Choosing a Disciple

Great Li, Red Cloud Commandery, White Ridge Village at the foot of Everbright Mountain.

Autumn hung bleak and forbidding over the crumbling highway. Seen from the village entrance, a gaunt horse approached slowly beneath the dim setting sun.

Xu Xuan sat upright on horseback in a black Daoist robe. He looked scarcely thirty, though his eyes and brows carried a hint of age. A green-skinned gourd painted with streaks of purple lightning hung at his waist, filled with strong liquor and swaying constantly.

An old man named Liu Shengshui led the way before the horse. His dark-red skin made him look like a shriveled sweet potato, and he walked with his back hunched, visibly ill at ease.

"Uncle Shengshui, are we there yet?"

Xu Xuan looked toward the distant mountains. He had not returned here in decades. Back then, he had been an orphan until his master took a liking to him and brought him into the mountains to cultivate at the Great Red Abbey.

Now his master was dead, and the sect's members had scattered like birds and beasts. Even collecting rent and recruiting disciples fell to him personally.

What a headache. Hopefully I can find a few promising seedlings this time. At the thought, Xu Xuan took another deep swig of liquor and shook his gourd.

Was there much left? Not much at all.

"Just ahead, just ahead. Immortal Master Xu, you went up the mountain to cultivate, and after all these years, you've even forgotten the way."

The old man spoke with the utmost reverence. After weighing his words, he still dared not address Xu Xuan by name, only stealing sidelong glances at the younger man on horseback, who looked for all the world like a drunkard.

This lad was as meek as clay from childhood, but now that he's cultivated immortality, who knows what might please or anger him? I gave him some money and grain when he left. Perhaps his return will let me bask in a little of his glory.

At that thought, Liu Shengshui's steps grew much lighter, as though he could hardly wait to bring the good news home.

The old horse beneath Xu Xuan was exceedingly thin and looked as though it had gone hungry for some time. Its coat was gray-green, and it walked so slowly that quite a while passed before they entered the village.

Water wound around the sloping fields amid barking dogs and crowing chickens, mud houses and stone paths. The clearing before the village was already packed with villagers who had brought their children to await Xu Xuan's assessment of their Root Bone.

Ten years studying by a cold window, only for a place on the golden honors list to remain a phantom dream; become an immortal in a single day, and one could dine on rosy clouds, practice Qi Ingestion, and sever ties with the mortal world.

If a child possessed a Spirit Root and caught an immortal's eye, that would be a single step into the heavens, leaving mortality behind forever. Their family and relatives would rise along with them, chickens and dogs ascending to heaven together. Thus, every face brimmed with unconcealable excitement and apprehension.

"Immortal Master Xu Xuan! Immortal Master Xu Xuan! Please, take a seat. Uncle Shengshui, what took you so long?"

A wealthy man in a brocade robe emerged from the crowd. He was already thirty and looked somewhat worn, with a gold-and-jade thumb ring on his hand. This was Liu Fanhe, White Ridge Village's wealthy landowner and village head.

Liu Shengshui answered, then hurried into the village to find his grandson, afraid someone else might get ahead of him.

Two grand armchairs of yellow rosewood had already been set out before the crowd. An ebony table stood in front of them, bearing tea and the spiritual grain White Ridge Village owed this time.

Xu Xuan dismounted without haste, exchanged greetings with Liu Fanhe, and sat down with him.

Back then, this lad was just a mud-legged peasant my age. He didn't even have parents and could only scrape by doing odd jobs at my house. Look at him now-truly a man among immortals. What a carefree life.

At the thought, Liu Fanhe discreetly rubbed his lower back. He was getting older and could no longer keep up with the new concubine he had taken into his household. He wondered whether Xu Xuan's sect had any precious medicine to bring the dragon and tiger into harmony, but it was hardly something he could ask about openly. Failing that, he would have to consult a physician in secret.

"No need to rush. Form a single line and bring forward your children aged eight or older. If they have a Spirit Root, I certainly won't overlook them."

At Xu Xuan's words, the bustling villagers immediately lined up, no longer daring to jostle for places.

The emperor of Great Li scarcely concerned himself with affairs these days and was little more than an empty figurehead. Immortal sects governed the various regions, leaving no royal law worth speaking of.

If someone angered these immortals, well, their fate would probably be much like offending the authorities-or even worse, with their soul seized to light a sky lantern.

White Ridge Village had previously been under Blood-Burying Mountain. That Demon Gate had demanded annual sacrifices of young boys and girls. Only after the old immortal of the Great Red Abbey intervened and slew the demonic leader with a single sword stroke had their lives become much easier.

Xu Xuan put on few airs. He knew nearly everyone among the village's older generation.

White Ridge Village had simple, honest customs, with its rules and agreements carved into a great blue-stone tablet before the village. Though Xu Xuan had been an orphan, local tradition required each household to take turns supporting him until he could stand on his own.

He had received his share of scornful looks, but Xu Xuan was already deeply grateful. Simply not starving to death had been good enough.

When he first transmigrated here, he had found himself in a thatched shed, only eight years old. The bitter cold had nearly killed him. He hid in Liu Shengshui's cattle pen and huddled beside a calf until Liu Shengshui discovered him while feeding the animals, took him home, and saved his life with hot soup.

When he was twelve, Chongyangzi of the Great Red Abbey had put the Demon Gate to the sword and taken Xu Xuan as his disciple. Twenty years had passed since then.

Six years ago, a demon calamity had swept through Red Cloud Commandery. His master died slaying demons, and Xu Xuan became the Great Red Abbey's sect master. Yet his cultivation was only at the fourth level of Qi Refining. Much of the sect's territory had been lost, leaving only three mountains.

White Ridge Village had nearly a thousand inhabitants and lay close to the Great Red Abbey's gates. It was also Xu Xuan's old home, so he naturally cared more about it, though his face remained unsmiling, as if cast in iron.

The village's Xu clan had even written his name on the first page of their genealogy, alongside a founding general to whom they had somehow contrived a connection.

But if he acted too familiar, some fool might climb the pole he offered and use his name to bully the villagers. That would be troublesome.

He would naturally look after them in secret. During the great drought last year, he had sent a disciple to summon clouds and rain, though the villagers had believed the Dragon King had answered their prayers.

The young children were brought forward one after another.

Most of their parents were farmers in coarse hemp clothing, their skin darkened by the sun. It was the autumn harvest, and everyone was busy bringing in their crops, yet they had all set aside their work to seek a future for their children.

Xu Xuan summoned a bronze mirror engraved with the image of a dark bird. It was the [Profound Mirror of Bone Illumination], passed down through his sect. It had little use, being merely a minor trinket of Fetal Breath quality, capable only of seeing directly into the spiritual dais to inspect Spirit Roots. "None."

"None."

"None."

"None."

There were several hundred children between eight and twelve in the village. Xu Xuan had already examined more than half, and all were destined for mortal lives, without an affinity for immortality.

Yet Xu Xuan's expression remained unchanged, betraying not the slightest lapse in composure. He silently turned his sight inward. Within his sea of qi, a White Jade Ancient Stele bobbed up and down. The words [Sun-Flint Descent of Fire], formed from Crimson Flame, drifted uncertainly, pointing faintly into the village.

Today, I should be able to find someone with an affinity for immortality and fill the gap between generations in my sect.

Above Xu Xuan's spiritual dais, within his Consciousness Sea, eight Ancient Seal Script characters shone with clear light: [Sword Rises from the Deep Abyss, Dark Flood Dragon Commands Thunder]. They then became an azure flood dragon and vanished into a sea of clouds formed from Sword Qi, driving thunder and lightning.

Xu Xuan had caught Chongyangzi's eye entirely because of this White Jade Ancient Stele. When Chongyangzi cleaved open Blood-Subduing Demon Mountain with his sword and slew that Foundation Establishment demon, the stele manifested a strand of clear qi as eight Ancient Seal Script characters. Thus, Xu Xuan gained an affinity for the sword, became a True Disciple of the Great Red Abbey, and cultivated Sword Qi.

Now, twenty years later, the ancient stele had finally condensed another, much fainter strand of clear qi. Xu Xuan initially wanted to claim it for himself, but a Qi Refining cultivator's spiritual dais was small, and the azure flood dragon already filled his. Besides, this clear qi had not yet manifested any ancient characters, making it impossible to use.

Then, eight years ago, at noon on a bingwu day in the fifth month, his sea of qi trembled. The clear qi turned into Crimson Flame, faintly showing signs of forming characters. Even the jade slip in the abbey recording the fourth-grade cultivation method, the Heavenly Fire Eternal Radiance Scripture, shook incessantly.

Part of the Sect's True Disciple cultivation method was missing, and only someone blessed with a special allotment of destiny could practice it. At last, it seemed the person they had been waiting for was coming.

The Crimson Flame gradually formed characters. Eight years later, they became [Sun-Flint Descent of Fire]. Xu Xuan sensed a young child in White Ridge Village resonating with them, and so came here to choose a disciple.

Still nothing?

Xu Xuan had nearly finished examining everyone, yet had found no sign of the child. He could only vaguely sense that the person resonating with [Sun-Flint Descent of Fire] was here.

"Fanhe, are all the village children around eight years old here?"

Xu Xuan examined the last child, who likewise had no Spirit Root. Puzzled, he could only ask Liu Fanhe.

"They should all be here. With an immortal choosing disciples, everyone came, afraid their child might be left out."

Liu Fanhe's feelings were complicated. Neither of his two young sons had a Spirit Root, so neither could enter the immortal path. Still, none of the village's poor households had produced a suitable child either, sparing him too much embarrassment.

Otherwise, for his Liu household to be a prominent local family yet fail to produce even one immortal seedling would have had people pointing fingers behind his back.

The Xu were also a large clan in the village, though they were outsiders and still far beneath his Liu family. Yet producing Xu Xuan had already given them a slight edge over him. He wondered whether his position as village head would remain secure.

Just as Liu Fanhe was about to ask Xu Xuan whether he had any pills to strengthen the body and fortify its foundations, a child's crying interrupted him.

"I'm not going! I'm not going! Grandpa, stop pulling me!"

Xu Xuan looked toward the village entrance and saw Liu Shengshui dragging a boy with his hair tied in two tufts. His eyes shone brightly. Young though he was, his blood and qi brimmed with vigor quite unlike an ordinary mortal's, making him resemble a nimble tiger cub.

The four Ancient Seal Script characters [Sun-Flint Descent of Fire] trembled incessantly, the Crimson Flame blazing and pouring out brilliant light.

He's the one.

Xu Xuan rose from his seat. The [Profound Mirror of Bone Illumination] lifted on the wind and floated beside him.

Liu Shengshui was worrying over how to persuade his bull-stubborn grandson. Seeing Xu Xuan approach, he grew so anxious that he gave the boy a hard smack on the backside. Yet the child still refused to yield and kept muttering:

"I'm not going off to cultivate some immortality. Our old yellow ox still needs me to look after it. Grandpa, your back's nearly ruined. Don't you need me to take care of you too?"

Liu Shengshui felt helpless. His son had been eaten by a tiger, and his daughter-in-law had died in childbirth, leaving only this grandson. Though the boy was thoughtful, Liu Shengshui still hoped he would go farther in life.

"Why haven't you kowtowed to the immortal master? Where are your manners?"

Liu Shengshui hurriedly offered an apologetic smile, terrified of angering Xu Xuan. To this old man, whether an immortal was good or evil, a single thought was enough to overturn his family's life. He truly dared not show any discourtesy.

Xu Xuan treated him with great respect and regarded himself as his junior, but the old man always addressed him as immortal master.

"There's no need. Once you enter the Founders' Hall and offer incense, there will be time enough to kowtow."

Xu Xuan helped up the child, who had been about to kneel, his eyes smiling.

"What does this mean?"

Liu Shengshui was astonished, but Xu Xuan gestured for him to look at the bronze mirror. Within his grandson's spiritual dais, a ray of immortal light flickered: a Spirit Root, some seven inches long and quite extraordinary.

The length of a Spirit Root was closely tied to cultivation aptitude. The longer it was, the faster one could breathe in spiritual qi. Xu Xuan's Spirit Root had been only six inches long, but those eight Ancient Seal Script characters had extended it by another four inches, bringing it to an astonishing full foot—an aptitude sufficient to reach Foundation Establishment.

Quick-eyed and quick-handed, Liu Fanhe had already led Liu Shengshui in bowing to thank the immortal master. He then turned and whispered a few words into the child's ear. Liu Shengshui's grandson stopped making a fuss and obediently stepped forward to bow to Xu Xuan. Among those around them, some felt jealousy, some envy, and some offered congratulations, while others were already scheming to claim kinship.

"What's your name?" Xu Xuan asked softly.

"Liu Xiaowen. An old immortal fortune-teller gave me that name."

The boy grinned, carrying a touch of the mountains' wild spirit. He reminded Xu Xuan of how, many years ago, someone had asked his name in just the same way.

(End of chapter)