Chapter 1
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The Way of Taiping
“Seven days into spring, two years since leaving home. Man returns after the wild geese, thoughts emerge before the flowers bloom.”
At the Taiping Daochang (Taiping Temple) in Yongqiu, Zhou Yi reclined on a bamboo bed, his face covered by an ancient book titled in large characters: “Laozi Xiang’er Commentary.”
The scripture hid his face, so others couldn’t see the vexation he felt.
Beside the bamboo bed was a low table, about five feet long, with a Hun Yuan scarf (a type of Taoist headwear) in the middle, two stacks of talismans, and a young Daoist acolyte on each end, a boy and a girl, both about twelve or thirteen.
They held a bamboo slip, studying the disaster-averting talismans drawn in vermillion.
The girl tilted her head, glancing at Zhou Yi, and exclaimed admiringly:
“Master’s talisman water is truly miraculous! Five days ago, Senior Brother was like a living corpse, but now he’s full of life.”
“It must be Master’s profound Daoist magic,” the boy said, looking up with a mysterious expression.
“That night, I was awakened by the sound of chains. I saw the candlelight flickering in Senior Brother’s room, and two dark shadows on the window paper. I thought the Ox-Head and Horse-Face demons from the underworld had come to seize him. Luckily, Master took out the True Form Mirror of the Five Peaks, communing with the Yin and Yang realms. He shone it for a full hour, finally retrieving Senior Brother’s soul, and that’s when he woke up.”
“Ouch~! Ouch~!”
The two kids clutched their heads, yelping in pain. Zhou Yi, holding the Laozi Xiang’er Commentary, had smacked them left and right.
“You’re not focusing on your lessons, and still talking about communing with Yin and Yang? Does Master even have that kind of ability?”
Yan Qiu rubbed his forehead and complained, “There are many spiritual mediums skilled in witchcraft in the martial arts world, like the Tongtian Godmother of the He-Yi Sect in Bashu. She can communicate with Yin and Yang. Xia Shu, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” the little girl, Xia Shu, cowered. “But the Tongtian Godmother is a revered senior of the He-Yi Sect. Calling her a ‘spiritual medium hag’ is too disrespectful. Besides, Senior Brother was poisoned, so it was naturally the talisman water that cured the poison.”
“…”
Zhou Yi’s gloomy mood lightened a bit at these two innocent kids, and he chuckled softly.
They argued for a while, and seeing that their Senior Brother ignored them, they leaned closer again.
Xia Shu cupped her chubby cheeks, her eyes full of curiosity: “Senior Brother has changed so much since recovering from his serious illness. Lately, he’s been feeling melancholic and always composing poems.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yan Qiu mimicked Zhou Yi, shaking his head and chanting, “What ‘no trace of movement in the house, the courtyard grass grows verdant. Green moss clings to empty walls, spiders web the four rooms.'”
“I went to ask Master about it, wondering if Senior Brother meant we should clean the Daochang, remove the cobwebs and moss. Master called me foolish and replied with something like, ‘Moved by things, much is held within, deep sorrow knots the heart.'”
Yan Qiu was simpler and didn’t understand its meaning.
“He’s got something on his mind,” Xia Shu, however, was sharper and pressed, “Was what Senior Brother just recited a new composition?”
“No.”
Zhou Yi shook his head. After transmigrating, he felt his mind had become sharper, but it always throbbed faintly. He rubbed his forehead. “That was written by Xue Daoheng from Hedong. I just happened to hear it.”
The two young ones whispered the name, frowning in thought. It felt familiar, yet they couldn’t quite recall it clearly—that kind of feeling was most irritating.
Just as they were about to ask, a faint, aged voice drifted into the small courtyard.
“What a pity for Xue Daoheng. He couldn’t see through Yang Guang’s ambition and stubbornness. His ‘Eulogy for Emperor Gaozu Wen’ displeased him, and despite all his talent, he couldn’t escape his fate.”
An old Daoist in a grayish-white robe slowly emerged from around the moon gate. His face was thin, his cheekbones slightly prominent, and his eyebrows were already white, long wisps hanging to the corners of his eyes. He stroked his beard as he approached, exuding the demeanor of a Daoist master.
This old Daoist was the Master of the Taiping Dao, with the Daoist name Jue Wuzi.
“Master.”
Zhou Yi, Xia Shu, and Yan Qiu, the three true disciples of the Taiping Sect, respectfully saluted.
The two young acolytes immediately adjusted their caps and robes, standing with hands at their sides, shedding their previous liveliness. The kind and benevolent Jue Wuzi held great authority for them.
“Go guard the altar and attend to the incense seekers.”
“Yes,” Xia Shu and Yan Qiu promptly agreed.
After they left, the old Daoist led Zhou Yi into a quiet side room and carefully took his wrist to check his pulse. After a short while, his closed eyes opened.
“Your pulse is calm; there are no major issues.”
Jue Wuzi let out a huge sigh of relief. He dropped his dignified posture, shedding his immortal-like appearance to become like an ordinary old man. Zhou Yi knew his Master’s background and wasn’t surprised at all.
The Taiping Daochang was located on the western outskirts of Yongqiu, perched on an isolated hill. Including the altar and drum tower, it wasn’t more than seven or eight mu. Besides Jue Wuzi and the three true disciples, there were also some uninitiated disciples, merely believers who had received Jue Wuzi’s Taiping talismans and were one step away from formally joining the sect. The rest were helpers and laborers.
Jue Wuzi used talismans to heal illnesses and spread benevolent teachings to bring about “Great Peace” (Taiping). He gained some renown among the common people, and later, through word of mouth and hearsay, he gradually became known as a famous master in Yongqiu within the martial arts world. With this reputation, petty criminals didn’t dare to offend, which was quite a perk. Although some martial artists came to seek him out, he would just bluff his way through it. This went on and on, leading to its current state.
However…
Zhou Yi looked at Jue Wuzi and voiced his concern: “Master, the four seas are boiling over right now; there’s no longer a world of peace. You know, during the reign of Emperor Ling of Han, the Great Sage Teacher founded the Taiping Sect and established thirty-six divisions to wage war across the land. With history as our guide, and given that the imperial court is now mobilizing troops to suppress bandits, if we continue to use the name ‘Taiping Dao,’ I’m afraid…
…I’m afraid Zhang Xutuo will come all the way from Changbai Mountain to our Fuzi Mountain.”
He gestured towards the direction of the ritual altar. Master and disciple looked up. Above the Taiping Daochang’s altar, thick smoke billowed, and the incense was incredibly strong. The more chaotic the world became, the stronger the Taiping Dao’s incense burned.
Jue Wuzi’s expression suddenly darkened, and he couldn’t help but curse: “Yang Guang, that incompetent ruler!”
“Even if he stayed put in the Ziwei Palace, ignored state affairs, and just waited to die, the world wouldn’t be this chaotic.”
Zhou Yi blinked. What could you do when Emperor Guang wanted to micro-manage everything?
“It’s fate and destiny…”
Hearing his soft sigh, Zhou Yi secretly felt relieved. It seems Master listened to his advice. He couldn’t keep carrying the name ‘Taiping Dao’ anymore.
However…
The old Daoist’s eyes suddenly gleamed, and he stroked his beard, proclaiming loudly:
“The Blue Heaven is dead; the Yellow Heaven shall rise. The year is Jiazi; the world will be auspicious.”
These sixteen characters echoed with deafening clarity. If not for someone in the know, in these chaotic times, one might truly be unsure of his true intentions.
Zhou Yi was dumbfounded. Was his Master also itching to join the fray?
“Are you going to emulate the Zhi Shilang?”
“Not me, your Master, but you.”
“Me?”
Zhou Yi pointed to himself, immediately shaking his head like a rattle drum. “Please don’t joke, Master. Your disciple is not yet of age and still wishes to live a few more years.”
Five days ago, as an art student without a future, he received the news of failing his civil service exam again. Heartbroken, he had some drinks. When he woke up, he was disoriented.
Where did I end up?
A little inquiry revealed he was in the chaotic Tang Dynasty, a world filled with countless masters and powerful figures. If he raised the banner of the Taiping Dao in rebellion, wouldn’t he have to contend for both Daoist orthodoxy and the world?
What would he rely on to contend?
Only the ‘Blue Heaven is dead’ and other sixteen-character verbal spells.
Jue Wuzi had expected this reaction. “You were poisoned so deeply that you should have died. It’s a miracle that you turned from death to life. Moreover, you are my disciple of the Taiping Sect. Facing this chaotic era, isn’t it Heaven’s decree?”
Zhou Yi let it go in one ear and out the other; he absolutely didn’t believe his Master’s nonsense.
Seeing that he couldn’t be swayed, the old Daoist suddenly smiled: “Your Master founded the Taiping Daochang not to imitate the Great Sage Teacher, but it truly has a lineage and inheritance.”
Zhou Yi said “Oh,” and became a little interested.
Jue Wuzi explained: “This sect treats people with talisman water as a cover. The medicine the patients drink all comes from the Taiping Elixir Formula. Your Master obtained this formula, painstakingly researched it, and gained medical expertise. Out of gratitude for this teaching, I established the sect. Besides the Taiping Elixir Formula, there is another scroll recording profound martial arts insights.”
“This method descends from Laozi’s Daodejing, the ancestor of Daoism, and synthesizes the great Daoist achievements of the Han dynasties. Its origin lies in Huang-Lao (Yellow Emperor and Laozi’s Daoism), and its methods are bestowed by Heaven and man. No ordinary martial art can compare.”
The old Daoist finished speaking, calmly stroking his beard, watching his disciple’s reaction.
Hearing this, Zhou Yi couldn’t help but hold his breath.
‘So, Master’s Taiping Dao isn’t a scam, but rather inherited from the Southern Daoist sects after the Yellow Turban Rebellion’s demise. Then this martial art is practically screaming its name… It must be the Yellow Heaven Great Law!! This is no less than the Four Great Books!’
Jue Wuzi smiled and asked, “Do you want to learn it?”
Zhou Yi’s thoughts raced, and his attitude completely changed. He immediately accommodated his Master’s wishes, reciting with a grand air: “Before Changbai Mountain, the Zhi Shilang, clad purely in red brocade undergarments…”
“Since Master possesses this wondrous method, what is there to fear? The Zhi Shilang established the Changbai Mountain Holy Land; we will establish a Fuzi Mountain Holy Land. The incompetent ruler is unkind; this chaotic world awaits peace. Master, let’s rebel! Let’s rebel!”
– Mochinuna.
