Chapter 68
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Last year, a [guest star] trespassed into the Ox Constellation.
The Ox Constellation…
Qi Wuhuo quietly processed the wealth of information contained within this sentence. The fortune-teller rested a hand under his chin, smiling as he observed the young Daoist before him, as though anticipating an expression of astonishment. Yet Qi Wuhuo’s face remained restrained, his eyes half-closed as if lost in thought.
So, it turned out he had ventured into the heavens…
So, the place where he meditated that day was the Celestial River in the sky.
No wonder he had neither seen the sun nor the moon.
No wonder the stars were nowhere to be found when he looked down.
No wonder a year of meditation and energy circulation brought him to the state of the Three Talents Complete.
Ordinarily, even a year of diligent effort—meditating without pause—would amount to at most the equivalent of twelve years of daily one-hour sessions. By no means could it compare to the fifty years of energy cultivation his teacher had deemed necessary to reach the Three Talents Complete stage. Yet cultivation, after all, involves absorbing the essence of the sun and moon. Atop the Milky Way, where one inhales the sun and exhales the moon, a single day of meditation could rival a hundred days of progress.
However, another question began to surface in Qi Wuhuo’s mind.
Qi circulation involves moving the flow of vital energy.
Inevitably, this process causes some wear to one’s foundation.
This is why daily meditation is typically limited to an hour—anything more risks harming the body.
By normal reasoning, meditating for a year straight should have long since damaged his foundation, shattered his Life Treasure, and left him with no choice but to follow the path of cultivating the spirit while abandoning the body—a path of the Yin God. Unless… Unless the food he consumed that day was sufficient to compensate for the losses incurred during an entire year of meditation atop the Celestial River.
The fortune-teller seemed to know exactly what Qi Wuhuo was thinking. Lazily, he replied: “What you ate wasn’t ordinary.”
He gestured toward Qi Wuhuo’s body, his tone tinged with envy:
“The Ox Constellation harbors ferocity, but it is also its duty to use the [Jiukan] Waters to turn the three stars of [Luoyan], till the [Heavenly Fields], and cultivate its spiritual treasures. Among them is a spiritual substance. It appears as rice but can also be meat. When placed in boiling water, it becomes rice; when it rises into the clouds, it becomes rain. Only under the urging of the Golden Crow and Jade Rabbit can it be obtained. In the mortal world, it is called the [Yellow Sprout].”
“Yang stirs, Yin follows and transforms, and the Yellow Sprout slowly matures. The uneven five leaves unfurl in the Yellow Court.”
“The budding pistil blooms, releasing its purple-gold brilliance. Eventually, it forms into the [Divine Elixir Grain], radiating clear light that nurtures the universe.”
“Gently coursing through the body, it emits rays of celestial light. Both inside and out, it shines brightly, blending harmoniously with the Dao.”
“In the mortal world, terms like [Great Yellow Court], [Great Yellow Sprout], and [Divine Elixir Grain] all refer to this substance.”
“It is regarded as the supreme-grade [Immortal’s Sustenance], the best thing to repair one’s foundation—but also the most extravagant.”
Qi Wuhuo asked: “The most extravagant?”
The fortune-teller replied: “Naturally, the most extravagant.”
“This substance requires 300 years to sprout, another 300 years to grow, and 300 more years to ripen. After that, it must be left for 100 years to dissipate its fiery energy before it can be consumed. Now, with this Ox Star Sovereign tending the Heavenly Fields, even after a millennium, only three dou and three sheng have been accumulated.”
“And you, alone, actually consumed an entire dou and sheng!”
[TL_Note: 1 dou = approximately 10 liters. 1 sheng = approximately 1 liter]
“And what’s more, you ate such a massive amount merely to repair the damage to your foundation caused by your escape seven years ago.”
The perpetually slovenly fortune-teller looked at the young Daoist before him, seemingly wanting to say something. In the end, he couldn’t help but smile and sigh:
“Even if it transforms into rice when placed in water or into rain when it rises into the clouds.”
“Turning it into mundane rice yields a full fifteen pounds of cooked rice. How on earth did you manage to eat so much?”
The young Daoist’s face flushed slightly. Sitting upright with his hands placed on his knees, he thought for a moment before simply replying:
“Because it was delicious…”
The fortune-teller was momentarily speechless. Shaking his head, he remarked: “Well… I suppose that’s a reason.”
“Looks like you haven’t had much in the way of good food before.”
“This kind of thing from the Heavenly Fields absorbs the essence of the sun and moon’s cycles, grows amidst the glow of twilight, and is watered by the starry waters of the Milky Way. Only someone with enough patience to meditate for an entire year can truly harness its essence. Without such patience, no matter how much you eat, most of its energy will dissipate and go to waste.”
He added with a shrug: “Of course, the real value of it lies in the delicious taste.”
“As for its other benefits, there are always elixirs to make up for those.”
“They’re just not as luxurious.”
Qi Wuhuo asked: “Sir, do you know Uncle Yun?”
The sloppy fortune-teller sighed: “I know him. Of course I do. Otherwise, why would he send you to find me?”
“But even though we share some history, he refused to let me taste this Yellow Sprout.”
“And yet, you, a young calf-nose, how did he let you eat it?!”
“Not just eat it—but eat that much.”
“Whose face could possibly be so great?”
“I didn’t even get to taste it.”
“You ate so much of it.
“Even if I wanted just a single sheng, he guarded it like a miser protecting his treasure, treating me like a thief.
“And yet you ate a full dou and sheng? Fifteen pounds!”
“Could it be that since you’re a young calf-nose, you follow an old ox-nose?
“He happens to have a bull too, so he feels especially favorable toward your kind?”
“In that case, the next time I visit him, if I bring two cows—one bull and one cow—will he let me eat more?”
The disheveled fortune-teller muttered incessantly, questioning why Qi Wuhuo got to eat so much and why he himself wasn’t given any.
Lifting his gaze to Qi Wuhuo, he impatiently brushed his sleeves and said:
“You’ve probably learned everything you wanted to know. I won’t keep you any longer. I still need to stay here and wait…”
“Wait until tonight is over.”
As he spoke, he raised his head. Just like when Qi Wuhuo first arrived, he gazed calmly at the thick rainclouds in the sky, his brows furrowing slightly.
Qi Wuhuo asked: “Sir, did a client come to you yesterday, asking you to calculate today’s rainfall?”
The fortune-teller replied: “Yes.
“Today’s rain is still short by approximately one li and three hao of water compared to my prediction. There are still six hours left in the day.”
Qi Wuhuo asked: “Sir, did you make a mistake in your calculation?”
“I miscalculated?”
The fortune-teller suddenly sighed and softly said:
“It was his mistake.”
The word “mistake” carried a weight that seemed to encompass much more than its surface meaning.
After saying this, he refrained from elaborating. His tone made it clear that he didn’t intend to discuss further. Qi Wuhuo, who couldn’t grasp the full picture from just these two sentences, took his leave. As he walked away, he finally understood why he had been able to reach the [Three Talents Complete] stage within just one year.
Strolling along the road, he sensed the harmonious state of his spiritual essence, Primordial Spirit, Primordial Qi, and Primordial Essence—all brimming with vitality and purity.
It was a state of perfection.
A sense of joy arose within him.
His thoughts drifted to Yun Qin’s answer, and before he realized it, he had wandered into the bustling [Market] area of the Zhongzhou Prefecture City. In large cities like Zhongzhou, the urban layout was divided into [wards] and [markets]. The wards served as residential areas, while the markets were designated zones for trade and commerce. The two were strictly separated, with night curfews in place, giving rise to the term [opening the market] to signify the start of trading hours.
According to the city’s meticulous planning, merchants selling similar goods were grouped into specific wards. This made it convenient for travelers to buy related items all at once. However, if someone sought a wide variety of goods, they would need to visit multiple wards. The young Daoist recalled a verse from a dream:
“In the east market, buy a fine steed.
In the west market, buy a saddle.
In the south market, buy a bridle.
In the north market, buy a long whip.”
This arrangement was much the same.
Perhaps because the new year was approaching, the ward and market were bustling with people, lively and vibrant.
The street was alive with activity. Sugar figurines and candied hawthorn skewers adorned the stalls, and on both sides were residential homes—some opened their doors to conduct business, while others set up small stalls permitted by the court. From 1,500 paces starting from the city gate all the way to the great bridge, the area was designated for vendors to set up shop. At night, when the curfew was lifted, the streets were brightly lit, bustling with life.
Every day at the fifth watch, monks from the temples would sound iron plaques or wooden fish as they went door-to-door announcing the dawn. With that, the gates, bridges, and market streets would come alive.
In the dimness of winter mornings, many taverns lit candles and sold their brews. A serving cost no more than twenty wen, along with porridge, rice, and snacks.
Here and there, some sold face-cleansing water, herbal teas, and medicinal broths, operating until daybreak.
The lively atmosphere was something a village could never compare to. Qi Wuhuo watched the people passing by—children led by their parents, holding sugar figurines shaped like deities stepping on clouds, or wearing various masks. This warm and vibrant mortal world softened his heart. Even his Primordial Spirit seemed to move more freely and calmly. He soon found a pastry stall, its offerings displayed in abundance. The vendor greeted him warmly, saying: “Young Daoist, would you like some sweets? What can I get for you?”
Qi Wuhuo looked at the array of pastries and replied gently: “Two portions of osmanthus cake.”
He intended to share one portion with the mountain spirits later. The vendor, quick and efficient, prepared the order. However, as Qi Wuhuo received it, he suddenly sensed something unusual. His hand once again felt the same damp sensation he had experienced at the fortune-teller’s stall yesterday.
There it was again—a strange, faintly fishy scent, reminiscent of water.
Could it be him?
PS:
The poem cited is “Nankezi: Zhang Daoyi Asks About Yellow Sprouts” by Yuan Chongzi, a disciple of True Person Qiu Chuji.
The description of city vendors is inspired by “Eastern Capital: A Dream of Splendor,” Vol. 3, a memoir by Meng Yuanlao from the Song Dynasty.
