The Great Dao Is Simple, an Ancient Oil Lamp

The sun blazed brilliantly, and the earth seemed to breathe fire.

Dao-Treasuring Peak, Path-Seeking Courtyard.

After refining the dawn purple qi, Xuan Tong and Xuan Yu bowed with clasped hands and left together.

The little deer whom Xuanming had named Longevity the night before trotted out of the courtyard, frisking on all four hooves. He headed straight for Chang Ning's residence to show his sister the beautiful markings on his body.

He was now the most handsome deer of all.

After breakfast, Xuanming continued poring over the Qi Refining insights at his desk. Utterly absorbed, he recorded his thoughts as they came, sometimes pausing to ponder, sometimes comparing arguments, and sometimes consulting Daoist scriptures.

In the afternoon, after streamlining part of the Yin and Yang Foundation Establishment Manual, he returned to contemplating the Qi Refining insights, his mind in Nonbeing, free of all distractions.

At night, he gathered moonlight, lay down on his side, and practiced his sleeping technique to nourish his Divine spirit.

Those on the mountain cultivated in peace, paying no heed to the Mortal World.

Those below attended the assembly or pursued vengeance, each busy with their own affairs.

Time slipped by, and two days passed in a flash.

Fengyang Commandery, Heaven-in-a-Gourd Palace.

Xuanxu sat upright in the viewing stands, smiling as he watched the competition below.

The hundred arts of Immortal cultivation demanded considerable time and effort.

Alchemy and Artifact Refining, for instance, could not be accomplished in a single leap. At least several days were needed to form pills or complete artifacts.

Everyone had chosen different arts, each requiring a different amount of time. To accommodate the contestants and balance everyone's needs, the Heaven and Earth Academy followed established precedent and allotted seven days.

Today happened to be the final day.

When the sun sank in the west, the assessment ended. The hundred arts of Immortal cultivation competition finally drew to a close, and the results were announced.

Though the Truth-Seeking Abbey's performance was less dazzling than last time, its results were still good. Two of its ten disciples had entered the top hundred: Changqingzi and Chang'anzi.

Xuan Yang specialized in Artifact Refining, and as his disciple, Changqingzi possessed considerable skill in the art, earning ninetieth place.

Chang'anzi, meanwhile, had ranked fifteenth in Talisman Drawing. Though it fell short of his runner-up finish, it was still a substantial achievement.

Upon hearing his ranking, Chang'anzi ignored the varied looks around him, his heart brimming with still greater gratitude toward his martial uncle Xuanming.

Before his martial uncle entered the Dao, he often read Daoist scriptures by candlelight late into the night, rising early and retiring late, forgetting food and sleep. Concerned for his health, Chang'anzi had racked his brains for a solution, but with little effect.

Only after catering to his interests, accompanying him in reading scriptures and practicing calligraphy, and winning his favor had things improved.

For five years, he had practiced calligraphy with wholehearted concentration.

Without realizing it, his mastery had steadily deepened.

Writing and talismans shared common principles; myriad changes never departed from their root. Drawing connections between the two, Chang'anzi had advanced swiftly in the talisman Dao.

Especially after deciding to attend the Dao Origin Assembly, he had squeezed out time between cultivation sessions to study the talisman Dao.

His martial uncle had also guided him patiently, explaining the truth linking calligraphy and the talisman Dao: "Calligraphy, talismans, and painting are like different branches growing from the same great tree. However many leaves they bear, however many flowers they bloom, however lush and colorful they become, they share a single root.

"The great Dao is simple. All those intricate principles lie within the most basic horizontal and vertical strokes, the strokes that sweep left and right."

He had engraved that teaching in his heart and never dared forget it.

After breaking down and rebuilding his foundation, he had more time to refine his Talisman Arts. Following that teaching, he practiced tirelessly, his brush never resting, and that was how he had distinguished himself.

Looking at the rankings displayed on the Water Mirror, Chang'anzi silently set his goal.

Runner-up in Dao debate.

Fifteenth in the hundred arts of Immortal cultivation.

As long as he could also reach the top ten in the martial examination...

Securing a place among the Dao Origin Assembly's top ten should not be difficult.

The Dao Origin Grand Gathering was considerate of its participants.

After the scholarly examination, participating disciples could rest for three days to recover their essence, qi, and Divine spirit and bring themselves back into condition.

They simply could not leave Fengyang Commandery. Members of the Heaven and Earth Academy and Divine beings would secretly monitor them, observing the participating Daoists' conduct and assessing their virtue.

Anyone who violated the rules would immediately be disqualified and forever barred from participating again. Even their sect would be implicated, held responsible for inadequate instruction, and forbidden from attending the next Dao Origin Grand Gathering.

Thus, though Chang'anzi wished to return to the Truth-Seeking Abbey and thank his martial uncle in person, he restrained himself.

Even the boldest moves must remain within bounds. Some rules still had to be observed, especially when the consequences were so grave. His sect's kindness toward him weighed as heavily as a mountain; he could not drag it into trouble.

On the night the scholarly examination ended, a bright full moon hung in the sky, and brilliant lights filled the city. The streets and alleys dazzled the eye: lantern trees shone with a thousand lights, flowerlike flames blossomed on seven branches, fiery dragons danced through the air, and silver lions bounded across the ground. Spell-enhanced lantern bridges even spanned the heavens, extending in every direction, reaching all corners and connecting the eight extremes to form an intricate character for "Dao."

Fiery trees and silver blossoms met, while starry bridges opened their iron locks.

This lantern festival was held by the Heaven and Earth Academy specifically to help the participants relax in body and mind. It also shared joy with the people and benefited the populace, demonstrating the Daoist Tradition's mission of aiding the world and saving its people.

During these three days, the Heaven and Earth Academy would also hold a Peaceful Offering Ritual. True Persons would establish altars and perform rites, expound scriptures and offer blessings, praying for favorable winds and timely rains, abundant harvests, and the people's well-being in the coming year. They would also deliver departed souls, expressing the Daoist Tradition's compassion for heaven and humanity.

This raised the Daoists' standing in the people's hearts, strengthened their faith, and gathered incense offerings. It was also why Daoism flourished in Fengyang Commandery, surpassing Buddhism.

Leaving the Immortal Grove Inn, Chang'anzi went for a stroll alone to clear his mind. His good friend Changqingzi had gone to the Welcome Immortal Inn with their martial uncle Xuan Yang.

After returning last time, their martial uncle Xuan Kong had been positively smug, praising the place without end. Xuan Yang had long been itching to go. After hesitating for several days, he decided to take his disciple there to indulge—if there was wine today, then today he would drink his fill.

His excuse, however, was to celebrate his disciple's excellent scholarly examination results and overall ranking in the top hundred. It certainly was not because he craved wine.

The other junior disciples paired off to explore the streets, while Xuanxu and the other elders each had their own destinations.

Walking through the lantern-lined streets, Chang'anzi looked around carefully, hoping to find something good to bring back as a gift for his martial uncle.

Thanks to the means his martial uncle Xuanming had left upon him, Chang'anzi possessed a keen perception of heaven and earth's Spirit Mechanism. Though he did not know whether it rivaled a True Person's, it should far surpass that of Essence Refining Realm cultivators.

He fell short of those above him but had more than enough to surpass those below.

Before the Dao Origin Grand Gathering began, he had already picked up a few overlooked bargains and asked Xuanxu to appraise them. They were decent finds and counted as small gains, but he felt they were hardly presentable as gifts for his martial uncle, unworthy of his stature and cultivation.

Though a light gift could carry deep affection, his martial uncle's kindness had been like granting him a second life. Chang'anzi always wanted to offer him the finest things in the world.

Yet after walking through three streets, he had found nothing to his liking. Expecting to return empty-handed tonight, Chang'anzi began thinking of heading back. On his way to the Immortal Grove Inn, a casual glance drew his attention to a stall.

The stall stood in a corner. Its arrangement was ordinary, its wares were ordinary, and its owner was an ordinary-looking middle-aged man. Every lantern-lined street had eight hundred such stalls, if not a thousand.

Most passersby walked straight past without a glance. A few paused briefly, lost interest after one look, and turned toward other stalls or entertainments.

Chang'anzi approached the stall. As the owner greeted him enthusiastically, he made a show of browsing, turning things over and picking through them, asking a few questions about each item. His expression remained normal, betraying not the slightest ripple of emotion.

After examining three items, he reached for the one he wanted.

It was a damaged lamp, roughly a foot tall, with an ordinary style, simple shape, and worn surface. It looked no different from the oil lamps commonly used in ordinary households.

Yet to Chang'anzi's spiritual perception, though the lamp's Spirit Mechanism was faint, it radiated an obscure mystery, like a candle burning quietly in a dark room or a firefly soaring silently through the night.

"Daoist, you have an excellent eye! Of all my treasures here, this one is the most precious. My ancestor spent seven days breaking through layer after layer of formations, surviving nine deaths for a single chance at life, before digging this treasure out of an ancient Golden Core Realm cultivator's tomb."

"Don't be deceived by its plain appearance. This lamp is quite powerful. Though damaged, it's made of a special material and is worth a great deal. Once lit, it can still shine day and night, clear the mind and focus the Divine, with the power to set a prairie ablaze."

"If you know a highly skilled Artifact Refining master, ask them to repair it. Its power will surely be considerable, and it won't disappoint you."

Though Chang'anzi seldom left the mountain, he was quick-witted. Xuanxu and the other elders had repeatedly warned and advised him, and his first few days buying treasures in Fengyang Commandery's capital had given him some experience. He knew that nine out of every ten words these stallholders uttered were lies.

Thus, however the stallholder's extravagant praise sent heavenly flowers tumbling through the air, he remained unmoved. Only when the man's mouth had grown dry did Chang'anzi speak:

"This lamp's Spirit Mechanism is thin. Its material may be special, but it isn't rare. My sect has plenty of objects made from the same material. As for its powers, I suspect only its ability to stay lit day and night is genuine. Otherwise, if it were truly as formidable as you claim, how could it have ended up here?"

"If an elder of mine didn't enjoy reading scriptures, I wouldn't even consider this pretty but useless thing. Layman, give me your honest price. If it's reasonable, I'll buy it. If you take me for a gullible fool, then forget it."

The stallholder showed no annoyance at having his intentions exposed. He smiled ingratiatingly. "Since you sincerely wish to buy it, Daoist, how about ten Magic Coins?"

Magic Coins were refined from gold and silver and imbued with a special Spirit Mechanism. They served as currency among cultivators.

One tael of gold yielded only a single Magic Coin.

This stallholder was opening his lion's maw wide.

Chang'anzi set down the lamp, turned, and walked away.

The stallholder panicked and hurriedly called, "Everything's negotiable! How about eight Magic Coins?"

Seeing Chang'anzi continue forward, he hastily added, "Six Magic Coins! I can't go any lower."

Chang'anzi still did not turn around. Gritting his teeth, the stallholder said, "Then tell me what you think is fair!"

Chang'anzi stopped and turned. "Two Magic Coins. Either we trade, or I leave."

"Three!" the stallholder said. "Money has been tight lately, and I urgently need funds to find a physician and medicine for my Dao companion and buy Spirit Pills. That's why I've had no choice but to sell our household possessions."

"If you're sincere about buying it, Daoist, three Magic Coins. I can't go any lower."

Chang'anzi agreed.

A moment later, money changed hands, and so did the goods.

Tucking the lamp into his sleeve, Chang'anzi prepared to leave, only for the stallholder to stop him. "Please wait, Daoist."

Seeing Chang'anzi's puzzled expression, the stallholder explained:

"To tell you the truth, there are three of these lamps. I happened upon them by chance, and they look like a set. I haven't finished cleaning the dust and grime off the other two yet. If you're interested, why not come to my home and take a look? If you like them, we can negotiate the price."

Chang'anzi did not answer immediately.

Only after considering for a moment did he speak:

"I've used up all the Magic Coins I have on me. Sorry for the trouble, but please wait here. I'll fetch more money and come find you at once."

The stallholder agreed.

Chang'anzi headed straight for the Immortal Grove Inn.

An incense stick's worth of time passed, but he did not return.

Two incense sticks' worth of time passed, and he still did not return.

Three incense sticks, two hours...

Even when the lantern market closed, he had not appeared.

The stallholder's fury blazed three feet high. Realizing at once that he had been played, he packed up the stall and walked to a secluded, deserted spot. His appearance changed completely, transforming into a voluptuous, beautiful woman. Murderous intent seethed as she said, "What a crafty little Daoist."

He had refused to follow the script!

Not only had she wasted her efforts, she had also lost a treasure.

Though damaged, that treasure had once been a Spirit Artifact.

Why would she have brought it out if not to lure him onto the hook?

Carrying out a mission in the commandery capital was such a nuisance. She could not fight and kill openly.