“Hah…”
Fang Qing let out a long breath and gazed up at the bright moon in the heavens, his expression somewhat dazed.
Though the moon was still that same moon, he seemed to have… transmigrated!
He truly did not know where to begin. He remembered that in his previous life, he had not run into any stroke of great fortune. It had merely seemed like an ordinary time falling asleep: close his eyes, open them again, and then he had arrived inside the body of this fifteen- or sixteen-year-old youth.
“No… this isn’t possession. It’s more like… reincarnation? Did I just break through the mystery of the womb?”
“What is this supposed to be? No grand fortune delivered to my door, so I crossed the Nine Heavens in my sleep?”
The youth’s face was blank. He rubbed the corner of his brow, and memories from the past dozen years or so surfaced in his mind, along with a mother tongue as instinctive as breathing.
The land of ancient Shu, Ba Commandery, the Ba tongue…
Natural disasters and man-made calamities, homelessness and wandering, Old Uncle…
At the thought of Old Uncle, a face crisscrossed with gullies appeared before his eyes—eyes that were dull and spiritless all day long, only occasionally revealing the unique slyness of an old farmer. And that face was truly right before him!
“Lad, you all right?”
Old Uncle, who had been leading the way up ahead, turned around, a trace of worry in his gaze.
Their hometown had met with disaster, and nine hundred ninety-nine out of every thousand clansmen were dead. This single seedling was all that remained.
“Old Uncle… I’m fine.”
Fang Qing fell silent as a stretch of memory surfaced.
The mountain hollow where his family had lived for many years, Sanshui’ao, had suddenly been struck by plague this year. He had become an orphan and was now following Old Uncle in flight from disaster.
‘If this were an ordinary ancient otherworld, then starting off as a refugee would be miserable, but it seems there’d still be the path of rebellion to take?’
‘But according to my shallow learning, the vast majority of ancient peasant uprisings were just cannon fodder paving the way for kings. They had to wait until small and medium landlords and scholars joined in before they could amount to anything…’
Fang Qing silently grumbled to himself. Fortunately, he had the memories of this body, so after answering a few lines, Old Uncle did not notice anything wrong.
The two fell silent again and, by the moonlight, arrived beside a stream.
The moonlight was hazy, and the stream gurgled softly, like a jade belt.
“Old Uncle, what are we doing?”
Fang Qing came to the water’s edge. Even in early summer, the stream water was still icy cold. Reflected faintly in it was a youth dressed in hemp clothes, his face somewhat smeared with gray and black. Only his eyes were bright and full of life, exceptionally spirited, as if they were the finishing touch painted onto a dragon.
He had gradually come to understand his situation. What he did not know was why Old Uncle had mysteriously brought him away from the main group tonight.
‘Mm, fleeing a plague and still gathering together—more importantly, no one in the group has fallen ill. That’s strange too…’
With modern knowledge of hygiene, Fang Qing was suspicious.
“What do you know?”
Old Uncle smiled smugly, though his expression soon turned a little gloomy. “We fled from a plague-stricken place. Even if we reach Tianfu City, I’m afraid they won’t take us in… We’ve got to get some travel money. With coin in hand, the heart doesn’t panic.”
Fang Qing was speechless for a moment. Reality was ten times, a hundred times darker than he had imagined.
Once, he had thought that escaping the plague-stricken area would already be great fortune. Even if he sold himself to some great household as a tenant farmer, at least he would have a mouthful of food to eat.
But he had forgotten… this was an age where even wanting to become a slave might not be possible. Even if they wanted to sell themselves, there might not be anyone willing to take them.
Besides, if there was any choice at all, who would want to kneel and become a servant?
“So…”
Fang Qing looked toward Old Uncle, his eyes lighting up.
His memories had been clouded before, and he had also suffered a serious illness, spending his days muddleheaded, so he had not paid much attention.
Now it seemed that most of the old family’s foundation might be on Old Uncle. As expected of someone old and shrew—cough, cough, well, that sort of thing…
Under the moonlight, Old Uncle carefully and solemnly took out a bundle from his bosom. After opening the bundle, there was another layer of floral cloth, tied with who knew how many knots.
Only after Old Uncle reverently unfolded it did Fang Qing see that it was a… book?
“This is… the calendar enshrined in the ancestral hall?”
Fang Qing recognized it. Although more than half of this book was missing, it had always been enshrined at the highest place in the Fang family ancestral hall, and he could see it every year during ancestral rites.
In fact, in his memories, whenever there was some major event, the clansmen would come to the ancestral hall, and the old clan chief would solemnly invite out this worn-out little booklet and flip through it…
Thinking of those faces in his memories, Fang Qing’s heart could not help but ache, and he felt somewhat desolate…
“What calendar? Pah… This is the Immortal Calendar! Immortal Calendar, understand?!”
Old Uncle spat, as if possessed by the old clan chief, and solemnly opened the “immortal object” in his hands.
Fang Qing leaned closer, rejoicing that he could actually read. This was no small matter. Literacy rates in ancient times were generally not high. If he could read, then once he entered the city, finding work as an accountant or clerk should at least keep him from starving to death.
He swept his gaze over it and saw that although the pages were old, they were very smooth, clearly treasured by each successive owner.
And on the title page, there was a line of neat and tidy characters:
“The abundance and famine of the years, the circulation of spiritual atmosphere, the transformations of yin and yang—these are all but trifling achievements of the Year Wardens…”
“Year Wardens?”
Fang Qing’s heart stirred. Once, being in the midst of it, he had not felt there was anything special. But looking at it now, he felt that every word and every sentence seemed to carry a great terror, revealing some secret of the world.
The night was quiet. There was only the rustling sound of Old Uncle turning pages.
“Found it!”
Suddenly, his expression brightened, and he pointed to a page. “Lad, look here… The clan chief was my second father. Back then, I saw him mark this page with my own eyes, afraid he’d forget!”
Old Uncle’s tone was somewhat proud. “Our Fang family was able to occupy Sanshui’ao because we had a foundation!”
Fang Qing half-understood. The clan did indeed seem relatively well-off. They could actually let children of the right age, such as himself, attend elementary schooling and learn characters. That investment was no small thing. Old farmers who spent their days facing the yellow earth with their backs to the sky definitely could not support that on a few mu of poor fields alone. So there had been other income?
‘Most likely some craft passed down to men and not women… and it was actually recorded in a book? Old Uncle wants to use it to make money?’
‘Mm, as expected, it really is a clan foundation…’
Fang Qing swept his gaze over it and read aloud, “Late Antiquity, year eight thousand four hundred and twelve, Kangjin presides over the year. Fifth month, fourteenth day. Favorable for dragons and snakes. Suitable for travel, breakthroughs, qi gathering… What?”
He was startled. This page was written in the format of a calendar, and he recognized all the characters, but why did he somewhat fail to understand them when they were put together?
“Could it be… cultivation? Are there really immortals in this world?”
Fang Qing’s heart burned with excitement.
“Don’t look at those words. They’re from a hundred years ago. Look at what later generations added!”
Old Uncle reminded him.
Fang Qing nodded. Sure enough, in the gaps between the writing on this page, he saw a few more lines of ink: “…Take ancient blades and swords. On the night of the full moon, immerse them in stream water and recite the ‘seven-character secret incantation’ to obtain one wisp of ‘moonflow light’… A hundred wisps make one thread, a hundred threads make one path…”
“That’s right, that’s right. This is our Fang family’s secretly transmitted qi-gathering formula. This qi-gathering formula is only passed down to the clan chief. If not for his whole family dying out from the plague, it wouldn’t be our turn.”
Old Uncle’s delight showed on his face. “Our old Fang family’s ancestors also had immortal fate. A hundred years ago, they received a qi-gathering method taught by an immortal. Every year, by offering up a few blades and swords containing ‘moonflow light,’ the rewards we received were incomparably generous. Unfortunately, I didn’t know that seven-character secret… And it only works on this one day.”
He sighed and took from his waist the ring-pommeled saber that had not left his side during this period, about to immerse it in the stream.
“So… this is a calendar from a hundred years ago? It expired a hundred years back, big brother!”
An absurd feeling rose in Fang Qing’s heart. “Can it still work?”
“What big brother? I’m your Old Uncle!” Old Uncle glared. “Besides, what’s a hundred years? The great sun rises in the east and sets in the west. The twelve Year Wardens govern the months. These things have been so since ancient times, and won’t change even after a thousand, ten thousand years… The old clan chief did this on this very day every year. It can’t be wrong!”
As he recited the true words and incantation, he reverently immersed the saber into the stream.
Fang Qing did not know whether it was an illusion, but he seemed to see strands of flowing light gathering on the blade, like the meridians of a person.
…
“Haha… It worked.”
Who knew how much time had passed. Just as Fang Qing’s feet were starting to ache, he saw Old Uncle raise the rust-mottled ancient saber in his hand, his face full of joy. “Take this to the Luo family, and it’ll sell for at least eight or ten taels…”
“That’s one wisp of moonflow light gathered already? Why not gather more? Or even simply make up a hundred wisps and refine them into one thread, or even ten thousand wisps into a path?”
Fang Qing was somewhat surprised.
“Can’t be done. This qi gathering consumes earth qi and spiritual resonance… Once it’s done, the place won’t recover without a year or so.”
Old Uncle shook his head. “We once occupied Sanshui’ao, and with three streams, we could only produce three pieces a year… Not to mention gathering enough for one thread, one path?”
He looked at Fang Qing, then sneered and handed the saber over. “Everyone knows immortals cultivate by ingesting qi, but if you don’t have magic power… even if I put it right in front of you, do you know how to ‘merge qi’? Even if it was finally merged into one path of ‘true qi,’ could you gather it?”
“No magic power? Then one can’t merge qi? Old Uncle, tell me more about immortals. Are there really immortals?” Even more doubts arose in Fang Qing’s heart. At the same time, he secretly sighed with emotion. Old Uncle truly lived up to the rumors that he had roamed outside before; he was experienced and knowledgeable.
“Of course there are. I even know that the first realm of immortals is called ‘qi ingestion’!” Old Uncle smiled proudly, then became somewhat gloomy. “Lad, listen to one word of advice from me. Immortal fate is hard to seek… Although our family has an ancestral qi-gathering method, without an immortal taking action, it will forever be impossible to merge it into a true path of ‘qi’ and use that to step into the qi ingestion realm… The implements we obtain each year can only be sold off, that’s all.”
“In other words… if one wants to cultivate, one must eat qi, but true ‘qi’ can only be finished and processed by cultivators?”
Fang Qing guessed silently. “If one wants to step over the threshold of cultivation, leaving aside whether there are any aptitude requirements and not even mentioning cultivation methods, the most important ‘one path of true qi’ alone is enough to block countless people…”
He was somewhat speechless. “Without magic power, one can’t merge true ‘qi’; without qi, one can’t step into cultivation and cultivate magic power… Isn’t this a self-cultivation death loop?”
According to his experience with novels from his previous life, immortal cultivation should involve a cultivation method widely circulated, and as long as one had spiritual roots, one could cultivate. Why was it so troublesome? Why had it turned into a Möbius strip problem of whether the chicken or the egg came first?
Fang Qing shook his head and decided not to think about these things for now. “Then did our Fang family ancestor become an immortal?”
“Of course… not.”
Old Uncle shook his head. “That ancestor is said to have lived for two jiazi and died peacefully of old age. He was not a cultivator either…”
“Looking at it this way, what my family obtained can’t even be called immortal fate. At most, we were beasts of burden under immortals…”
Fang Qing was speechless. Wasn’t this just like modern-day wage slaves? Eating grass and producing milk.
“You can’t say it like that either…”
Old Uncle also looked somewhat conflicted. “Sigh… At least our family obtained a source of income. Every year, there was no small amount coming in…”
Fang Qing touched the hard object at his chest, and his heart grew somewhat heated. “I must set foot on the path of cultivation, see the higher scenery of this world, and even… take a look at the secret of the Year Wardens!”
Now that he had finally arrived in a supernatural world, how could he possibly not pursue long life and enduring vision?
There was no doubt that if the qi ingestion realm was only the threshold, then the twelve Year Wardens had definitely already become “immortals.” Only then could they flourish without decline!
Fang Qing immediately felt as if he had gained a lofty goal.
“Kangjin? The title of one who presides over the year?”
He was still only an ordinary mortal, yet he now knew the name of a mighty figure of the immortal path, even if it was only an epithet.
But thinking about it, it somehow made sense.
After all, in his previous life, he could not name many governors of Eagle Country, but he definitely knew who the president of Eagle Country was. Converted over, it was the same.
Just then, a sudden change occurred!
“Here!”
Along with a shout, a great many scattered footsteps rapidly drew near.
“Not good, it’s that mangy dog Ma Laosan!”
Old Uncle’s expression changed. “Damn that old bastard, he’s been keeping his eyes on your old man all along!”
He drew his saber and turned back, taking a big stride forward. “We’re outnumbered. Run separately!”
A new year, a new beginning. Wishing all readers smooth sailing and that all your wishes come true!