Mists of the Immortal Path
Chapter 47

A lone rider through dust and haze, a youth in spring robes with soaring spirit

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After parting with the old Daoist at the wayside pavilion on the ancient road, Xing Yan set off with the Shangqing Palace disciple who was accompanying him.

Mount Luofu lay a great distance away. With the gold and silver he had received as a reward, Xing Yan bought two donkeys, one for himself and one for the young disciple escorting him.

As he rode along the dirt road, lush green grass and shrubs flanked both sides, and every breath was steeped in the heady scent of plants. Amid that boundless spring radiance, the youth on the donkey's back found himself recalling Ling Yier's lovely, lively figure. For a while, Xing Yan grew lost in thought. The scenes of their carefree swimming in Poyang Lake, and Ling Yier's graceful figure, half vexed and half delighted, drifted through his mind and refused to leave.

Yet compared with the anguish of parting from Ju Ying half a year earlier, Xing Yan was much more at peace now. After all, he was going to Shangqing Palace to study the Dao. However remote that immortal mountain might be, there would still be a day when he returned. Besides, unlike with Ju Ying, he knew where Ling Yier lived, and they would surely have a chance to meet again. Thus, he need not pine so deeply over her now.

Indeed, the youth now heading toward the foremost Daoist order under heaven could no longer be compared with his former self of half a year ago. Only six short months had passed since he first met Ju Ying, yet the trials Xing Yan had endured in those months were unlike anything he had known before. His disposition had matured considerably. Moreover, reading so much poetry and literature had helped him clarify his heart and understand his own nature. He now understood that a reunion might be measured in hours, days, months, or years, but a moment of parting must eventually come. Everything followed the course of fate; it was best to let nature take its course rather than force it.

Thus, for this naturally openhearted youth, parting this time from a girl with whom he had spent so much time was not quite so hard to bear-at least, that was what he believed.

In truth, perhaps even Xing Yan himself did not understand that two different strains of spirit had always dwelled within him, shaping his feelings. Though he had recently enjoyed some extraordinary encounters, at heart he had always been a poor boy of humble birth, braving the dust and bustle at the very bottom of society. His family's circumstances had forced him, while still very young, to earn his bread in teahouses, taverns, and the lanes of flowers and willows. He usually had to speak meekly to others, and bitter humiliation had often been his lot.

There were many poor children like Xing Yan in those streets. Yet he was somewhat unusual among them. The greatest difference was that, through a fortunate twist of fate, he had studied poetry and literature under a learned scholar. Learning to read had revealed many pleasures he had never known, but it had also brought him a bewilderment and anguish rare among people of his time: Xing Yan could no longer remain numb to such a life of bowing and scraping, as other youths in his circumstances did.

Fortunately, his naturally easygoing temperament kept that pain from weighing too heavily on him, and he continued his work in the streets as before.

Precisely because of his humble birth, Xing Yan knew deep down that nothing could ever come of any bond with Ju Ying, daughter of an illustrious family, or Lingyi, princess of the Dragon Palace. Though he had never seriously considered it, that conviction had sunk into the marrow of his subconscious. Thus, when he spent time with the two girls, he was instead entirely relaxed and candid, following his impulses and showing his true nature without dwelling on differences in rank-even stealing a kiss from the dragon princess in a moment of abandon!

But would things truly turn out as he imagined?

The youth now riding a little gray donkey, gazing dreamily at the scenery along the way, had no idea how tender hearts twisted and turned within tightly shut towers beyond ten thousand miles of mountains and passes, and beneath a lake of spring waters only a dozen or so miles away...

The post road stretched on and on. After a while, Xing Yan tired of the scenery and began chatting with the Shangqing Palace disciple beside him.

The young disciple guiding him to Shangqing Palace to report for duty was named Chen Ziping. Three years older than Xing Yan, he had turned twenty that year.

After exchanging a few words, Xing Yan realized that this Shangqing Palace disciple was not much of a talker. Usually, he answered only when Xing Yan asked him a question. His face, too, appeared solemn and dignified, as though he had never been one for casual smiles or chatter.

His eyebrows were especially distinctive. A little longer than most people's, they slanted upward toward either side, while their inner ends seemed set closer together than usual. Those two thick brows alone lent the young man in Daoist robes a vigorous, heroic air.

Having witnessed Ling Chengzi's abilities before, Xing Yan was particularly interested in Shangqing Palace's Daoist arts. Once those arts came up, Chen Ziping seemed to become more talkative. As he listened along the way, Xing Yan gained a general understanding of how Shangqing Palace imparted its teachings.

As it turned out, Shangqing Palace differed somewhat from the other Daoist orders under heaven in the transmission of its arts. Not every disciple there could study spells. Anyone who imagined that climbing Mount Luofu and entering Shangqing Palace would let them learn its profound and exquisite arts was sorely mistaken.

Regardless of age, newly admitted disciples could initially study only Daoist scriptures and the simplest, most fundamental principles of spellcraft. Only after the regular examinations, in which their elders questioned them, could those who performed well and were judged to possess an aptitude for the arts formally enter the tutelage of a master of the Shangqing Palace's "Qing" generation and begin practicing Daoist techniques. Naturally, their study of Daoist principles still had to continue.

Here, Chen Ziping made special mention of the fact that disciples of exceptional talent might catch the eye of a more senior Shangqing Palace elder and be taken directly under his tutelage. Clearly, the progress such fortunate disciples made in the Daoist arts was beyond anything ordinary disciples could match.

Chen Ziping, who was traveling with Xing Yan, was not one of those fortunate few. Even so, a rare animation crept into his face as he spoke. He told Xing Yan that only a small number of junior disciples were selected by the masters at each examination. He had entered Shangqing Palace quite early, but had waited four years-until the year before last-before gaining the good fortune to become Master Qingyun's pupil and study the Daoist arts.

Learning that this taciturn disciple had already begun formal training in the Daoist arts, Xing Yan grew keenly interested and hurried to ask for details. Yet at his questions, Chen Ziping's face took on a flush like that of a man who had been drinking. He merely told Xing Yan that he practiced metal arts and refused to say any more. His expression even held a trace of bashfulness!

Xing Yan was no dullard ignorant of the ways of the world. Seeing this, he knew he should not press further and changed the subject. Thinking over what Chen Ziping had just said, a question occurred to him:

"So the other orders don't teach their disciples this way?"

Only when Xing Yan stopped pressing him did Chen Ziping's expression become natural again. At this question, he specifically brought up the Celestial Master Order, which enjoyed a reputation equal to Shangqing Palace's:

"The great orders under heaven are not as exacting as our Shangqing Palace when it comes to teaching their arts. Take the Celestial Master Order on Mount Heming-it is very different from us. Ordinary disciples can study the Daoist arts under their masters as soon as they enter the order."

"Oh? That sounds rather good! As the saying goes, education makes no distinction between classes..."

At Xing Yan's praise, Chen Ziping merely smiled and said:

"Our Shangqing Palace established these rules for a reason. In the Celestial Master Order, for instance, the ease of gaining instruction in the Daoist arts draws a great many eager applicants. But that inevitably leaves good seedlings mixed with weeds, and makes it impossible to teach each according to their aptitude-"

To lend weight to his argument, the young Shangqing Palace disciple added:

"For that very reason, although many Celestial Master Order disciples enter the three orders' grand contest at the Daoist Origin Celebration each year, it has been many years since one of them took first place!"

"Hm? The Origin Celebration? A grand contest-what are those?"

In truth, Xing Yan still knew little about Shangqing Palace on Mount Luofu. Hearing these unfamiliar terms spring from Chen Ziping's mouth, he became intensely curious.

"Er... the grand contest at the Origin Celebration is held once every three years, on the birthday of the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning, foremost of our faith's Three Pure Ones. The three great Daoist orders under heaven-Shangqing Palace, Wondrous Radiance Palace, and the Celestial Master Order-each select outstanding disciples from their younger generation and gather them for two contests: one in spellcraft, the other in scriptural discourse. The debate over the meaning of the scriptures is one thing, but the contest of Daoist arts draws the most attention."

"Oh? That seems quite natural!"

Xing Yan, too, felt that the Daoist arts were much more interesting by comparison.

"Indeed! The three disciples who emerge victorious in the contest of Daoist arts each receive a Daoist treasure. But what we envy most is that the disciple who takes first place may also choose any senior master of profound attainment from among the three orders' elders and seek instruction in the arts and principles of the Dao!"

By now, the usually solemn and reserved Chen Ziping had a gleam in his eyes, and his words flowed much more smoothly than before:

"The Daoist treasures awarded are often pills that aid cultivation. Though their benefits are considerable, they pale by comparison. That chance to seek instruction in the Daoist arts is truly precious. You must understand, even disciples of their own orders seldom get to see those great elders. If you can use this opportunity to receive guidance from such renowned masters, whose mastery of the Daoist arts is already unfathomable, it can often equal ten years of groping about in the dark on your own!"

By the end, the young Shangqing Palace disciple's words rang out with conviction, while Xing Yan listened beside him, utterly entranced.

Without their noticing, the donkeys beneath them had already clip-clopped a considerable distance along the dirt road flanked by green thickets.

Chen Ziping's words filled Xing Yan with enthusiasm and longing. After savoring them briefly, he said to the Shangqing Palace disciple riding abreast of him:

"What a shame! All this time, I've been occupied with wandering about, and never knew our faith had such a grand occasion!"

After a pause, Xing Yan made up his mind:

"Yes! From now on, I must study the Daoist arts diligently under our elders. Once I've achieved a little mastery, I'll enter that grand contest too and give it everything I have, to win honor for our Shangqing Palace!"

Imagining that splendid prospect, Xing Yan felt his heroic spirit soar ten thousand fathoms!

At heart, Xing Yan was still only a youth. Hearing Chen Ziping describe the grand contest had inevitably stirred his competitive spirit.

Yet after making this bold declaration, Xing Yan noticed something odd: Chen Ziping looked startled, then failed to offer any reply.

As Xing Yan puzzled over this, the young disciple hesitated for a moment before stammering:

"Well, about that... ahem..."

"There is something you don't know, Brother Zhang. As master of Four Seas Hall, you hold the same standing in our Shangqing Palace as the heads of Virtue-Venerating Hall, Dharma Propagation Hall, and the other divisions. You are a Daoist dignitary in your own right. How... how could you become someone else's pupil to study the Daoist arts?"

"What?!"

His words reminded Xing Yan of his own status, and a sense of foreboding came over him. Then Chen Ziping continued:

"Not only that, when the spellcraft contest takes place, you will probably be one of the judges seated above. Entering the contest yourself is simply out of the question!"

The guileless Shangqing Palace disciple explained all this to Xing Yan with complete honesty.

"^#*@^★#!*☆~@!~"

End of Chapter
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