Who knew how much time had passed? The number after [Dao Xing] slowly ticked up to "Five," then seemed to hit some kind of limit. It stopped there and no longer increased.
Shen Hui understood. Perhaps this was the limit of what he could accumulate at his current stage—or, rather, the capacity of this "cheat" to "store energy" in a single use.
He stopped waiting and slowly withdrew from his meditative state.
Just as his eyelids were about to open, he suddenly felt as if something were blocking the light in front of him. A warm breath nearly brushed his face.
Shen Hui instinctively opened his eyes. A slightly chubby, baby-faced girl was practically nose to nose with him.
Her bright, inquiring eyes were so close that he could make out her long eyelashes.
"Whoa—!"
Shen Hui nearly jumped out of his skin. He instinctively jerked backward, slamming his back against the wall behind him.
He focused his eyes and saw that it was Fourth Senior Sister Jinghui.
She was leaning forward, staring at him without blinking.
Behind her, Senior Brother Li Changxing, Second Senior Sister Jingming, Third Senior Brother Qingyi, and Fifth Senior Brother Qing Shi were all gathered in the room, some standing and some sitting. Every one of them had their eyes fixed on him, their faces full of astonishment.
Shen Hui was momentarily dumbstruck. He felt as if he'd been watched by a crowd while taking a shit, and his face turned awkward.
"Oh! He's awake, he's awake!"
Jinghui was the first to cry out. She straightened up abruptly and clapped her hands, even more excited than before. "Junior Brother Qingxuan, you can really sit still! From noon until now—you didn't move a muscle for five whole shichen!"
"Five shichen?" Shen Hui was startled too.
He turned to look out the window and only then noticed that the daylight filtering through the paper panes had turned dusky gold, tinged with the fading light of evening.
He'd actually been meditating for that long?
Before he could think it over, everyone began talking over one another.
"That's not all. He can really sit still!"
Third Senior Brother Qingyi shook his head, astonishment in his voice. "When ordinary disciples enter meditation for the first time, lasting the time it takes to drink a cup of tea is already impressive. A whole stick of incense is a sign of extraordinary talent. But, Junior Brother... five shichen without so much as a twitch, with your breathing almost imperceptible—this isn't just extraordinary talent. It's practically..."
"Practically a once-in-a-century genius!" Fifth Senior Brother Qing Shi hurriedly finished for him, admiration filling his eyes.
"Not at all, not at all..." Shen Hui waved his hands quickly. It was just meditation, wasn't it? As easy as pressing F to get in a car. By any reckoning, he was a once-in-a-millennium genius.
"Junior Brother, there's no need to be modest." Second Senior Sister Jingming looked at Shen Hui with a new depth of interest. "To enter meditation for the first time and reach such depth for so long, while the qi around you seemed naturally whole, without the stiffness or hollowness of a beginner... Such a temperament and aptitude truly make your fate profound and mysterious."
"Exactly, exactly! Your fate is profound and mysterious!"
Jinghui nodded like a pecking chicken. Her big eyes roamed over Shen Hui's face as if she were trying to find where, exactly, the "mystery" was.
Praise came raining down on him, and Shen Hui could barely fend it off. His face grew hot as he hurriedly waved his hands. "Senior Brothers, Senior Sisters, you flatter me! I only..."
But he immediately realized that any explanation would be futile, so he quickly changed the subject. Turning to Jingming, he asked the question that had been on his mind. "Second Senior Sister, you just said my fate was 'profound and mysterious'... What did you mean by that?"
He had a vague feeling it might have something to do with being a transmigrator—or with that strange "interface."
Jingming glanced at him and pondered for a moment. "I learned a little face-reading and qi-watching from Master. Judging by the twelve palaces of your face and the flow of your complexion, you should have been... someone with little fortune and shallow connections. There's a faint tangle of dark qi between your brows, which points to a lonely and hard early life, a rough and unlucky path, and even..."
She paused, seeming to consider her words. "And a short-lived, violent death."
Shen Hui's heart gave a violent thump.
A short-lived, violent death—in plain terms, a premature death. Before he transmigrated, hadn't he died a "violent death"?
But Jingming changed tack, confusion showing in her eyes. "The strange thing, however, is that beneath such an inauspicious countenance, a faint thread of purple qi lies hidden, like a withered tree returning to spring, or someone finding life in the depths of despair. What's more, your spirit and qi are now full, and your gaze clear. The signs of ill fortune have faded considerably, leaving instead a few hints of... unfathomable change. Such contradictory signs, turning from misfortune to good fortune—aren't they 'strange'? Aren't they 'mysterious'?"
Shen Hui fell silent.
What could he say? That Second Senior Sister was absolutely right—that he really had died once, only to crawl back from another world?
No wonder Master had taken him in. No wonder he'd given him the Daoist name Qingxuan.
His fate really was "profound and mysterious" enough to leave him speechless.
"All right, all right. Face-reading is mysterious beyond measure. We mustn't believe it completely, nor become attached to it."
Seeing the atmosphere grow somber, Senior Brother Li Changxing cut in. "For Junior Brother Qingxuan to make such progress on his first day of cultivation is a blessing for Clear Wind Temple. It's already late. We should have dinner first."
The group left Li Changxing's room and walked through the fading twilight toward the Dining Hall.
The evening breeze in the mountains carried a chill, but it did nothing to cool the excitement and curiosity on everyone's faces.
On the way, Jinghui, Qingyi, and Qing Ding seemed to remember something. They each pulled a few things from their robes and, without waiting for an answer, stuffed them into Shen Hui's arms.
Shen Hui looked down. They were all sorts of oddly shaped fruits.
Some were green tinged with red, their skins smooth; some were deep purple, covered in tiny white speckles; others were small and golden, giving off a sweet, fresh fragrance.
They were all varieties he'd never seen before, still carrying the mountain's coolness and the fresh scent of plants and trees.
"What are these?" Shen Hui asked, puzzled.
"Wild fruit from the back mountain. The vines and branches have been growing for years, so they've absorbed a little spiritual energy. You could just about call them 'spirit fruits.'"
Third Senior Brother Qingyi smiled as he explained. "They're nothing compared to real spirit herbs, but eating them regularly can nourish your qi and blood and help you gather qi and absorb spiritual energy. We thought you'd just joined us, so you could use something nourishing."
Spirit fruits? They could help gather qi and absorb spiritual energy?
Shen Hui's eyes lit up. He didn't bother being polite. He picked up a red-and-green fruit, wiped it on his Daoist robe, then took a crisp bite.
The flesh was crunchy and juicy. A sweet taste with a hint of tartness spread through his mouth.
Even more wonderfully, as the fruit went down, a faint coolness slowly rose from his lower abdomen, answering the spiritual energy gathered inside him and bringing a comfort he could hardly describe.
"Mmm!"
Shen Hui couldn't help taking another big bite. Chewing, he mumbled his praise. "Delicious, delicious! Thank you, Senior Brothers and Senior Sisters!"
Everyone was taken aback by the way he dug in, then burst into laughter. Even the usually aloof Second Senior Sister Jingming smiled a little.
The twilight deepened, and the mountain temple grew quiet.
After their simple evening meal, just as the bowls and chopsticks were being cleared away, Second Senior Sister Jingming spoke gently. "Junior Brother Qingxuan, it's late, but we shouldn't put off learning to read for too long. Come with me. I'll teach you some basic characters and phrases first, so you'll be able to read the scriptures on your own later."
Shen Hui glanced outside at the sky, which was almost completely dark, and felt a flicker of surprise.
Late at night, alone with a woman... and she wanted to give him extra lessons?
Was that really going to be an innocent study session?
But Jingming's expression was open and frank, her gaze clear as autumn water. He immediately laughed at himself for having impure thoughts and hurriedly replied, "Sorry for the trouble, Senior Sister."
The two left the Dining Hall one after the other and crossed the quiet courtyard beneath the hazy moonlight.
Jingming lived in the West Courtyard, in a more secluded corner. Several clumps of bamboo grew in front of her door, their leaves rustling in the night breeze.
She pushed the door open and swept a sleeve through the air. An oil lamp suddenly flared to life, casting a gentle glow.
Her room was a little smaller than Senior Brother's, but exceptionally neat—almost spotless.
A wooden bed, a writing desk, a bookshelf, and a simple wardrobe made up all the furnishings.
Brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone were arranged in perfect order on the desk. Beside them lay several thread-bound books and a half-finished scroll of scripture.
A faint herbal fragrance hung in the air, mingling with the scent of ink. It was calming just to breathe it in.
"Sit."
Jingming pointed to a meditation cushion on the other side of the desk, then sat down behind it.
"Cultivators who can't read or write will struggle to understand the scriptures and are more likely to give rise to inner demons."
She took a neatly trimmed stack of plain paper and a writing brush from beneath the desk, then brought out a thin copybook.
"I'll start by teaching you how to hold the brush and recognize the characters. You'll have to learn our dynasty's common script from the beginning."
As she spoke, she demonstrated how to hold the brush. Her fingers were slender and steady, her wrist strong. With each careful stroke, she wrote four standard-script characters on the paper: "Heaven, Earth, Dark, Yellow." The characters were upright and elegant, their strokes firm enough to pierce the paper.
Shen Hui watched closely.
Sure enough, some of the characters looked quite similar to those he remembered, though their strokes and structure were slightly different, such as "heaven," "earth," and "dark." Others looked very different, with some having completely unfamiliar structures. The character for "yellow," for instance, was particularly archaic.
He composed himself and studied them carefully.
Jingming taught with great patience. After every few characters, she had Shen Hui dip his finger in water and trace them on the tabletop, correcting his stroke order and structure.
"Senior Sister, why does this horizontal stroke in the middle of 'yu' have to be so long?" Shen Hui asked, pointing to a character in the copybook.
Jingming glanced at it and answered, "This character takes the shape of a house, and its long horizontal stroke represents the main beam. Characters often take their forms from the things of the world, embodying their principles. Only when you understand why a character is written as it is can you capture both its form and its spirit."
Shen Hui understood. Learning the script of this world was quite interesting, like deciphering a different kind of code.
Night deepened. The oil lamp occasionally spat out a spark with a soft crackle.
Outside, bamboo shadows swayed across the paper window, spreading like ink in water.
Suddenly, an extremely faint rustling came from outside the window.
Jingming's brush paused.
Shen Hui looked toward the sound as well. He saw a small shadow dart past the paper window.
"It's a wildcat from the back mountain. Sometimes it comes looking for food."
Jingming didn't even look up as she explained. "Pay it no mind. Let's continue."
After studying for a while longer, Shen Hui felt his wrist growing sore, and sweat beaded on the tip of his nose.
As he loosened his wrist, he failed to notice a drop of ink trembling on the brush's tip. It fell right onto the character he had just written.
With a soft plop, a small blot spread beside the character.
Jingming calmly handed him a clean sheet of rough paper. "Writing requires a calm mind, a steady hand, and even breathing. The moment stray thoughts arise, your brushwork goes awry."
Shen Hui hurriedly took the paper and wiped away the ink. His admiration for his cool and composed Second Senior Sister grew.
Just look at her words and bearing. No wonder Master had asked her to teach him to read and write.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
Without realizing it, the oil in the lamp had burned down, and the insects chirping outside had gradually fallen quiet.
Jingming shifted slightly, then set down her paper and brush. "It's the end of the Hai hour. We'll stop here for today."
Only then did Shen Hui notice the simple copper water clock in the corner. He was startled to realize it was almost eleven at night.
He rolled his stiff neck and wrist. His head felt a little swollen, but he'd learned a great deal. At the very least, he'd memorized the forms, sounds, and meanings of dozens of basic characters.
"Thank you for your hard work, Senior Sister." Shen Hui rose and bowed.
Jingming shook her head slightly. "You learn quickly, and you have a good memory. Many characters only need to be taught once for you to remember how to write them, and when you explain their meanings, you often have insights of your own."
She looked at Shen Hui, a hint of appreciation in her eyes. "You can come by regularly after breakfast from now on. The daylight will be good then, and we'll have plenty of time."
"Yes. Thank you, Senior Sister." Shen Hui agreed and turned to leave.