Volume Two: "A Sword Sharpened for Ten Years" - Where the Water Dragon Chanted, Thunder Raced and Ghosts Danced

After the turmoil that night, Xing Yan spent several more days feeling uneasy. Yet, just as after the quarrel that had erupted out of nowhere beside Poyang Lake, the days that followed seemed calm and peaceful. The girl with whom he had inexplicably fallen afoul never returned to the Flower Moon House to make trouble for him.

Presumably, the overwhelming barrage of flirtation that night had thoroughly embarrassed the young maiden and made her retreat in the face of difficulty.

Although the girl no longer came to pester him, the courtesans of the Flower Moon House and the musicians in its ensemble often teased Xing Yan about that night. They all said that, young as he was and honest as he always seemed, no one could have guessed that he had secretly incurred a romantic debt outside!

Whenever one of the house's courtesans came to tease him, she would invariably put on a coy manner and scold him with exaggerated affectation:

"Oh, young Master Zhang, you really have no eye for beauty! Look at all the lovely ladies gathered like clouds here in the Flower Moon House. Why pass over what's close at hand to seek something far away? Why not... take a look at me? Heeheehee!"

Then she and the other women watching the fun would gaze at the boy, whose face and ears had turned crimson, and laugh themselves silly!

But when a joke was made too often, it ceased to be amusing. To the person at its center, it became rather noisy. Xing Yan, whom no one had bothered with before, now scarcely enjoyed a moment's peace. Still, teasing aside, those women who had witnessed Ling Yier's peerless beauty secretly marveled as they toyed with him. They could not imagine how this unassuming country boy had become entangled with such an exquisite maiden. Even leaving her looks aside, the bearing faintly evident in her every gesture made it clear at a glance that this girl, who had come to pester him for some unknown reason, was no daughter of an ordinary town household.

Whenever someone curious pressed Xing Yan on the subject, however, the slippery boy always diverted them with a few words, leaving them none the wiser and thoroughly annoyed. In truth, blaming him for being evasive would have wronged him. Even now, Xing Yan himself remained utterly bewildered about the girl's true identity and origins. With his own mind so clouded, how could he bring clarity to anyone else?

Some busybodies also took the opportunity to question him about his tremendous strength that night-how he had sent that seemingly ferocious martial-world ruffian flying with a single punch. To Xing Yan, the answer was so absurd that he could not possibly speak of it, so he could only fob them all off with vague explanations such as "born strong" and "struck in anger."

Women, compared with men, were by nature more curious and especially sensitive to gossip of this sort. With so many women in the Flower Moon House, Xing Yan suffered for it, greeting and seeing off one questioner after another until he could scarcely keep up. In any case, his ears had enjoyed no peace these past few days. Particularly noteworthy among them was the little maid Ying'er, who chased after him all day asking about this and that. She was especially interested in his relationship with the girl from that night and questioned him at great length. Even the good-natured Xing Yan found her pestering difficult to bear!

That day, Xing Yan finally managed to send the little maid Ying'er away. At his wits' end, he sat with only his shadow for company and brooded. As he sat there glumly, he inevitably recalled the events of that night. The recollection stirred a thought:

The pieces that troublesome girl requested that night showed considerable taste. It seems that headstrong little maiden is certainly no ordinary household's daughter. If I hadn't spent so much time studying rites and music with Master Ji, I'd probably have made a fool of myself on the spot. Though I barely managed, some of the more treacherous passages were still beyond me. It seems I ought to find a chance to practice... hmm? That's it!

Something suddenly seemed to occur to Xing Yan, and his eyes lit up:

After Qinghe and I subdued the Bench Demon at the Zhu Residence, didn't I wonder whether I could try using the Great Splendor Dao Power I've been cultivating to help play that strange, difficult Water Dragon's Chant score the Lord of the Clouds gave me? How did I forget about that? I've really been run ragged.

By now, young Xing Yan had become accustomed to declaring without a blush that he was cultivating the "Great Splendor Dao Power" mentioned in Refining Spirit into Void-even though he had yet to discover any actual method of "cultivation." Still, he was only talking to himself. As long as he did not say it aloud to others, he need not fear their laughter.

At this thought, Xing Yan immediately hit upon an excellent way to escape the endless clamor of the past few days:

Why don't I take this opportunity to ask Aunt Xia for a day or two off and return to Horseshoe Mountain to visit my parents? While I'm there, I can find a deserted spot on the mountain and practice the flute to my heart's content. Ha! The best of both worlds. Wonderful, wonderful!

Once the idea arose, the more the boy considered it, the better it seemed. Unwilling to delay another moment, he hurriedly rose and went to ask Aunt Xia for leave, saying that he missed his parents and wanted to visit them, and that he would also practice his flute in some deserted spot in the hills near his home.

Ever since Xing Yan had frightened off a martial-world tough with one punch and driven away the disguised girl with a few pointed words, Aunt Xia, the madam of the Flower Moon House, had secretly marveled at this boy she had once regarded as just another common town lad. She now saw him in a new light. Since young Xing Yan was asking for leave, she had no wish to spoil his pleasure and readily granted him two days off.

At Aunt Xia's agreement, Xing Yan became like a bird released from its cage. Taking his score and jade flute, he darted off toward Horseshoe Mountain!

Once home, Xing Yan rested for a while, then helped his mother with some chores. Before he knew it, night had quietly descended upon the wilds of Horseshoe Mountain outside Raozhou City.

After supper, Xing Yan told his parents where he was going, tucked his beloved jade flute Divine Snow into his belt, slipped the Water Dragon's Chant score into his clothes, and set off to practice on Horseshoe Mountain.

On this autumn night, Horseshoe Mountain had shed its lush green summer finery and looked particularly lonely and desolate beneath the hazy moonlight. In the grass beside the mountain path, autumn insects, unaware that winter's cold was approaching, chirped tirelessly on and on. Looking into the distance, he could see the mountain ranges adjoining Horseshoe Mountain rise and fall along the contours of the hills, stretching ever farther away, while the pale, clear moonlight over the wilderness gradually receded. Within the mountain scrub and woods shrouded in dark night, all manner of dangers and mysteries of heaven and earth lay silently hidden.

Once again leaning against the smooth, gleaming White Stone atop Horseshoe Mountain, young Xing Yan spread open the Water Dragon's Chant score he had read countless times. He briefly reviewed it by moonlight, then set it aside and took up his beloved jade flute Divine Snow. He intended to give it his utmost effort and see whether the flowing-water-like Great Splendor Dao Power within his body could help him smoothly play this unusual Water Dragon's Chant, many of whose notes lay beyond the normal range of human hearing...

All around him was silent, save for the singing of insects...

To play the Water Dragon's Chant score the Lord of the Clouds had given him, Xing Yan had pinned his hopes on the Great Splendor Dao Power, which he himself could not control. Though this seemed rather like a desperately ill man trying any doctor he could find, he truly had no alternative. By ordinary means, Water Dragon's Chant simply could not be played; many of the notes in the book lay beyond the reach of human ears.

To explain this, a brief introduction to the musical theory of the time was necessary. The tonal system comprised twelve pitch standards, while the scale consisted of five notes and two altered notes. The twelve pitch standards were Yellow Bell, Great Regulator, Great Cluster, Clasped Bell, Maiden Purity, Middle Regulator, Luxuriant Guest, Forest Bell, Equal Rule, Southern Regulator, Unwearied, and Responding Bell; the scale consisted of gong, shang, jue, altered zhi, zhi, yu, and altered gong. These rose progressively in pitch. Taking any one of the twelve pitch standards as the gong note of a scale and proceeding in sequence yielded eighty-four modes in all. Yet most of these eighty-four modes already lay beyond the range of human hearing and thus had no practical significance. The troublesome part was that the score the old Lord of the Clouds had given Xing Yan made frequent use of precisely these notes. Any pedantic scholar steeped in musical theory for years would surely have denounced such a score as utter nonsense!

For some reason, however, although the boy knew the score was absurd, he felt an instinctive trust in the old man who had given it to him. He never felt that the gift had been meant to make a fool of him. Thus, tonight, upon Horseshoe Mountain beneath a bright moon and in a clear breeze, he would test whether the Great Splendor Dao Power he cultivated could lend him a hand.

But this time, good fortune seemed absent, and Xing Yan encountered the difficulty he had expected:

No matter how often he called for that flowing-water-like power, at once familiar and strange, its wandering traces remained nowhere to be found!

Seeing this, Xing Yan concentrated and pondered for a while longer, yet still gained no insight.

After fumbling about for a while, the clever boy stopped all his pointless attempts to summon it and began calmly recalling the occasions when this Great Splendor Dao Power had appeared. The first time, bored on a summer night, he had gazed at the pure, star-filled sky above the mountain wilderness. The second time, beneath blue skies beside misty waters, he had stared entranced at Ju Ying's immortal beauty, like a celestial shoot bearing a spirit blossom. The third time, in the Zhu Residence's reception hall, he had closed his eyes and awaited the Elm Bench Demon's lightning strike, which bore down upon him like racing thunder...

As he pondered, he thought again of the name "Great Splendor Dao Power," and fragments from Refining Spirit into Void began flashing through his mind like scenes in a revolving lantern:

"The path of refining spirit lies in nonaction alone."

"Without intent and without action lies folly; without intent but with action lies nature; with intent and with action lies the mundane;"

"With intent but without action lies the Celestial Person."

"To refine spirit through nonaction is the way of the Celestial Person..."

Perhaps I understand.

As though a flash of inspiration had streaked through him, the puzzled boy suddenly smiled faintly, something stirring within his heart. His expression relaxed, and his limbs stretched out at ease. Before long, from some wondrous instant onward, he seemed to become one with the mountains, the waters, the grasses, the trees, the clouds, the moon-with everything between heaven and earth:

Do not ask where this person came from; do not ask where he would go. Amid this boundless heaven and earth, within this vast and mighty universe, he was always meant to be this way, and so this way he became. But if one asked why he, the mountains, the waters, the grasses, the trees, the clouds, the moon, and every last thing should be this way-

The answer was: the Heavenly Way has its constant order. I am as nature makes me.

And so, within that unseen exchange of question and answer, which seemed almost truly to exist, the mysterious, flowing Great Splendor Dao Power naturally appeared within young Zhang Xingyan's body, as though it had been there all along.

Without any deliberate awareness, Xing Yan raised the jade flute Divine Snow to his lips just as naturally and began to play. From that moment, a melody perhaps audible only to heaven and earth, clouds and moon, water and wind, grasses and trees, and the boy himself spread outward from him through the night sky, where moonlight flowed like water. Quietly yet surging, in this contradictory yet harmonious manner, it traveled in every direction:

...Deep within the dark forest, a hunter who had come out under cover of night to set traps stared in terror at a fierce tiger poised to pounce before him. Just as all hope turned to ashes, he suddenly noticed that the tiger, intent on its prey, seemed to hear something in the forest where only leaves rustled. It turned its immense, matchlessly imposing head in another direction and gazed intently, then abandoned the food at its jaws and quietly walked that way. Watching the tiger's powerful body part the trees and disappear into the night, the hunter, snatched back from death, sat dumbfounded, unable to believe his eyes.

...In Raozhou City, late at night when everyone was still, an impoverished wastrel short of money had slipped out under cover of darkness to steal from a household. Just as he climbed over the fence and landed quietly, congratulating himself, he discovered in sudden terror an enormous wolfhound crouching in the moonlit shadows by the wall, scarcely a step away. His legs went weak with fright, and he was about to flee headlong, only to discover, unexpectedly, that the dog neither rushed at him barking nor tried to bite. Instead, it stared blankly toward the eastern side of the city, utterly motionless.

"What a fool I am! It's only a dog statue."

The wastrel casually pressed a hand onto the dog's head-and at once, the quiet courtyard erupted in flying chickens, leaping dogs, and piss-and-shit panic!

"It's a real dog!"

That piercing scream echoed above Raozhou City and lingered for a long, long time...

As for the boy playing the jade flute Divine Snow, he had become completely immersed in this wondrous state that words could neither explain nor describe, utterly unaware of anything happening outside him. He did not know that the night sky, originally veiled by only a few wisps of cloud, was gathering ever more dark clouds. Wind and thunder rumbled faintly, while streaks of lightning flashed now and then, baring claws and fangs like dragons and serpents.

From the distant mountain wilderness came bursts of uncanny wind, sounding like the wailing of ghosts.

Meanwhile, within the emerald jade body of Divine Snow, the flute in Xing Yan's hands, the snow-white markings seemed to come alive. Following the melody of Water Dragon's Chant, they gathered and dispersed, parted and joined, roaming and circling ceaselessly through the green jade like dragons surging beneath the sea.

Around the boy, several paces beyond the White Stone at the center, more and more beasts gathered. Some crouched, some lay prone, some stood, and some crawled: tigers, leopards, bears, brown bears, wolves, apes, wildcats, and rabbits. Tigers nestled beside rabbits, apes beside brown bears, all with lowered brows and docile ears. They remained there quietly, gazing at the boy absorbed in his playing, heedless of the lightning and thunder at the edge of the sky...

That night, with the aid of the flowing-water-like power, Xing Yan finally played the strange and difficult Water Dragon's Chant with full, unrestrained abandon!

Yet as the notes poured forth, the boy dimly sensed that the "flowing water" within his body, which sustained the jade flute Divine Snow, was weakening and dwindling to an ever finer stream. Just before the entire piece reached its end, the boy, immersed in that supreme state, "saw" that the flowing water had run dry!

In an instant, Xing Yan felt as though a thousand needles and ten thousand blades were suddenly scraping and stabbing within his marrow, filling him with agonizing pain. More terrifying still, he felt that all the flesh and blood in his body were about to follow the final lingering thread of that flowing water into the flute. However hard he tried, he could not stop it...

At this critical moment, the strange White Stone on Horseshoe Mountain once again saved Xing Yan.

Just as Xing Yan felt that his body and spirit were about to be annihilated, the rock against which he leaned suddenly sent forth a mighty force, as it had before, pouring in an unbroken stream. Xing Yan was now more than familiar with this power: it was the life-saving Great Splendor Dao Power!

And so this Water Dragon's Chant, unmatched in all ages, reached its perfect conclusion in such a wondrous fashion!

After the final note faded into the night sky, the thunder and lightning that had long been brewing overhead suddenly hurtled straight at the boy. In a single instant, all the lightning streaked across above his head and vanished without a trace.

At that moment, the once-clamorous heaven and earth returned to silence... until, until the White Stone behind the boy suddenly dissolved into powder that filled the air, drifting and scattering between heaven and earth like snow dancing on the wind, like flowers floating down as snow. And where those "snowflakes" had risen, a slender ancient sword stood, giving off a soft, mysterious glow...

Thus:

A thousand years passed in a finger's snap,

A sword lay casually sharpened for ten years.

A heart intent forged a soul to pierce the skies,

Yet fell short of sitting idly on a mountain crest.

End of Volume Two of Dust Along the Immortal Road.

Please look forward to Volume Three:

"Dream of Three Lifetimes Beneath the Moon"