Volume Two: A Sword Sharpened for Ten Years - How Could a Heavenly Scripture Be Read by Mortals?

Opening a book, the spirit roams a thousand years into the past; sipping wine, the heart wanders among ten thousand mountains.

- Anonymous

The more Xing Yan recalled the solemn expression on the old Daoist's face when he handed over the book, the more excited he became. He promptly sat up and took out the Upper Clarity Scripture, ready to study it carefully. With excitement bordering on a pilgrim's reverence, he opened the first page and began reading from the beginning. The opening passages, copied in neat regular script, described methods for clearing the mind and calming the spirit, interspersed with explanations of Daoist thought. Presumably, these were the doctrines revered by the Shangqing Palace. Between the lines, he could see that the Shangqing Palace on Mount Luofu held the founding sages of Daoism, Laozi and Zhuangzi among them, in the highest esteem.

After reading for a while, he felt he had indeed benefited from opening the book. Closing it, Xing Yan could not help praising it:

"Mm, the greatest religious order under heaven certainly lives up to its name! Even this introductory scripture is tremendously useful! If I ever have trouble sleeping, these calming methods will be just the thing!"

Whether because years of reading had trained him well or because he was already more eager to reach the final two chapters, Xing Yan skimmed through the opening material very quickly. Soon, he reached the last few pages, which the old Daoist's tone had suggested were exceedingly precious.

"Huh! Why has the handwriting suddenly become so ugly? The old Daoist's penmanship can't be this bad!" Xing Yan frowned at the crooked, scrawled characters. Setting aside his complaints about the calligraphy, he began carefully studying the Spirit Refining Chapter. At the top of the hemp-paper page, two sentences stood boldly written in wild, unrestrained strokes:

"What is spirit refining? Spirit refining is refining the spirit.

How does one refine the spirit? Do not refine the spirit, and that is spirit refining."

Those two sentences alone made Xing Yan's head ache!

Seriously?! What sort of mystification is that old Daoist playing at? Two lines of nonsense right at the start. I thought this was some peerless treasure of a scripture, but it turns out to be a muddleheaded incantation. Oh, now I remember-this baffling, blustering tone really does sound like old Qinghe, who loves playing at spirits and deliberately making mysteries out of nothing!

At that thought, Xing Yan hurriedly flipped ahead. When he reached the beginning of the Void Transformation Chapter, sure enough, it opened with another pair of sentences:

"What is void transformation? Void transformation is transforming the void.

How does one transform the void? Do not transform the void, and that is void transformation."

The higher his hopes, the deeper his disappointment. By now, Xing Yan was thoroughly exasperated. He flipped straight to the last page, hoping to see whether it bore the inscription, "Written drunkenly by Immortal Qinghe after drinking"!

This time, however, he had guessed wrong. The space for an inscription on the final page was completely blank. His eyes happened to stray across the last sentence of the scripture's Void Transformation Chapter:

"...Refine the spirit of primordial chaos within heaven and earth; transform the discordant energies of the universe. At the ultimate end of the Heavenly Way, act on Heaven's behalf. Vast though the powers of the gods may be, even they cannot withstand it."

"Well! The old Daoist certainly talks big!"

Already convinced that old Qinghe had written it, Xing Yan could not help finding it amusing.

Then again, could that old fellow really possess such grandeur of spirit? And when he recalled the old Daoist's manner as he handed over the book, it truly had not seemed as though he was teasing him-though this unscrupulous old Daoist had amused himself at Xing Yan's expense more than once or twice.

"Let's not rush to blame the old Daoist. I'd better go back and look carefully."

He had nothing else to do anyway, so Xing Yan rekindled a small spark of hope and went back to see what the text actually said.

This time, he really did begin to discern something. For instance, compared with the mind-clearing, spirit-calming incantations earlier in the Upper Clarity Scripture, these two chapters differed not only in their calligraphy-one hideous, the other beautiful-but also considerably in their style. The earlier Heart-Clearing Incantation was written in calm strokes and steady, measured prose. Although it contained many explanations of Daoist doctrine, it chiefly described specific formulas for quieting the mind and calming the spirit. Its explanations, for example, often centered on the body's meridians and acupoints. Names for bodily locations commonly cited by physicians appeared frequently in the scripture as well: the elixir field, sea of qi, heavenly pillar, jade pillow, mud pellet, spirit court, magpie bridge, layered tower, crimson palace, and many others. One passage in the Heart-Clearing Incantation read:

"...Once blood flows freely through every vessel and every limb is strong, further harmonize the breath, lowering it into the sea of qi and raising it into the mud pellet. Then qi will be harmonious and the spirit still, and water and fire will achieve their work of mutual completion. Only then is the Way of cultivating perfection and nourishing life complete."

The later Spirit Refining Chapter and Void Transformation Chapter differed greatly from the preceding Heart-Clearing Incantation. Not only was their prose wild and unfettered, but they offered no concrete methods, seemingly doing no more than expounding Daoist principles. Fortunately, Xing Yan had encountered some Daoist classics before and understood a few fundamental tenets, so reading them was not especially difficult. Yet as he compared the classics he remembered with these two chapters, point by point, he increasingly felt that many of the views in these pages were startling enough to shock the world.

For Xing Yan, an open-minded sixteen-year-old, however, that posed little difficulty. Far from rejecting or resisting them, he found them refreshingly new. A pedantic scholar steeped in Daoist learning, on the other hand, would inevitably have denounced them as absurd fantasies, perhaps even considering them heresies that betrayed the orthodox scriptures.

Only after reading both chapters carefully did Xing Yan realize that they were not the sheer nonsense he had first imagined. Later in the Spirit Refining Chapter, for instance, the following passage explained its opening two sentences:

"The method of spirit refining is not to refine the spirit. Not doing so is nonaction. Thus, the way of spirit refining consists solely of nonaction. Yet this nonaction is not that other nonaction: to have no intent and take no action is foolishness; to have no intent and take action is naturalness; to have intent and take action is worldliness; to have intent and take no action is to be a Celestial Person. Refining the spirit through nonaction is the way of the Celestial Person. Yet even upon entering the Celestial Person Realm, unless one has an affinity with the Heavenly Way and is granted resonance between Heaven and the Celestial Person, spirit refining remains like flowers in a mirror and the moon upon water, no more than empty talk.

"This is the hardest part of all. My years may be called ancient, yet I have never seen one who achieved complete success. It is just as an autumn insect whose life lasts but a single summer may chance to learn of the world's ice and snow, yet suffer from never being able to see them. Such is the sorrow of the mayfly."

After pondering this passage, Xing Yan learned that the spirit refined in the Spirit Refining Chapter was precisely the energy of primordial chaos, the mother of heaven and earth. The supreme sage Laozi had once described it: "There is something formed from chaos, born before heaven and earth. Silent and empty, it stands alone and does not change; it moves everywhere without exhaustion. It may be regarded as the mother of heaven and earth."

Yet Xing Yan, who had read the Tao Te Ching thoroughly, found one thing rather strange: throughout the entire text, Laozi was not mentioned once. That was truly peculiar. Since the founding sage of Daoism had spoken of primordial chaos, there was no reason for a Daoist scripture discussing it to omit him altogether.

Still, puzzled though he remained, the boy who had spent so long reading finally found something useful to him:

"...(The primordial energy of chaos) I do not know its name. Forced to name it, I call it Dao Power; forced to style it, I call it Great Splendor. 'Great' conveys its vastness; 'Splendor' conveys its exaltation."

Reading this, Xing Yan brightened inwardly. He had been fretting over what to call that strange, flowing-water-like force inside his body. Now he had it: "Great Splendor Dao Power"! Whatever else happened, he had to get some use out of this book.

The delighted boy was about to continue studying the Void Transformation Chapter when he suddenly heard someone knocking at the door.

Only at the knock-knock did Xing Yan remember that it was almost time to eat. Presumably, some servant he knew had noticed his absence and come to fetch him. The thought made his hunger all the more unbearable. Already a little dizzy and bleary-eyed, he hastily stood up, hid the Upper Clarity Scripture, shook out his sleeves, and went to open the door.

When Xing Yan opened it, he found not some familiar servant boy but Ying'er, whom he had just "run into" that afternoon. The little maid was looking at him with a beaming smile.

"Oh, I was wondering who it was! It's you, Ying'er. Is dinner ready?"

The boy was not quite sure why the little maid had come to see him.

"Yes! Dinner started ages ago. But that's not why I came. I just heard some wonderful news and wanted to tell you, but I waited and waited, and you still didn't come to eat, so I came here to find you!"

Judging by Ying'er's eager expression, there really did seem to be something good.

"Oh? Really? What news?"

Then the ravenous boy muttered under his breath:

"Er...what good news could there be besides dinner...?"

"It really is good news! And it has a lot to do with you!"

Seeing that the boy seemed less than interested, Ying'er hurriedly poured out everything she had just heard like beans spilling from a bamboo tube, presenting the news to Xing Yan as though offering a treasure:

"Just now, when I was serving wine outside, I heard the officials who'd come to drink with the girls saying that His Majesty has waived three years of taxes and grain levies for the mountain folk outside Raozhou! The decree only reached Raozhou City this afternoon. They haven't even had time to post the notice yet!"

"Wow! That really is wonderful news!"

At this unexpected glad tidings, Xing Yan was beside himself with joy:

"Little Sister Ying'er, thank you for coming to tell me!"

In his delight, Xing Yan scarcely knew what he was saying-he had even started calling her his little sister!

"Yes! I wasn't lying!"

Seeing Xing Yan so happy, the little maid caught his excitement and broke into a radiant smile. At the end, though, she murmured softly:

"I'm not little anymore!"

Naturally, the jubilant boy did not hear that remark.

Once his first rush of happiness had subsided a little, Xing Yan began asking Ying'er exactly what had happened, determined to get to the root of it. An imperial exemption from taxes and grain levies was no small matter. After all, the realm was now at peace, unlike the period immediately after a war, so such exemptions were exceedingly rare. Moreover, Raozhou was peaceful and prosperous, with neither natural disasters nor man-made calamities. There was really no reason to grant an exemption here, much less one lasting three whole years. Added to that, the reported decree specifically named the mountain folk outside Raozhou City, making it stranger still. After his initial delight, the boy could not help doubting the accuracy of the little maid's news and began questioning her closely.

But it seemed that Ying'er had caught only a fleeting glimpse of the matter and had not been able to linger beside those officials for long. Although she swore solemnly that it was true, she did not know the precise circumstances and could offer no real explanation.

Under Xing Yan's questioning, Ying'er pressed a finger to her cheek, tilted her head, and thought hard. Yet after all that thinking, she remembered only something about the court requisitioning pinecone wine; she had heard nothing else. Seeing her like this, Xing Yan stopped questioning her and went with her to the dining hall for a meal.

Although everyone at the Flower Moon House took turns eating, quite a few people shared Xing Yan's sitting. The three-year exemption from taxes and grain levies for Raozhou's mountain folk that Ying'er had mentioned was truly momentous, nothing like the usual idle gossip. Naturally, everyone at the table discussed it with tremendous enthusiasm!

Ultimately, however, they were all ordinary townsfolk. Every man and woman before Xing Yan felt that they were the greatest authority on this news, and one person after another delivered impressively reasoned accounts. They spoke so vividly that one might have thought they had delivered the imperial decree themselves. Several especially glib speakers seized the opportunity to hold forth at length. Drawing on hearsay, they thoroughly and meticulously unearthed all manner of hidden reasons behind this unexpected decree, then used their own experience of life to arrive at a final analysis and judgment-unfortunately, the resulting conclusions generally struck nobody but the speaker as reasonable.

Those among them who had relatives living in the mountains outside Raozhou City were happier still, as though they had won a prize. They simply sat grinning foolishly, unable to suppress their smiles no matter how they tried. For them, after all, this was a blessing so great that they might never encounter its like again in their lives! Seeing their wild delight, the others did not mock or tease them, but offered sincere congratulations. This was good news for the whole of Raozhou! Although most of those present did not benefit directly, imperial grace was said to be boundless, and in those days, a benevolent decree issued by the reigning emperor's own golden mouth and jade words was indeed an immense honor. Throughout Raozhou Prefecture and its counties, from the finely dressed gentry down to peddlers and porters, everyone would feel their prestige enhanced. In future, even their voices would carry three measures more confidence when speaking to outsiders!

As the saying went, all under heaven celebrated together. Throughout the Flower Moon House, residents and visiting patrons alike laughed and joked, inside and out, filling the place with a rich air of joy. Upon learning the news, Aunt Xia, the proprietress, had an extra small jar of rice wine sent to every table. Soon, cups and drinking tallies crossed over every tabletop in the Flower Moon House, while invitations to drink and words of congratulation rang out without cease.

At that moment, young Xing Yan's face also seemed to blossom with smiles. Several cups of wine had been pressed upon him, leaving his cheeks and ears somewhat flushed. Amid the confused clamor of everyone talking at once, he had managed to gather roughly what had happened. It turned out that a decree from the reigning emperor had reached Raozhou's prefect that day, specifically ordering the prefecture to offer its locally produced pinecone wine as tribute. In compensation, the mountain folk of Raozhou were expressly exempted from three years of taxes and grain levies.

Having more or less understood the reason, everyone praised His Majesty's deep concern for his people while making all manner of guesses about the decree's origins. Some said that Raozhou's mountains were numinous and its waters beautiful, so its pinecone wine naturally benefited from the land's auspicious influences. Steeped in Raozhou's spiritual essence, it was bound to be extraordinary! Didn't believe it? If its quality were not pure and exquisite, could it have caught His Majesty's attention? As soon as this conjecture emerged, it won unanimous approval from the Raozhou locals present, with voices chiming in endlessly.

Some went further still, expanding on this idea until Raozhou's pinecone wine became a miraculous elixir, jade nectar fit for immortals, capable of curing every illness! Occasionally, someone raised a small objection: however excellent their pinecone wine might be, how could the emperor, living deep within his palace and imperial gardens, know anything about this little city of Raozhou?

The moment such a dampening remark arose, it was drowned beneath a surging torrent of words. Amid scornful dismissals, someone knowledgeable soon supplied a reasonable explanation: the title "Son of Heaven" meant precisely that the emperor was Heaven's son. A moment's thought would reveal that his powers were vast and his sacred hearing reached ten thousand miles. Learning of something a thousand miles away was mere child's play. Nothing could be more natural and proper than the Son of Heaven knowing about their fine Raozhou wine!

Xing Yan merely smiled at these discussions, inwardly disagreeing. His own family brewed pinecone wine, so he knew that, although it was clear and mellow with a lingering flavor, it could hardly have anything to do with medicine, much less be jade nectar fit for immortals! As for the notion that the emperor could know what happened a thousand miles away, the boy, who had read so many works of the sages, found it even more laughable. Of course, with everyone so happy, the tactful boy would hardly insist on being serious and spoil their enjoyment.

Still, from the look of things, this imperial decree would immediately multiply the worth of his family's pinecone wine! Their once exceedingly cheap mountain-village home brew might truly fetch the price of an immortal's nectar in the future!

When the talk turned to pinecone wine curing every illness, Xing Yan noticed one particularly interesting account. According to the speaker, he had heard it from a well-informed merchant from the north who dealt on a large scale. This merchant said that Princess Qingcheng, cherished by the imperial family as a treasure of the nation, had lately, for some unknown reason, been listless and dispirited all day long, eventually even losing her appetite for food and tea. The empress, distressed for her daughter, had questioned the princess in every possible way, hoping to learn what she wished to eat or drink. Unable to withstand the questioning, the princess had finally said that she wanted to taste the pinecone wine made by common folk. Thus, this supremely glorious duty had inevitably fallen upon Raozhou Prefecture, renowned throughout the land for its abundant pinecone wine-at this point, Xing Yan could not help wanting to laugh. Clearly, some Raozhou local must have added that last sentence.

Although everyone at the table nodded repeatedly as they listened, Xing Yan knew that the story was riddled with holes and would not bear scrutiny. Surely some fiercely patriotic Raozhou local had forcibly linked this ordinary pinecone wine to the incomparably exalted Princess Qingcheng to demonstrate that it was no commonplace drink.

Yet mention of pinecone wine, and of Princess Qingcheng, the heroine of this strange street-side tale, once again brought to Xing Yan's mind the girl who haunted his dreams and his soul. All the moments he had shared with Ju Ying during those unforgettable three days floated back into his heart-the rosy flush of her cheeks after drinking pinecone wine, and her bashful silence when he jokingly mentioned Princess Qingcheng. Every detail remained so vivid and alive, as though she were right before him.

Then he remembered that, after their farewell at the foot of Horseshoe Mountain, there was no telling when they might meet again. An inexplicable ache stirred in the breast of this normally cheerful, open-hearted boy...Sorrow entered his heart, burning an inch deep; sorrow entered his bowels, twisting them ninefold. Counting the days, tomorrow would mark exactly one month since he had first met Ju Ying at the Rice Fragrance House. Recalling her flowerlike smile and soft, gentle words, Xing Yan felt profoundly forlorn.

And so he began drinking a little too quickly...