“Woof woof woof!”
“Chitter chitter chitter chitter!”
…
The sound of barking and monkey screeches interwove, echoing across Dazhu Peak of Qingyun Mountain and shattering the tranquility. Zhang Xiaofan charged out of the kitchen door, clutching that black firestick, roaring in fury, “Dead dog! Dead monkey! If you’ve got guts, don’t run!”
The monkey, Xiao Hui, swooshed onto the yellow dog Da Huang’s back. Da Huang, who had long been poised to run, sprang away on all four legs. Zhang Xiaofan couldn’t catch up, and watched helplessly as Xiao Hui made a face and placed a fragrant meat bone into Da Huang’s mouth. Da Huang was so excited that his doggy face beamed with joy; if not for his two rows of teeth clamping down on the meat bone, he probably would have smiled so wide his dog teeth fell out.
“Huh!”
Zhang Xiaofan’s face fell with frustration as he walked back to the kitchen, indignant. Since the year he turned fourteen and took charge of the kitchen, his culinary skills had amazed everyone. And Da Huang, with his “enlightened old dog” cultivation, couldn’t help but covet the delicacies in Zhang Xiaofan’s hands—especially the meat bones Zhang Xiaofan used for stewing soup, aromatic and savory, a feast Da Huang dreamed of.
However, Zhang Xiaofan stewed soup for people to drink. Although Da Huang was advanced in “age” (raised by Tian Buyi since puppyhood) and had seniority, he didn’t receive the treatment he deserved, often drooling with desire but unable to obtain any. It wasn’t until he became familiar with the monkey, Xiao Hui, that the scene described above would frequently play out on Dazhu Peak. It had continued for two years now. No matter how secretly Zhang Xiaofan hid the meat bones, as long as Da Huang’s nose combined with Xiao Hui’s agility, this battle over meat bones usually ended in Zhang Xiaofan’s defeat.
Two years passed in a hurry—actually, it was only a year and a half. Zhang Xiaofan had grown into a sixteen-year-old youth, taller now, already half a head higher than his martial sister, Tian Ling’er. During this time, because of Tian Buyi’s strict orders, all disciples on Dazhu Peak had confined themselves to bitter cultivation. Apart from the sixth disciple, Du Bishu, who had gone down the mountain to travel, only Zhang Xiaofan, the cook, was most idle.
For two years, unnoticed by anyone, Zhang Xiaofan had cultivated alone. What he himself couldn’t believe was that according to the formulas taught to him by his senior brother, Song Daren, he had seemingly completed the second layer of the Jade Pure Realm—Refining Qi—in just one year.
He had doubts in his heart, but ultimately didn’t ask Tian Buyi. Song Daren, Tian Ling’er, and the others had been focused on closed-door cultivation and had no time for other matters. Du Bishu, who was closest to him, had gone down the mountain. So he kept this question hidden in his heart. But then a great difficulty was placed before him: Tian Ling’er had privately given him the formulas for the third layer. He knew very well that this was a grave violation of sect rules. Yet, whenever night deepened and he stood alone in the small courtyard gazing up at the night sky, he would remember a sentence:
No matter how much you cultivate, you’ll never match Senior Brother Qi Hao!
Ten nights later, he began to cultivate the formulas of the third layer!
In the Taiji Xuanqing Dao, the first to third layers of the Jade Pure Realm were the foundation of all arts, and the difficulty gradually deepened. Unlike the first two layers, “Channeling Qi” and “Refining Qi,” the formula of the third layer, “Primal Qi,” already emphasized cultivating the Taiji Primal Qi. The formula said: “The Taiji Primal Qi contains three in one. Ji is the center; Yuan is the beginning, moving through the twelve hours… This is the union of yin and yang virtue, qi converging at the zi hour, the transformation and birth of the myriad things.”
When disciples of the Qingyun Sect cultivated to this realm, they would clearly display a watershed moment; the quality of their aptitude was obvious at a glance. Clever people often advanced like splitting bamboo, breaking through in one go to the higher “Object Driving” realm, from then on laying a solid foundation for cultivating the Immortal Dao. Slightly inferior disciples often stagnated, and it was not uncommon for them to waste their entire lives.
It had been five years since Zhang Xiaofan entered the sect. Naturally, he had heard these things countless times in conversations with his senior brothers. But very obviously, all his senior brothers had classified him in the “slightly inferior” category.
He walked back into the kitchen, came to the stove, filled it with water, then added more firewood to the firebox, preparing to boil some water. The bright yellow flames flourished anew. Zhang Xiaofan held that pitiful black “firestick” he had used for two years, prodding the firewood in the stove. Once the fire burned steadily, his gaze slowly fell upon the firestick in his hand.
But this wasn’t because he had discovered something; it was a very ordinary thing—he was in a daze.
The entirely deep-black firestick, apart from the round bead at its tip, was only about a foot long. The only somewhat abnormal thing was that beneath its black surface, faint bloodline-like veins could be seen, especially obvious at the junction between the short rod and the round bead. Sometimes it almost made people feel as if these two things had been fused together with human blood.
Zhang Xiaofan’s entire body suddenly shuddered. The thought of fusing with human blood that had flashed through his mind just now disgusted even himself. These past years, he had gradually forgotten that journey to the secluded valley back then. Only occasionally, in the depths of night when dreams returned, would he suddenly dream of that strange experience, waking up drenched in sweat.
At that time, he had felt so alone, facing unknown ferocity by himself, facing dark death by himself. Whenever this happened, he always found it hard to suppress his inexplicable emotional agitation. With a hint of fanatical impulse, he couldn’t help but feel an urge to kill. Furthermore, in the darkness, he recalled again the abnormal fanaticism in Monk Puzhi’s eyes when he looked at him beside that shattered grass temple so many years ago!
Zhang Xiaofan had no idea why he would have such strange feelings. But fortunately, he still had one method to calm his frightened heart: the Great Brahma Prajna!
This supreme Buddhist dharma formula had the marvelous effect of suppressing evil spirits and cleansing the mind. Having cultivated it for five years, its greatest use was to suppress the strange emotions that had inexorably appeared these past two years.
“Smack!”
Pain shot through Zhang Xiaofan’s head as something fell to the ground—it was a pinecone. Zhang Xiaofan’s anger flared. He turned around furiously: “Dead monkey, don’t let me catch you… Huh, you’re… Ah! Sixth Senior Brother!”
Zhang Xiaofan leaped up. Standing in the doorway was a man of medium build with a shrewd face and a beaming smile, a small bundle on his back—who else could it be but the long-unseen sixth disciple, Du Bishu?
Du Bishu sized Zhang Xiaofan up from head to toe, clicking his tongue in admiration. “Impressive. In just a few years, you brat have grown as tall as me.”
Zhang Xiaofan quickly walked up, gripping Du Bishu’s shoulders tightly, smiling. “Sixth Senior Brother, why were you gone so long? We all missed you very much.”
Du Bishu smiled. “Didn’t I come back?”
Zhang Xiaofan immediately asked, “Do Master and Master’s wife know you’re back?”
Du Bishu said, “No, I just got back. I saw smoke coming from the kitchen here, so I came to take a look first. Hehe, I knew you would be working here. We haven’t seen each other for years; did you miss me?”
Zhang Xiaofan’s heart was glad, and he nodded repeatedly. Du Bishu patted his head, then suddenly whispered, “Come, accompany me to see Master.”
Zhang Xiaofan was stunned. “Why do you want me to accompany you?”
Du Bishu made a bitter face. “Master let me go down the mountain back then, and we agreed on one year as the limit. But I played around for… uh, no, I spent half a year more searching before I found good materials to refine a magical treasure. I’m afraid Master will scold me. Come with me.”
Zhang Xiaofan glared at him. “And you still said you came to see me first. By the way, Sixth Senior Brother, what kind of magical treasure did you refine?”
Du Bishu laughed drily. “Hehe, of course I came to see you first, Little Junior Brother. Let’s go, let’s go.” Saying this, he pulled Zhang Xiaofan along.
A moment later, Da Huang, who was hiding in some corner gnawing on a meat bone, and Xiao Hui, who was leaning against his back catching fleas, simultaneously heard a roar come from the direction of Shoujing Hall: “Unworthy person! You’re infuriating me!”
At dinner time, the people of Dazhu Peak gathered for the first time in two years, sitting around one table to eat. After everyone was seated, Tian Buyi still had an angry look on his face. After greeting Du Bishu, the disciples couldn’t help but quietly ask him, “Old Sixth, why did Master get so angry the moment he saw you?”
Du Bishu’s face was awkward, and he hemmed and hawed, looking left and right. Zhang Xiaofan, sitting beside him, had a face full of smiles but didn’t dare laugh out, looking rather strange.
At this moment, Tian Ling’er, sitting opposite, finally couldn’t hold back and was the first to ask Tian Buyi, “Dad, Sixth Senior Brother returned with such difficulty; why are you still so angry?”
Du Bishu secretly raised his eyes to look at Tian Buyi. Tian Buyi glared at him, frightening Du Bishu into hurriedly lowering his head. Tian Buyi snorted. “Old Sixth, take out your own magical treasure and show everyone.”
Du Bishu opened his mouth but mumbled, unable to speak. He raised his eyes to look at his master’s wife, Su Ru, but saw Su Ru smile and say, “Bishu, just take it out and show everyone. Let everyone know why your Master is so angry?”
Du Bishu saw he couldn’t delay any longer. Reluctantly, he took his small bundle, shook it a couple of times, took out a few items from inside, and placed them on the table.
Not a single person blinked; they stared fixedly, afraid of missing anything. In the dining hall, it was deathly quiet for a moment. On the dinner table were placed three things that seemed to be made of some hard wood, about half a fist in size, six-sided cubes, entirely white, with various dots carved on top—they were three dice.
Everyone was dumbstruck and speechless. After a moment, they burst into uproarious laughter.
Du Bishu’s face was thoroughly red. Tian Buyi looked at him, his face full of anger, and roared, “Rotten wood cannot be carved!”
But at this time Su Ru shook her head with a smile. “Forget it, this isn’t a big deal. Dice are dice. Anyway, this magical treasure is for his own use.”
Tian Buyi glared at his disciple, then said to Su Ru, “How do you know he won’t use this to cheat?”
Du Bishu was startled and hurriedly said, “Master, Master’s wife, this disciple absolutely wouldn’t dare to do such vile and shameless things. It’s just that before the New Year, I found a thousand-year-old Three-Pearl Tree by the Chishui River in the south, extremely spiritual. I took its essence and carved these three dice. It was completely a whim; I absolutely didn’t think of anything else…”
Tian Buyi’s anger still didn’t cease. “You’re happy? Hmph, if you had cultivated anything else, that would have been fine. But now you’ve refined a set of gambling tools. When the Seven Peaks Martial Tournament comes in a month and you appear on stage like this, will I still have any face left?”
Du Bishu didn’t dare speak again. Su Ru shook her head and said in a low voice, “Buyi, this is something he likes himself; don’t force him. Do you still remember Senior Brother Wan…”
Tian Buyi suddenly trembled. He turned his head to look at Su Ru. Su Ru let out a light sigh and said to Du Bishu, “Bishu, you know that your Master and I have never forced you to cultivate immortal swords like the senior and junior brothers of the other peaks. But magical treasures often matter greatly, so you must be careful in your conduct.”
Du Bishu secretly glanced at Tian Buyi and saw his master’s displeased face, currently sulking. How could he dare say more? He repeatedly nodded. “Yes, yes.”
Su Ru looked at her husband again, then said to everyone, “Time passes so quickly. Next month is the great Seven Peaks Martial Tournament. At that time, we will go together to Tongtian Peak, where the main gate is. Prepare early.” Speaking to here, her beautiful and gentle face suddenly became strict, and she said sharply, “This time, don’t disappoint your Master and me again. Do you understand?”
The disciples’ hearts skipped a beat, and they said in unison, “Yes!”
“M-Master’s wife.” Amid the loud responses of the crowd, an uncoordinated, weak voice emerged. Su Ru looked over and saw it was the youngest, seventh disciple Zhang Xiaofan. She frowned. “What is it, Xiaofan?”
Zhang Xiaofan carefully said, “Then does what you just said mean I’m going too?”
Su Ru was startled. She glanced at Tian Buyi, and a smile floated onto her face. “Yes, aren’t you also a disciple of Dazhu Peak?”
Zhang Xiaofan was overjoyed. He cheered and jumped up, high-fiving Du Bishu beside him to celebrate, completely ignoring Tian Buyi who was muttering coldly from afar: “There are nine slots anyway. Even if you give one to an idiot, it’s still a waste of one. Might as well use it since it’s there.”
***
Night fell. When Zhang Xiaofan returned to his room, he saw Da Huang and Xiao Hui had already gone to rest on his bed. Since a year and a half ago, because Da Huang was close to Xiao Hui, he had moved into Zhang Xiaofan’s room to sleep. At first, this had startled Tian Buyi, who couldn’t find his beloved dog anywhere. When he finally learned the reason, he snorted and walked away without saying anything. Zhang Xiaofan saw his master didn’t blame him, so he didn’t chase Da Huang out (actually, he couldn’t. Da Huang occupied half the bed, Xiao Hui occupied half of what remained, so one could imagine the room owner’s mood).
But after a long time, perhaps having grown used to the crowding or having become familiar with them, Zhang Xiaofan no longer complained about Da Huang and Xiao Hui sleeping with him. This night, he was in an extremely good mood. He walked into the room and sat by the table. His eyes glanced over and saw Da Huang lying lazily, while Xiao Hui had somehow gone to the kitchen again and stolen that black firestick, rubbing it against Da Huang’s body.
His heart stirred; he faintly felt that Xiao Hui seemed very interested in this firestick. But he wasn’t in the mood to think about that right now. His heart was completely filled with the joy of his master unexpectedly allowing him to participate in the Seven Peaks Martial Tournament.
If Da Huang and Xiao Hui looked at Zhang Xiaofan at this moment, they would see a human with gleaming eyes. Zhang Xiaofan’s eyes looked at this monkey and dog, but his mouth seemed to be speaking to the air: “Look, I actually have the chance to participate in the Seven Peaks Martial Tournament. That’s so great. Master is truly magnanimous. Even though I’m stupid, he’s still taking me to broaden my horizons. Uh, maybe I’ll be able to see Jingyu then.”
Speaking to this point, he seemed to recall something and muttered to himself in a low voice, “But if I really go on stage to compete, I’m afraid I’ll bring shame to Master. Forget it, whatever happens, happens. Da Huang, Xiao Hui, don’t you think so?”
“Chitter chitter chitter chitter!”
Zhang Xiaofan raised his eyes to look. He saw Xiao Hui’s mind was entirely on Da Huang’s fur, carefully catching fleas, only calling out a few times to perfunctorily respond to him. As for Da Huang, he was even more direct—both dog ears drooped down, not looking at him at all.
“Dead dog!” Zhang Xiaofan cursed indignantly. Suddenly, darkness flashed before his eyes—it was Xiao Hui throwing the firestick in his hand at him. He was startled and hurriedly dodged. The firestick hit the table, bounced twice, and fell to the ground.
“Chitter chitter chitter chitter! Woof woof woof!” This time, the voices of the yellow dog Da Huang and the monkey Xiao Hui became a symphony. Zhang Xiaofan made a face at those two animals, sat down resentfully, and somehow, the heroic figure of Qi Hao on Dazhu Peak two years ago suddenly appeared in his mind.
“Ice condensing into a wall!” Zhang Xiaofan muttered in a low voice. Before he cultivated, it was fine, but these days as his cultivation gradually deepened, he deeply experienced even more the hardship and unattainability of reaching Qi Hao’s realm.
He thought of that night again—Tian Ling’er beside the lamplight in this room, those gentle yet scorching eyes!
His heart felt as if pierced by a sharp needle at that moment.
The firestick on the ground lay there quietly. Nearby came the playful noises of the monkey and the yellow dog. Zhang Xiaofan suddenly felt that he and this firestick were so alike. Even the firestick lying on the ground seemed, in his eyes, to carry a bit of loneliness.
“Alas,” he sighed, trying to imagine himself reaching that kind of realm. Then, in a completely relaxed posture, with absolutely no care, for the first time in his life he made the “Object Driving” gesture that Qingyun Sect disciples had done countless times: he beckoned to the firestick on the ground.
That moment seemed to last forever.
Zhang Xiaofan, very normally, without even a trace of sadness, prepared to accept his failure as a matter of course. Then, he saw the firestick on the ground move.
It moved so lightly, so slightly, as if awakening from a long slumber—moved!