Chapter 58

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The young Daoist slowly approached through the misty rain.

The various spiritual beings residing in this mountain watched his back and murmured in hushed voices:

“That young Daoist—is he really the one responsible for such a massive commotion just now?”

“Impossible, absolutely impossible!”

An old man, barely five feet tall, his long beard dragging on the ground, stroked his beard while waving a wooden staff in his hand as he expressed his opinion: “The earlier upheaval—it felt like the heavens and earth were on the verge of flipping over! It wasn’t just an old pine tree spirit like me being blown into a stupor, with my spiritual senses sealed and my five senses failing—even the Mountain Gods slammed their doors shut, and the Land Gods were sent flying!”

“Even the door curtains were flipped inside out!”

“Inside out, I tell you!”

“It was so absurd it made this old man laugh.”

“Such an uproar—it’s likely something major happened in the heavens. This child must have just stumbled into it by coincidence.”

“Excuse me, may I ask where this place is?”

“I seem to have lost my way.”

“Oh, this is Zhongzhou Prefecture, at Ju Yun Peak, the gathering place of the Zuo Dao.” [TL_Note: Often translated as “Left Dao”, Zuo Dao typically denotes unorthodox or unconventional paths of cultivation, contrasting with the righteous or orthodox Daoist practices.]

The old pine tree spirit instinctively replied. Then, as if startled, it froze. Where on the road would one find someone asking for directions? Looking up, it saw the young Daoist standing before it. His brows carried a gentle expression, and as he asked his question, he slightly bowed, holding an umbrella. His gaze was mild and kind. Upon hearing the answer, he softly thanked the old spirit, turned, and left. The old pine tree stood there, its face blank, as if petrified by shock.

All the spiritual beings in the area seemed similarly “shocked”.

Or rather, they exchanged glances—each looking at the other—so awkward that no one knew what to say.

Their hushed whispers were imperceptible even to highly cultivated Daoists; only the Mountain Gods and Earth Spirits could hear them.

So how could this young Daoist hear them?

Speaking ill of someone behind their back, only to be overheard and then asked for directions—what an awkward situation.

Look! Even the bark of the old pine spirit, who has lived for centuries, seems unable to bear the embarrassment.

Everyone held back their laughter.

Qi Wuhuo held the jade scroll gifted by Tao Taigong in one hand while supporting an umbrella in the other. With a pinch of his fingers, he formed a hand seal, causing the jade scroll to float before him. As it hovered, its pages turned on their own, golden characters shimmering and glowing on the translucent jade-like pages. Within moments, he located the position of Juyun Peak. [TL_Note: Gathering Clouds Peak]

This allowed him to determine his approximate direction.

The mountain’s spirits had transformed into human-like child forms, though they were much smaller in stature.

They seemed to be nature spirits—sprouted from the essence of grass and trees—and were utterly delighted by the rain. They spread their arms wide, frolicking with joy. The young Daoist walked along the mountain path, holding his umbrella. Towering trees lined both sides of the stone-paved road, which glistened with clarity after being washed by the rain. Invisible to ordinary human eyes, the spirits flitted around him. Some perched on the umbrella’s surface, while others, emboldened, sat directly on the young man’s shoulders.

The young Daoist had his black hair neatly tied with a wooden hairpin. His left hand held the umbrella, while his right formed seals with practiced ease.

Before him, the floating scroll continued to unfold, its golden script emanating a gentle glow, hovering in step with his movements.

A curious spirit, its voice filled with wonder, asked: “You can hear us? Are you a celestial immortal?”

The young Daoist, still searching for the correct path, replied: “Me? No, I’m not a celestial immortal. Becoming an immortal is extraordinarily difficult.”

“In this lifetime, I don’t even know if I’ll make it that far.”

“Perhaps not even in the next.”

The spirit, filled with anticipation and curiosity, pressed on: “Really? Then have you ever seen a celestial immortal?!”

The young Daoist thought for a moment and shook his head, replying: “I haven’t seen a [Celestial Immortal].”

Hearing this, the spirits grew excited and chimed in joyfully: “We’ve seen them!”

“We’ve seen Mountain Gods and Grandpa Land God!”

“And the uncles and aunties who come to bring the wind and rain, the spirits in the trees, and so many others! Even the City God and the generals in the city—they’re all celestial immortals!”

“Though we’ve only caught glimpses of them from afar.”

“But we’ve still seen them!”

“You have to work hard, too.”

One of the spirits, as if to offer comfort, reached out a tiny hand and patted Qi Wuhuo’s temple, where his black hair was tied. The young Daoist smiled and said:

“Yes, they are truly amazing.”

After a moment’s thought, he reached into his belongings and brought out a handful of pine nuts. “These were a gift from a friend of mine. Would you like to try them?”

The spirits exchanged glances, initially wary.

Yet the pure and clear aura around the young Daoist, combined with the enticing scent of the pine nuts, proved irresistible. Overcoming their hesitation, they happily gathered around to take some, their joy evident as they began to eat.

One of the smaller spirits, resembling a nature spirit born of mountain grass, sat in Qi Wuhuo’s hand. It noticed the floating jade scroll and exclaimed: “Oh! Oh! That’s the big city in Zhongzhou, the one with so many, many people! I remember it. The osmanthus cakes there are delicious. Every year, when the richly dressed people come up the mountain to offer sacrifices, we get to sneak a taste.”

“Yes, yes!”

“In there is the greatest City God Grandfather and the generals with tusks wearing armor.”

“Are you going there? What for?”

Qi Wuhuo paused to think.

Why was he heading to Zhongzhou Prefecture City? What was his purpose?

Having suddenly left his teacher and finding himself in the vastness of heaven and earth, he felt a faint sense of bewilderment, as if the freedom to choose everything was also a kind of confusion.

Daily cultivation and breathing exercises—those went without saying.

Now that he was here, he naturally had to search for clues about the Mingzhen Dao Alliance.

He also needed to fulfill the wishes of those harmed by the heretical cultivator, Tantai Xuan.

His hand brushed lightly over the mirror hidden at his waist, and he thought of the rare chance to befriend peers his own age. A faint smile appeared at the corners of his lips.

He also wanted to ask the [Everything Unclear] where exactly her home was.

And, of course, there was one last task—the one the elder had entrusted him with before they parted. Inside his sleeve were two jade slips with their names erased. One belonged to Senior Sister Yumiao, and the other to a senior brother. The situation of the latter was similar to Yumiao’s, though Yumiao had to wait another five hundred years. This senior brother’s time, however, had already come. Thus, the elder had tasked Qi Wuhuo with finding this person.

As the teacher had explained, that senior brother had succumbed to inner demons and had been meditating in seclusion for a thousand years.

He possessed talent, a solid foundation, and an unparalleled Dao heart.

Yet a single unresolved thought led to his obsession.

Sending Qi Wuhuo to find him was both a test for the young Daoist as he traversed the world and an opportunity for the senior brother to break free from his stagnation.

After some thought, the young man replied: “I’m looking for someone.”

“Looking for someone?”

The mountain spirits exchanged glances. The small figures rubbed their tiny hands together eagerly, saying: “Finding people is what we’re best at!”

“We’ve eaten your pine nuts, so we’re friends now. Who are you looking for?”

“Heh heh, leave it to us!”

“No matter how hard it is, we’ll find them for you!”

“Well, uh, maybe if you gave us a few more pine nuts, and if they’re the syrup-coated kind, even better!”

The mountain spirits chattered incessantly, their innocent and playful nature shining through.

Even the old pine spirit, who had earlier been caught gossiping, pricked up its ears from the back and gave a light cough.

“Ahem! This old one has lived for a very long time—close to five hundred years! Five hundred years!”

“So naturally, I know quite a lot of things.”

Qi Wuhuo recalled the elder’s instructions, raising his hand. The jade book floated back and slipped into his sleeve.

With his right hand, he held out the pine nuts, letting the mountain spirits sit in his palm and stuff them into their tiny mouths. In a gentle tone, he said: “I’m looking for a senior brother of mine. He’s been sitting in meditation for many years.”

As the elder had instructed, none of the disciples were to reveal their lineage without his approval.

Thus, calling him “senior brother” was acceptable, as it wouldn’t divulge his own origins.

“His surname is Lu.”

“His Dao title is Chunyang.”

The mountain spirits, who usually loved to scamper around the mountains or sneak into the city for a bit of mischief, paused at the name. Despite their playful antics, they followed a pure and righteous path of cultivation, which even the typically stern underworld judges found endearing. It wasn’t uncommon for these judges to set aside a bit of osmanthus cake from the offerings to tease these little spirits.

Though their strength was meager, their connections were surprisingly vast.

Yet, none of them had heard of this name.

Even the ancient pine spirit, who had lived a full five hundred years—a truly impressive age—did not recognize it. There was a faint recollection, as if the name had been heard somewhere before, but the details eluded it. Feeling a bit awkward after boasting earlier, the old pine resolved to discreetly inquire with the Mountain God when it returned to its domain. Pretending to be nonchalant, it stroked its beard and said:

“Oh, oh, Lu Chunyang, Lu Chunyang, yes…”

“I know, I know.”

“Cough, cough. But, young Daoist, why are you seeking him?”

The ancient pine tree had its plans. It would deal with the boy for now and later consult the Mountain God.

If that didn’t suffice, there were always greater beings to ask.

The largest mountain in Zhongzhou housed a deity so exalted it was addressed as [Gong], revered as the Merciful and Compassionate, the Gatherer of Mystical Clouds, Lingmiao Gong. [TL_Note: In this context, “公” refers to a title of respect for a powerful or revered deity. It can be translated as “Lord” or “Gong”]

Thus, it mattered little. Answers could always be found.

The pine spirit watched as the young Daoist stopped in his tracks and turned back to glance at him. Beneath the rain’s delicate veil, the boy exuded a Daoist’s serene elegance. The sound of rain was soft, almost blending into his gentle reply:

“By my teacher’s command.”

“To guide him back to the Dao.”