

This was pure fabrication on his part—before his transmigration, he had never been a monk—but this story could both explain his short hair and fit the persona of a "wandering vagabond," perhaps even earning a bit of sympathy.

Fortunately, in this era, pretending to take monastic vows for a meal, though not exactly honorable, was hardly a grave sin.

Sure enough, as soon as he finished, the round-faced girl by the wall let out a "pfft" laugh, then quickly covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking.

The tall, burly man also grinned, the fair-skinned youth simply shook his head, and only the demure woman frowned slightly, as if she found it a bit improper.

Ji Chen's gaze swept over them lightly, and they immediately held their breath and composed themselves.

"War rages on all sides, the world is in chaos, demons and monsters run rampant, and the common people suffer greatly."

Elder Ji Chen sighed softly, his words carrying no reproach, but rather a hint of understanding. "To survive, a bit of adaptability is a helpless necessity. Your honesty is good."

He then shifted his tone, his expression growing serious. "However, now that you have formally entered the gates of our Clear Wind Temple, there are some rules you must keep firmly in mind."

Shen Hui straightened his back and listened intently.

"The sect rules are few, only three precepts, which you must strictly observe."

Ji Chen's voice was deep and slow, each word clear. "First, do not kill the innocent wantonly. A cultivator must hold fast to their original heart, and must never bully the weak or harm living beings without cause."

Shen Hui's face was solemn, and he kowtowed at these words.

The old Daoist nodded and continued, "Second, do not confuse right and wrong. When faced with matters, you must clearly distinguish truth from falsehood, neither currying favor with the powerful nor being biased or gullible, losing your sense of justice."

Shen Hui kowtowed again.

The old man's voice was aged as he went on, "Third, do not be greedy for wealth or lust. Money, goods, and women are what people desire, but they must be obtained by proper means, held in moderation, and used wisely. Do not indulge in them, lose your mind, or ruin your cultivation."

These three precepts did not sound harsh, even somewhat ordinary, but Shen Hui knew that the more basic the precepts, the harder they often were to uphold consistently over the long years.

Yet he did not hesitate, replying solemnly, "Your disciple, Shen Hui, will strictly obey the master's command and uphold these three precepts. If I violate them, may heaven and earth destroy me!"

With that, he kowtowed once more.

Seeing his proper attitude, Ji Chen's eyes showed a hint of satisfaction, and he nodded. "Rise."

Shen Hui stood up, hands at his sides.

Ji Chen's gaze turned to the tall, burly man with a square face and broad mouth by the wall, and called out, "Changxing..."

The man immediately stepped forward, bowing with clasped hands. "Your disciple is here!"

"You entered the sect earliest, and your foundation is fairly solid. From today on, you will teach Qingxuan the method of drawing in qi."

"Yes, Master." Li Changxing acknowledged, then turned to Shen Hui and clasped his hands. "Junior Brother Qingxuan."

"I am in your care, Senior Brother." Shen Hui quickly returned the bow.

Ji Chen then looked at Shen Hui again and asked, "Do you know how to read?"

Shen Hui answered truthfully, "To report to Master, I recognize some characters, but... not fully. I know the shapes of many words, but not their meanings, let alone how to write them."

Shen Hui was being honest—during the morning lesson earlier, he had flipped through the scriptures and found that while the characters of this world were similar to those of his own, the differences were not small.

Ji Chen was not surprised, and his gaze shifted to the demure female disciple.

"Jingming."

The woman stepped forward slowly, folding her hands in a formal bow. "Master."

"You are meticulous and patient, and your handwriting is neat. The task of teaching Qingxuan to recognize characters and familiarize himself with the scriptures will be yours."

"Your disciple obeys."

Jingming acknowledged softly, lifting her eyes to Shen Hui. Her gaze was calm and gentle, her demeanor composed. "Junior Brother Qingxuan, if you ever have difficulties with writing in the future, feel free to come and ask me at any time."

"Thank you, Senior Sister." Shen Hui bowed again.

"Alright, each of you go about your business." Ji Chen waved his hand. "Qingxuan, today you will first get acquainted with your senior brother and second senior sister. Tomorrow at the hour of the rabbit, report to Chengxin Hall for morning lessons as usual."

"Yes, Master." The group replied in unison.

Ji Chen said no more, turned, and paced out of the side chamber.

As soon as the master left, the atmosphere immediately loosened.

The round-faced girl was the first to bounce over, grinning as she cupped her hands toward Shen Hui. "Junior Brother Qingxuan, I'm your fourth senior sister, Dao name Jinghui! Did you really pretend to be a monk?"

Shen Hui was about to nod when the fair-skinned young man also walked over, his smile warm. "I'm your third senior brother, Qingyi."

He then pointed to Li Changxing, Jingming, and finally Qing Shi at the back. "This is the eldest senior brother, second senior sister, and fifth junior brother. From now on, we're one family."

Li Changxing clapped Shen Hui on the shoulder, his force not light. "Junior brother, now that you've entered the sect, cultivate well. The master may seem easygoing, but he never slacks off on lessons."