Taiji, Taotie

Just as Yu Tunzhou returned to the mountain, a bald little monk not yet ten years old came running over. His lips were red and his teeth white, and his face was alight with excitement.

"Senior Brother, Senior Brother! Do you know what sound a fox makes?"

Yu Tunzhou was still going over what he had heard from Senior Zhang about Qi Ingestion that day, and gave an absentminded answer:

"Great Chu shall rise, Chen Sheng shall be king."

The little novice's eyes went wide, as though he had been dealt a tremendous shock.

Without breaking stride, Yu Tunzhou returned to his door.

Calling it a home was generous. It was really just four yellow mud walls holding up a thatched roof. The thatch was thick, but its edges had already begun to come loose.

Humble as the dwelling was, his virtue made it fragrant, and it did not stand alone.

To his left stood a Daoist temple roofed with green tiles. Its gate was always half-closed, and an old Daoist priest who rarely cared to speak could always be found sitting cross-legged inside.

To the right was a Buddhist temple, home to the little monk Dingguang and a master whose Dharma name was Xuanku.

These two were the other seniors who, along with Old Mo, had protected him three years ago.

Yu Tunzhou tipped the two dragonfish into the large water vat outside the Daoist temple. The fish flicked their tails, sending droplets flying and ripples spreading across the water. Their vitality was terrifyingly tenacious.

He turned and went inside, carried the dried fish he had brought in that morning out on a bamboo tray, and hung them one by one beneath the eaves again.

"Dingguang, light the fire."

Yu Tunzhou called outside, rolled up his sleeves, and headed for the vegetable patch a short distance behind the house. He picked a handful of verdant greens and went into the kitchen nearby.

The stove was dark with age. Yu Tunzhou picked up a piece of white, greasy fat from beside it and rubbed it over the wok, then stir-fried a plate of greens and pan-fried a salted fish.

As for the rice, Dingguang had learned under his instruction to cook it on his own.

The town produced no grain. The rice had all been borrowed from the Buddhist temple, while the vegetable garden belonged to the old Daoist priest.

In exchange for the former, he had to help look after Dingguang; as for the latter, the old Daoist had entrusted the garden to his care, and it had been nearly three years now.

Lunch was ready. Simple as it was, the salted fish fried golden brown and the freshly stir-fried greens looked quite appetizing.

Yu Tunzhou took out two separate sets of bowls and chopsticks, filled the bowls with rice, and added only stir-fried greens.

He personally delivered one portion to the Daoist temple next door, while Dingguang took the other to the Buddhist temple. Only then did the two youngsters begin eating.

"Senior Brother, could we use a little less salt the next time we pickle fish?" Dingguang picked up a piece of fish with his chopsticks and ate several mouthfuls of plain rice with it. He looked over pleadingly. "Senior Brother, can we have fresh fish tonight?"

"The more salt, the more rice you can eat with it." Yu Tunzhou pretended not to understand. "Isn't this salted fish?"

He planned to take the two dragonfish into town and try his luck, trading them for a Qi Ingestion method. Dingguang would just have to bear the hardship for now.

Dingguang rubbed his bald head and said, "Senior Brother, are you about to start cultivating?"

Yu Tunzhou took a long drink of water and silently resolved to use less salt the next time he pickled fish.

Hearing Dingguang suddenly ask that, he put down his cup and asked:

"Did Master Xuanku say something to you?"

The old monk's Dharma name was Xuanku. Yu Tunzhou did not know whether he was an enlightened eminent monk, but surely no one who could appear in this town was ordinary.

Unfortunately, Master Xuanku and Daoist Priest Shouxin of the Daoist temple were in much the same situation as Old Mo. Though they had offered Yu Tunzhou some protection, they could not help him in the slightest on the path of cultivation.

"No."

Dingguang stuffed a large mouthful of rice into his mouth, his cheeks puffing up like little buns, and mumbled indistinctly,

"But someone came to visit Master this morning. After the visitor left, Master muttered in the temple that the town was going to get lively again. So I guessed this round of immortal seed selection was about to start."

"Immortal seed selection?"

"Master said whoever finally makes it out of town will be an immortal seed."

"What else did the master say?"

"He said you don't have much time left." Dingguang eagerly offered, "Senior Brother, why don't we go beg Master to formally accept you as his disciple?"

"Don't make things difficult for the master." Yu Tunzhou shook his head. In truth, Master Xuanku usually was not very willing to see him.

Dingguang's little face fell, and he muttered, "If we don't make things difficult for Master, then this little monk's stomach will just have to suffer..."

After lunch and a short rest, Yu Tunzhou went outside and performed a set of Taijiquan to aid his digestion.

Over the past three years, his physique had improved markedly. In the early days, he had struggled to lift even one fish basket; now he could lift three full baskets in one go.

He had thought it was thanks to Taijiquan, but now it seemed he ought to thank the dragonfish instead.

The Taijiquan he had learned from his teacher was the Original-Style Taiji Fist. It emphasized cultivating both mind and body, calling for a tranquil mind, a relaxed body, and complete surrender to nature during practice.

Thus, whenever Yu Tunzhou practiced the fist art, his mind was at its most peaceful, all his anxieties and troubles drifting away like clouds.

When he finished the set, he suddenly brought his movements to a close and stood still, staring blankly at his hands.

Quieting the mind and entering meditation...

Did the tranquility he felt while practicing count as quieting his mind and entering meditation?

It probably was not that simple.

Yu Tunzhou quickly dismissed the idea. Quieting the mind and entering meditation was considered the threshold for sensing mysterious Qi; it could hardly be so easy.

Although he had listened in on Senior Zhang's lesson and gained a general understanding of the difficulties he would face and have to overcome, the time had been too short...

On this trip down the mountain, he would have to see if he could find another chance to learn what qualified as entering meditation.

Just then.

Yu Tunzhou suddenly noticed an old Daoist priest standing beside the courtyard of his humble dwelling, holding a snow-white fly whisk.

"Senior Shouxin, sorry for the wait." Yu Tunzhou hurried over. The vegetable garden behind the mountain belonged to him.

The old Daoist chuckled. "It's no trouble. Watching you practice your fist art is a pleasure in itself, young friend Yu."

Yu Tunzhou hesitated, but asked in the end, "Daoist Priest Shouxin, does this fist art I practice really have the slightest use?"

The priest smiled. "Would you like to hear the truth or a lie, young friend?"

"The truth, of course. It's all right, I have a big heart. I can take it."

"Then the truth is that I don't know either." The old priest laughed heartily. "But you've practiced it for three years already, so why not keep at it? On the path of cultivation, when the water comes, a channel forms. Perhaps one day the divine intent will emerge of its own accord, and this fist art will be complete."

The divine intent would emerge of its own accord...

Yu Tunzhou committed those words to memory.

"Young friend Yu, do you consider yourself a gentleman?"

The old Daoist suddenly asked a completely unrelated question.

The question was truly baffling. Yu Tunzhou froze for a moment, then shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

In this world, a gentleman or a sage was no ordinary title.

"Are you asking because you want to persuade me to follow the Confucian path, Daoist Priest?" Yu Tunzhou tried to guess what hint might be hidden behind the question.

The old Daoist smiled but offered no explanation, turning instead to another matter:

"In a few days, some of the ten abandoned residences in town will receive new owners. Sorry to trouble you, but I'd like you to clean the one at the northernmost end of town in advance, to welcome its former owner."

Yu Tunzhou's eyes lit up at once.

He had long coveted those dilapidated old residences with their remarkable backgrounds.

Even a rotten boat still had three catties of nails, to say nothing of these old houses that had once been ancestral residences of Households.

Perhaps he could turn up some treasure inside, such as the Qi Ingestion method he lacked most.

It was only because Old Mo had warned him that the ancestral residences had spirits and were not to be disturbed recklessly that he had restrained himself all this time.

"Leave it to me." He agreed without hesitation. "I'll go this afternoon!"

The old Daoist smiled and nodded. "Then sorry to trouble you, young friend Yu. I can rest easy when you're the one doing things. Thank you for looking after my vegetable garden these past three years."

Yu Tunzhou shook his head. "I pick vegetables to eat every day, so of course I should help you look after the garden. There's no need to thank me. It's only natural and right."

The smile on the old Daoist's face grew broader.

What a fine "natural and right."

There had once been a person whom the history books of later generations all condemned as a Taotie, simply because this one person had swallowed up all the martial fortune under heaven, even though the world's martial path had been opened by him alone.

And the guiding principle of his great Dao had always been sixteen characters-

It is natural and right for a person to live for himself.

If a person does not look out for himself, heaven and earth will destroy him.

Before leaving, the old Daoist priest suddenly added:

"The town will be rather lively these next few days. But according to the rules, no one may use force in town for the time being, so even if someone tries to pressure you, you needn't be afraid."

Yu Tunzhou's smile held a young man's openness and cheer:

"Daoist Priest, I understand. A barefoot man has no fear of one wearing shoes. I have nothing to begin with, so there's no reason for me to fear them."

"Very good, then."

The old Daoist stroked his beard and smiled.

After thanking the priest for the warning, Yu Tunzhou turned, scooped up the dragonfish, and hurried down the mountain.

Watching Yu Tunzhou descend, the old Daoist's gaze grew deeper, and he murmured to himself:

"The great Dao is fifty; heaven unfolds forty-nine, and man escapes through the one."

"Young friend Yu, I hope you're not the one for whom attaining the Dao is 'easy.' Otherwise..."

The old Daoist shook his head slightly, a trace of regret on his face.

If possible, he did not want to personally deal with a young man who had spent three years building goodwill with him.

The old bald donkey next door, the town guardian of unknown origins, and himself.

Yu Tunzhou could not possibly know their true identities, but anyone with a brain could guess there was something extraordinary about them, and the boy was clearly a clever one.

This had led him and the old bald donkey to make a bet early on.

They had bet on when this clever fellow would choose to come to them, kneel and kowtow, and beg them, who had once lent him a hand, to save him one more time.

And that bet had lasted three years.

During those three years, their dealings had all followed the boy's principles of what was "natural and right," so that both he and the bald donkey had lost the bet.

And in the midst of it all, what had made him appreciate Yu Tunzhou somewhat, even regard him in a new light, was that Yu Tunzhou did not lack desires; rather, what he desired was immense.

The boy was open and forthright, never concealing his purpose. In his own words, he was saving up.

Saving up goodwill, saving up good connections, saving up people's favor...

Little by little, until the piled-up earth became a mountain and the gathered water a deep pool, until one day they would be willing to help him of their own accord.

Although the old Daoist did not believe that day would come, it did not stop him from paying the boy a little more attention because of it.

After all, there was a saying he had often heard in his youth:

Heaven does not abandon those who strive without cease.

The old Daoist priest, who had long since ceased to be young, wanted very much to know when, after dozing for so many years, heaven would act.

And how it would act.

The priest stood with his hands behind his back, overlooking the layout of the town. With a cold gaze, he watched the lights gradually come on in the grand mansions, and the thirty-nine Households about to take their seats at the dining table...

A mocking smile appeared on his face.

Another gluttonous feast, only this time the Taotie had been laid on the dining table.

Only when he saw the figure descending the mountain did the priest smile, finding it interesting.

"It is said that when the gentlemen of old directed their utmost sincerity at something, even metal and stone would open. Thus, gentlemen set their hearts right and made their intentions sincere."

"Young friend Yu, you are no gentleman. It's hard to say whether I am a stinking stone in a latrine, but there will always be someone who is not that stone."