Homecoming

Daoist Zhenwei had served as the head of Rainfall Temple for over forty years. Some said the old temple master was in his eighties, others his nineties, and still others said he was over a hundred.

His beard and hair were snowy white, his eyebrows long, his hair white as a crane's feathers. He had all the bearing of an immortal.

Everyone knew the old temple master was approachable and deeply versed in the Way. Yet no one knew that he had actually come from Three Pure Ones Immortal Mountain.

Eighty years ago, when he was in his teens, he too had passed the entrance examination of the Three Pure Ones Immortal Sect, successfully begun feeding on qi, and cultivated on Little Ten Thousand Mountain.

But he had remained stuck at Palace-Opening all his life.

Back then, he had registered under Sword-Casting Mountain, determined to become a sword immortal. He had intended to open his Metal Palace first, yet never grasped the essential meaning of refined metal.

At forty, the old temple master had finally accepted his fate and taken his leave of Three Pure Ones Mountain. With nothing but the treasured sword that never left his side, he returned to the mortal world and chose to remain at Rainfall Temple, worshipping the Three Pure Ones. When the previous temple master passed away, he distinguished himself from the others and succeeded him.

That day, the old temple master once again stood alone before the Hall of Immortal Ge. He gazed devoutly at the immortal's statue, yet his eyes seemed to see past Immortal Ge, through the hall's walls and layer upon layer of cloud, to Three Pure Ones Immortal Mountain.

Thud!

The sound of something heavy hitting the ground caught his attention, seemingly accompanied by a cry of pain. For that instant, his gaze grew sharper than a hawk's, revealing something of the keen edge he had possessed in his youth.

But only for an instant. His kindly expression returned, now even touched with delight. What petty thief would dare cause trouble under the noses of Three Pure Ones Mountain? Someone must have come out of the sect again, and for the first time, too. They must have fallen out of the Water Mirror, unaware that this sort of transportation formation involved a drop-and that this particular formation deposited them inside an enormous cauldron.

Chuckling, the old temple master entered the Hall of Immortal Ge, then turned into the alchemy side hall, where few people ordinarily came. Sure enough, he found a young Daoist inside a huge cauldron at the back.

The young man sat sprawled inside it, wearing a lake-blue outer robe with mountain mists depicted on the chest and an eight-trigram design on the back, over a pale peach inner garment. A straight purple headband crossed his forehead. He wore a red crown topped with a cinnabar bead and a Firecloud Hairpin, white cloth shoes patterned with clouds, and a large, bulging bundle slung across his body.

The old temple master's eyes narrowed with a smile. Indeed, Daoist robes looked best on the young.

He squinted for a closer look and brightened. He knew this young fellow very well: a child from Camphor Fragrance Town at the mountain's foot, a prodigy renowned far and wide. Just last year, he had entered Three Pure Ones Mountain from this very place.

The old temple master stepped forward and helped him up, saying with a smile, "So Yunqi has come back."

Seeing the old temple master, Yunqi naturally realized where he was. From the temple master's unruffled manner, he supposed plenty of others took this shortcut.

He climbed out of the cauldron, straightened his robes, and bowed with his hands clasped, smiling. "Greetings, Temple Master."

The temple master pointed at Yunqi's bundle. "Instead of staying on the mountain, where are you off to?"

"I'm planning to travel beyond the mountain. Before I leave, I wanted to come back for a visit."

The temple master repeatedly voiced his approval and took Yunqi by the arm, leading him outside.

"You entered the mountain at Grain Rain last year. Today happens to be the summer solstice. It's been over a year."

Yunqi nodded. "Yes, over a year."

"Which district of Little Ten Thousand Mountain do you live in now, and which mountain are you registered under?"

Startled, Yunqi looked at the old temple master in surprise. Then he understood. He had heard Feng Ji Hu say that those who spent years in the sect without managing Palace-Opening either took an undemanding position on the mountain, sweeping or helping in the kitchens, or returned to the mortal world. With the skills they had learned there, becoming wealthy was hardly difficult. Some became sword-wielding wandering heroes, while others registered at Daoist temples to worship the Three Pure Ones.

The temple master must have been one of the latter.

"I live in Dry Three District and am registered under Bright Governance Mountain."

The old temple master stroked his beard. "Bright Governance Mountain! Remarkable. Its lineage has the fewest disciples in the sect, and it places great importance on Root Bone and affinity when accepting students. Getting into Bright Governance Mountain was a tremendous stroke of fortune for you."

Yunqi nodded as well. "I've certainly benefited a great deal."

"I was registered under Sword-Casting Mountain back then."

The old temple master volunteered this himself.

Following his lead, Yunqi said, "I have a good friend named Deng Wanchun. He's registered under Sword-Casting Mountain too."

Thinking of Deng Wanchun, Yunqi could not help smiling warmly. That older fellow was truly honest and sincere, and had taught him most of his swordsmanship. Before Yunqi left the sect, he had mentioned taking a fancy to a snail Deng Wanchun had picked up, and his friend had insisted on giving it to him. Yunqi had firmly traded talismans for it instead, and even that had made Deng Wanchun blush.

Sure enough, the old temple master wanted someone to talk with about the mountain. He immediately asked, "And under which Daoist is young Deng registered?"

"Daoist Jianheng."

Yunqi glanced at the temple master's expression and added, "Daoist Jianheng's secular name is Zeng Wenshan."

During his time in the mountains, Yunqi had visited Sword-Casting Mountain far more often than Bright Governance Mountain. On the lecture days early each month, he always spent most of his time there, and knew its people quite well.

"Wenshan!"

The old temple master's eyes suddenly shone. "I knew he would succeed! If he's taken a disciple, he must have opened his Crimson Palace and entered the second realm."

Yunqi said nothing more.

After dwelling on his feelings for a moment, the old temple master looked back at Yunqi. "Do you practice swordsmanship?"

Yunqi nodded. "I've tried my hand at it, and I do enjoy it. But practicing the sword takes so much effort, and money too. I haven't been feeding on qi for long, and my purse is thin, so I mainly spend my time on breathing exercises and focusing my spirit."

The old temple master abruptly stopped and stared blankly at Yunqi.

Yunqi stopped too. Under the temple master's fixed stare, he felt rather puzzled. Had I said something wrong?

After a moment's daze, the temple master came to himself. His aged voice trembled slightly.

"Quite right, quite right! Swordsmanship is boundless. In those days, I was obsessed with sword techniques. I practiced by day and by night, forgetting the fundamentals of feeding on qi and breath cultivation. I always thought I would practice the sword today and refine qi tomorrow. Yet day after day passed, and I watched my fellow disciples open their palaces one after another while I remained lost in sword moves, endlessly delighted by them.

"I remember one day, a fellow disciple wielded his sword with qi. It was swift and powerful, striking far beyond his reach, and he easily broke through my techniques. Only then did I wake with a start and throw myself back into Qi Refining. But by then, anxiety burned through me like fire. The more desperately I tried to refine qi, the less I could grasp its essence. One wrong step led to another. It's good that you understand this. You truly are a good lad."

Yunqi fell silent, genuinely unsure what to say. That was how Three Pure Ones Mountain worked: before Palace-Opening, disciples were essentially left to fend for themselves. They were pointed in the right direction, and all the great principles were written in books. If they made no effort to advance or lost themselves in external things, no one could help them.

"Ha ha!"

The old temple master suddenly laughed again. "You're absolutely right that sword practice costs money. Back then, I dried medicinal herbs for people, helped in kitchens, carried water, quarried stone-who knows how many jobs I did? Every bit of money and goods I earned went toward refined metal and whetstones, all to feed my treasured sword."

Yunqi laughed too. "Sword cultivators are all paupers. Who doesn't know that?"

The temple master threw back his head and roared with laughter.

Fortunately, the rain was heavy that day, leaving the temple with few worshippers or visitors. Otherwise, seeing the venerable Daoist Zhenwei laughing like this would surely have shocked them.

Even so, the passing Daoists and young attendants who saw him wondered what had gotten into the temple master today-and when that elegantly poised, richly dressed young Daoist had arrived.

"You were clever from childhood, with exceptional talent. I still remember how your father always brought you along when he came to play chess with me. At first you only watched, but after a few games you learned to play. Within a year, your skill had surpassed ours.

"Your father told me countless times that he wondered who he should find to teach you once you grew older. He had served in the Hanlin Academy and as a prefectural deputy-such vast learning, yet you left him with nothing more to teach you. Now that you've come this far, he should be the happiest of all. With its six thousand years of history, Three Pure Ones Mountain ought to have enough to teach you."

Yunqi nodded gently. Yes, if his father were still here, he would surely be the happiest.

"Are you in a hurry to set off on your travels?"

The old temple master asked.

Yunqi shook his head. He was in no rush. Staying in town a few more days would do no harm.

"Then find some time over the next few days to come sit with me at the temple."

The temple master spoke warmly.

Yunqi agreed. He thought the temple master probably wanted someone to hear more about his years in the mountains. His own travels were not urgent; spending a little longer at home would be good.

Delighted, the temple master asked whether Yunqi wanted to stay a while longer and wait for the rain to stop before leaving.

This time, Yunqi shook his head. During the plum rains, once rain began to fall, it simply would not stop.

He borrowed an umbrella from the temple master. After all, now that he was back in the mortal world, using the Water-Repelling Method in public would draw far too much attention.

Taking his leave of the temple master, Yunqi walked out of Rainfall Temple beneath his umbrella. He followed the familiar path down the southern slope, crossed the stone bridge over Golden Sand Creek, and soon returned to Camphor Fragrance Town.

The town looked just as it had before. Nothing had changed.

When he left, spring rain had pattered down; when he returned, summer rain fell without end.

The rain was so heavy that not a soul was on the road.

The townspeople made their living manufacturing incense and renting or selling houses. Few farmed. On rainy days, everyone stayed indoors, and no one watched the road or noticed a Daoist entering town. In this town near Rainfall Temple, Daoists were the one thing never in short supply.

Yunqi reached Green-Tile Alley. The rain had washed the green tiles clean, adding a splash of brightness to the gray curtain of rain.

Standing at the alley's entrance, he deliberately took a look. Every courtyard gate still bore the plaques he had left behind.

The ground was wet from the rain. Although Yunqi's shoes repelled dust, they did not repel water, and their soles were wet. In no hurry to visit anyone, he intended to return to his own courtyard first.

He reached his gate. The plaque outside its little eave had also been washed clean by the rain, and the writing remained perfectly clear.

It read:

Set forth on a journey to the clouds; may joy and blessings come.

Yunqi smiled fondly and pushed open the gate.

The courtyard was clean. Despite the passing of all four seasons, there were scarcely any fallen leaves or weeds on the ground. The few leaves there were still green, plainly knocked down by today's rain. The neighbors must have come often to sweep.

He opened the house door as well. Everything inside remained exactly as it had been, as though he had never left.

The young man entered the main room, set down his bundle, then inspected the bedroom, kitchen, and incense room. His gaze settled on the floor, the tables and chairs, the mirror, the cabinets, and the windows.

The main room and its tables and chairs were all clean. The neighbors had gone to considerable trouble to tidy it regularly. They had not felt it proper to enter the private rooms, however, so quite a bit of dust had accumulated there.

Probably to keep out dust, the windows had been left shut. With rain falling outside, the house was very dim.

Yunqi opened the windows to let in light and air, then used the Dust-Repelling Art. This minor spell consumed very little magical power. He also planned to draw a few Dust-Repelling Talismans later and leave them posted around the house for lasting protection.

He was just about to straighten the bedding when shouts came from outside the courtyard.

"Where did this thief come from? This is the Cheng family immortal's courtyard, and you dare steal here!"

"We've cornered you today! We'll break your damned legs!"

"Catch the thief! Someone's here stealing!"

A dozen men and women rushed in, armed with a motley assortment of kitchen knives, laundry beaters, chisels, and carrying poles. Hearing the commotion, Yunqi hurried out of the room, and the two sides met head-on at the main room's doorway.

"Uncles, aunties, what are you doing?"

Having already guessed, Yunqi asked with a smile.

The dozen men and women, all baring their teeth in fury, froze on seeing him. Even when Yunqi spoke, they failed to react.

Looking at the splendidly dressed young Daoist, one woman recovered first. She dropped her kitchen knife with a clang and threw her arms around Yunqi. "Our Yun'er is home!"

With a clatter and a crash, everyone dropped what they were holding.

Three or four women surrounded Yunqi, pinching him here and there and fussing over him from head to toe, all murmuring that he had grown thin.

Three Pure Ones above, Cheng Yunqi had hardly lived on wind and dew alone at Three Pure Ones Mountain! He had not skimped on a single proper meal or potent medicinal preparation. Apart from a few days of plain flatbread when he first joined the sect and had truly had no money, he had never eaten that way again. His appetite and fondness for nourishing supplements had much to do with why he still had barely a few copper coins saved. With daily exercises and occasional boxing and sword practice, he was lean muscle all over. How was he thin?

Several men stood where they were, rubbing their hands awkwardly and repeating, "It's good you're back!"

One man hesitated, then tugged at his wife. "Easy, easy. Our young teacher is an immortal lord now."

At these words, the lively scene abruptly fell silent. An auntie who was still stroking Yunqi's cheek stopped and snatched her hand back like lightning.

Yunqi laughed loudly. "Auntie, you only noticed I've grown thin. Haven't you noticed I've grown taller? Uncle Wang, let's compare."

The man Yunqi called Uncle Wang was the one who had just spoken. Yunqi went behind him, pressed their backs together, and straightened his chest. "Uncles and aunties, who's taller, Uncle Wang or me?"

Auntie Wang glared at her shrinking husband and smacked his chest. "Stand up straight!"

The man scratched his head, grinned, and hurriedly straightened his back.

He was a sturdy man, standing a little over six chi tall. Yunqi was still a little short of six chi, making him slightly shorter.

The woman stood on tiptoe and pressed the man's cloth cap down hard, while counting the cinnabar bead atop Yunqi's crown as part of his height. After a satisfied look, she loudly announced her verdict:

"Yunqi is a little taller!"

Everyone around them nodded in wholehearted agreement. The sturdy man smiled and nodded too. "Our young teacher is a little taller."

But no one mentioned immortal lords again.

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