Chapter 77

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The little medicine spirit felt dizzy for quite a while before slowly regaining consciousness.

Instinctively wanting to yawn and stretch lazily, it suddenly realized where it was. It flopped onto the ground, limbs stiff, completely motionless.

It cautiously opened a small slit in its eyes, sneaking a glance at Qi Wuhuo.

Then, in an instant, it shut its eyes tight again.

As if thinking its act of playing dead wasn’t convincing enough, its tiny hands and feet twitched a bit for added effect.

It was trying very hard to play dead! Yet all it heard was the soft laughter of the young Daoist, who seemingly couldn’t hold it in any longer. The little spirit’s face turned red, knowing it had failed. It sat up abruptly, full of anger, covering the bump on its forehead with one hand while pointing at Qi Wuhuo with the other, babbling incomprehensibly in protest.

The young Daoist reached into his sleeve.

The medicine spirit froze. Its bottom scooted backward on the ground, creating some distance.

Still pointing a tiny finger, it continued yelling.

It wasn’t until Qi Wuhuo opened his palm, revealing a piece of osmanthus cake, that the little spirit paused. He had brought it along in his bag. The medicine spirit’s messy hair seemed to puff up in what looked like anger. It pointed furiously at Qi Wuhuo, shouting in its garbled language, but as it yelled, it drew closer.

Finally, it reached out, hugged the osmanthus cake, and turned around.

Da da da.

It ran off and perched on a stone, about the size children might use for skipping across water. Turning back to glance suspiciously at Qi Wuhuo, it lowered its head to inspect the osmanthus cake. Apparently unfamiliar with such a thing in the mountains, it hesitated, then gave it a tentative lick. Smacking its lips a few times, it found the taste rather bland. Still, it opened its mouth wide and took a big bite. Its cheeks puffed up like a hamster’s as it slowly chewed.

As it ate, it glared angrily at Qi Wuhuo.

Slowly, slowly, the expression on its face softened.

The chewing movements became gentler as well.

Finally, it pointed at the osmanthus cake, its face filled with delight:

“Yiyiya!”

The young Daoist sat on a rock and said: “I must have accidentally hit you while casting a technique earlier. My sincerest apologies.”

“This is to make amends.”

The little medicine spirit widened its eyes, thought for a moment, then finished off the osmanthus cake in its hands. Feeling thoroughly satisfied, it patted its belly and approached. Striking a pose like a mortal strongman lifting stone weights to showcase strength, it puffed out its chest, patted its forehead, and let out a spirited “heya” as it sank into a horse stance.

The young Daoist couldn’t help but laugh as he deciphered the meaning of the gesture.

“You’re saying you’re tough, so I can hit you a couple more times?”

“But if I hit you, I need to give you an osmanthus cake as payment?”

The little one nodded vigorously.

Eager to show off its strength, it looked around. Its eyes lit up as it spotted a stone about the size of a human thumbnail. Turning, it grabbed the stone with all its might, letting out a strained “hey-yo,” but the rock didn’t budge. Instead, its face turned bright red. The young Daoist burst into laughter, making the little one flush with embarrassment. It turned around and plopped down, refusing to move.

Qi Wuhuo reached into his sleeve, retrieved another piece of osmanthus cake, and placed it beside the little spirit.

The tiny creature let out a joyful cheer, turned around, and clambered up excitedly along the pocket.

It was big enough to fit in the palm of the young Daoist.

To it, this pocket was like a small hill overflowing with osmanthus cakes!

Leaping into the pocket, it began to nibble happily, first a bite on the left, then a bite on the right, utterly blissful. After eating its fill, the young Daoist scooped it up effortlessly. Its hair was still a tangled mess. Gesturing to a nearby rock, he smiled and said: “Go sit over there.”

In the winter mountain forest, this place was unlike Helian Mountain. There was still a lingering green vitality amidst the winter chill.

The young Daoist sat behind the little spirit, who obediently perched in front, letting Qi Wuhuo comb its hair. Once it was neatly tied up, Qi Wuhuo noticed its delicate features—an exquisitely beautiful face with fine, elegant features, fair skin, and violet eyes. However, its belly was round and swollen from overeating.

The young man asked: “How do you want your hair tied?”

The little medicine spirit thought for a moment, then pointed at Qi Wuhuo’s hair and babbled in its peculiar way, gesturing vividly.

The young Daoist chuckled and said: “A Daoist topknot?”

“I don’t yet have the qualifications to tie your hair into a Daoist topknot.”

“But I can help you bind it up properly.”

The little medicine spirit immediately beamed with joy, its small feet swinging happily as it sat on the rock.

The young Daoist delicately worked with its hair, carefully gathering and tying it. After a moment’s thought, he retrieved a pine needle gifted to him by the Old Pine Tree Elder. For the small spirit, the needle was the perfect size to serve as a hairpin. Without hesitation, he placed it into the tied-up hair, securing everything neatly. “There, it’s done,” he said with a smile.

The little medicine spirit sprang to its feet and ran to a nearby dewdrop. Squatting down, it gazed at its reflection, delighted beyond words.

The young Daoist played with it briefly before preparing to leave. Just as he was about to step away, the little spirit leapt onto his leg, climbing upward. The Daoist extended his hand, letting it sit in his palm before lifting it to place it on his shoulder.

“Hm? You want me to follow you?” He asked with a smile.

The little medicine spirit nodded vigorously and pointed toward a concealed mountain path, urging him forward.

Qi Wuhuo followed it along the hidden trail. The spirit suddenly jumped down and burrowed into the ground. Moments later, it emerged, hugging a large egg and presenting it to him.

It patted its chest and babbled enthusiastically.

“This is an egg you found, and you’re giving it to me?” Qi Wuhuo asked, amused.

“Do you also climb trees?”

The little spirit flailed its arms and stomped its feet in a lively explanation. Slowly, Qi Wuhuo pieced together its story: deep beneath this mountain lay a strange, hidden chamber. Inside, there was a bed, a meditation cushion, a lotus platform, and a bald man seated in meditation, long deceased. In that chamber, the little spirit discovered this egg, faintly radiating vitality, so it dragged it out.

For three centuries—yes, three whole centuries—it had painstakingly dragged the egg out!

Its plan had been to hatch a great bird to carry it through the skies.

Yet, despite its efforts, the egg refused to hatch.

Now it pointed to Qi Wuhuo, shouting happily. The young Daoist smiled and asked: “You want me to give it a try?”

“If it hatches, it’ll carry me around so we can travel everywhere and play?”

Looking at the egg, no larger than a fist, he surmised that even if it hatched, the bird would likely be no bigger than a wild goose. While it might be able to carry the little spirit, it was doubtful it could bear his weight. Besides, as a cultivator, once one mastered techniques like riding clouds and controlling the winds, flying became second nature. Still, this egg was clearly a treasure to the little medicine spirit. Since it had gifted it to him, he saw no reason to decline. Offering a warm smile, he thanked it sincerely.

When Qi Wuhuo mentioned he was searching for medicinal herbs, the little spirit eagerly tagged along, turning the quest into a playful adventure. After filling an entire basket with herbs, Qi Wuhuo traversed multiple mountain ranges. From afar, Qi Wuhuo suddenly noticed a dazzling change in the clouds on the horizon, as spiritual energy surged skyward. Voices carried on the wind, faint yet discernible. Curious, he approached the source. Peering ahead, he saw dozens of figures dressed in Daoist robes and cloud shoes, wielding magical artifacts. They were performing rites amid the mountains.

Among the group, a young swordsman holding a sword glanced around idly.

When his eyes landed on the young Daoist not far away, they lit up with interest. Smiling, he raised his hand in greeting and called out:

“Oh? Another Daoist friend here?”

“Haha! We’re in the middle of offering rites to the Mountain God. Why don’t you join us, fellow Daoist?”

The other Daoists turned to look. Qi Wuhuo thought for a moment, then approached. Everyone saw a young Daoist emerging from the forest, his demeanor calm and gentle. He carried a herb basket on his back and appeared to be only about fifteen or sixteen years old. His presence gave the impression of a humble apprentice, wandering the mountains in search of herbs. Most of the group merely nodded slightly in acknowledgment, but the swordsman seemed naturally friendly. He smiled broadly and gave a casual bow of greeting.

“I am Yue Ji, a sword cultivator from Wangwu Mountain. Ah, it’s rare to see a fresh face here!”

“May I ask, which sect are you from, and where do you usually cultivate?”

The young Daoist replied: “This Daoist is Qi Wuhuo, a humble cultivator currently traveling outside my sect.”

The sword cultivator from Wangwu Mountain nodded in understanding. “Ah, traveling as part of your training… So you’re a rogue cultivator.”

Many rogue cultivators would phrase their situation this way. Without a formal sect or teacher, claiming to be “training” sounded far better.

Yue Ji laughed heartily. “Being a rogue cultivator isn’t bad at all! You get to wander and explore freely, unlike those of us with sects. So many rules and restrictions—it’s stifling!” He clapped Qi Wuhuo on the shoulder. The force of Yue Ji’s voice drew the displeasure of an older man ahead. “Yue Ji!” The man scolded.

The young swordsman immediately fell silent, giving Qi Wuhuo an apologetic smile.

Qi Wuhuo noticed the token hanging at the young swordsman’s waist. It bore the insignia of the [Mingzhen Dao Alliance], the same organization the old Tantai Xuan had concealed his affiliation with. Unlike the old man who had hidden his token, the young swordsman wore his openly, brimming with youthful confidence and flair.

After all, the old and young have different temperaments.

Noticing Qi Wuhuo’s gaze, Yue Ji smiled slightly and said: “Ah, this? It’s from the Mingzhen Dao Alliance. What, brother, are you interested in joining?”

The young Daoist nodded lightly.

He adjusted the basket on his back and, after some thought, said: “I was hoping to exchange some medicinal herbs for basic divine abilities or techniques. Since you’re part of the alliance, could you take a look and tell me what these might be worth?”

Yue Ji glanced at the basket briefly, then shook his head with a hint of regret.

“No, that won’t work.”

“These are just common herbs. The Mingzhen Dao Alliance doesn’t accept them, and their age is far too short to hold value. It seems you’re not too familiar with how the alliance operates, are you?”

Qi Wuhuo nodded quietly as Yue Ji enthusiastically introduced various common practices and knowledge about the Mingzhen Dao Alliance.

This exchange inadvertently eased the minds of the older Daoists ahead. They observed the interaction and concluded that Qi Wuhuo was merely a humble rogue cultivator wandering the mountains in search of herbs.

Just an ordinary Daoist.

Yue Ji, perhaps seldom finding opportunities to share his knowledge, eagerly continued the conversation. He spoke for nearly half an hour, his enthusiasm unflagging, while the little medicine spirit hidden in Qi Wuhuo’s sleeve eventually dozed off. Only then did Yue Ji reluctantly pause, glancing at the sky with a sigh. “Looks like today will be a wasted effort.”

The atmosphere among the Daoists in front was becoming increasingly depressive.

Paying little attention to Yue Ji’s growing volume in his chat with the young rogue cultivator.

Qi Wuhuo asked curiously: “This is…”

Yue Ji replied: “This is the Mountain God Festival held every ten years.”

He seemed to enjoy the role of an informal teacher and continued: “Brother, you should know, Mountain Gods and Earth Deities are incredibly powerful. For example, in large cities, each district or every ten or so miles of land may have its own Land Deity. Where there’s a mountain, there’s a mountain god; where there’s a river, there’s a water god. As such, the number of these earth deities is nearly countless. They uphold the balance of the heavens and earth, but many of them disdain accepting edicts from the Heavenly Emperor or the Heavenly Court.”

“We of the Daoist sect revere the Three Purities and the Four Sovereigns.”

“The Three Purities are the Ancestors of the Dao, while the Four Sovereigns are the supreme and unparalleled ones.”

“All Earth Deities are subordinate to [Hou Tu, the Sovereign Earth Deity of Majestic Virtue and Great Magnanimity, Who Follows Heaven’s Example], one of the Four Sovereigns.”

“Who resides in the [Ruizhu Palace].”

“Under her command are three ministries and three bureaus: the Imperial Earth Capital, the Upper Bureau, and the Middle Bureau, each governed by Celestial Monarchs and True Lords.”

“Throughout the land, there are also Mountain and River Sovereigns who preside over great mountains and rivers.”

“These rulers govern the vast network of Earth Deities. Since the Hou Tu Empress, one of the Four Sovereigns, holds the highest position, many Earth Deities consider receiving the Heavenly Court’s edicts unnecessary. Thus, earthly sacrifices are split into two kinds, collectively referred to as [Huangtian Houtu(Heaven and Earth, Earth Empress)]. Today is specifically a festival for the mountain gods and earth deities.”

Yue Ji glanced around and added: “What you see here are representatives from all the major Daoist sects near Zhongzhou’s prefectural capital.”

“For the purpose of offering sacrifices to the leading Earth Deity of this vast region.”

“In the Zhongzhou, there is the Great Sage of Great Compassion—Gatherer of Mystical Clouds, Lingmiao Gong!”

“In past years, His Eminence would always come out to meet us, exchange a few words, and share a cup of tea. But today, he hasn’t appeared, leaving everyone wondering: could we have done something to offend the venerable Lingmiao? It’s no surprise that the martial uncles are so worried. If he doesn’t come out soon, their concerns will only grow deeper.”

“What could have happened?”

“Could it be that Lord Lingmiao is truly upset?”

“Or perhaps, Lord Lingmiao simply isn’t at home?”

At the entrance of Shuiyun Village.

Several children were playing with straight tree branches, pretending they were swords.

As they looked up, they froze in place.

They saw an elderly man dressed in a robe of sapphire-blue satin, standing hesitantly at the village’s entrance. He seemed intent on entering but was visibly uncertain. When he noticed the children, he waved them over, pulled out a few pieces of candy, and said with a warm smile: “Children, could you help an old man with a question? Do you happen to know if there’s a young Daoist priest here?”

The children exchanged glances and replied cheerfully: “Yes, there is!”

“He’s really amazing!”

“Are you here to see him, Grandpa? We can take you to him!”

The old man’s expression became slightly more serious. He replied: “See him? No, no… That won’t do. Grandpa will just wait here.”

“I’ll have to trouble you children to deliver a message for me…”

He raised a hand, gently adjusted the hairpin on his bun, and with a solemn expression, clasped his hands in respect:

“[Lingmiao] has come to pay respects.”

“To apologize.”

“I wonder if the Daoist would be willing to grant me an audience?”

PS:

The Earth Spirit Deity’s dwelling and the concept of the Three Bureaus of Houtu derive from the Daoist Canon of the Great Law, Volume Three. The names of the three bureaus have been slightly altered.