The white crane rode the wind and departed, carrying away the misunderstanding that Qin Xuan delighted in reading erotic storyteller’s tales, as well as several jars of Qin Xuan’s wine.
“The Record of Spirit Birds says: ‘Crane eyes hold silver, frost in the pupils; they can observe the flow of qi and discern minute changes.’”
“This time, however, my eyesight proved sharper.”
The courtyard held only him. Qin Xuan was speaking to the green pine.
The morning breeze brushed past, and the jade-green pine needles rustled softly, as if answering him.
Qin Xuan smiled. “Little Pine, it seems you agree too.”
The pine in the small courtyard could not speak, of course, but over the past six years Qin Xuan had said many things to it.
It listened silently, never complaining.
Was a patient listener not a friend?
Sunlight leaked through the needles and broke into fragments on the ancient book in his hand.
This book was, in fact, a keepsake from his mother.
Qin Xuan’s mother had originally been a daughter of Second Master Lin of Laidu Commandery. The Lin family was a cultivation family, but she had no spirit root and could not cultivate.
While out enjoying the scenery one day, she happened to meet a scholar—the man who would become Qin Xuan’s father.
Later they fell in love, and despite Second Master Lin’s opposition, she married him and moved to Pingyuan Commandery.
Six years ago, the black catfish great demon of Lan River stirred up waves and caused chaos; Qin Xuan’s entire household suffered calamity and fell into the demon’s maw. Li Yanshen, a Qi Refining cultivator of Guanjiang Mountain, was passing by Lan River and saved him.
Later, discovering that Qin Xuan had the aptitude for cultivation, Li Yanshen brought him to Yuansong Temple. There, Qin Xuan bowed at the mountain to cultivate together with Zhao Huaimin, Li Yanshen’s cousin’s nephew.
The temple head, Old Daoist Wu, was on close terms with Li Yanshen, and naturally looked after Qin Xuan a little more.
Because of this, those unaware of the inside story assumed he had a deep connection with the temple head, and over time he unexpectedly became a prominent figure among the core disciples.
On top of his hard work in cultivation, apart from his duties at the Records Hall, he largely kept his distance from worldly affairs.
Many disciples found him mysterious; after all, quiet seclusion and pure cultivation were exactly the conduct of a lofty adept.
But Qin Xuan knew his own heart clearly: he was only an ordinary Qi Refining cultivator whose diligence surpassed his natural talent.
Never mind the vast path of immortality; even the black catfish great demon who bore him a grudge was far beyond his reach.
Yet the ways of the world are hard to predict.
One evening two months ago, like a person lost for a long time who suddenly found his direction...
Take the ancient book in his hand as an example. In the past, his discernment had been too weak, and he had taken it for nothing more than an idle fancy. Who would have guessed that on the surface it was a storyteller’s tale, yet within it was hidden a sword art.
“The Nine Provinces world is vast beyond measure. Divine sects, demon sects, Daoist courts, demon courts, and myriad methods and teachings stand side by side. I truly cannot guess which senior had such a whimsical interest.”
Qin Xuan sighed with admiration and put Spring Letters, Autumn Post into his hundred-treasure pouch.
This sword art had no written records; it was hidden between the lines and words of the tale, seeming intent yet not intent, seeming form yet not form, relying entirely on comprehension.
Truly, true methods bear no words and leave no ink.
Such a sword art far surpassed any of the texts he had read in the Scripture Pavilion; to master it would likely require enormous effort.
He closed the courtyard gate and turned to walk inside.
Three wooden rooms stood on the north side, with black tiles and white walls, nothing remarkable.
However, within Yuansong Temple, having an independent courtyard was enough to show one’s status.
It was only because...
Ordinary disciples all lived in the dormitories halfway up the mountain.
Passing through the main room, he climbed the stairs and reached the second-floor attic, where a pearwood desk stood by the window.
Several scrolls on scripture, medicine, and miscellaneous learning were scattered across it, such as The Nature of Wintergrass, Daoist Wang’s Travels in the Central Provinces, Waterways of the Great Yan Dynasty, Huachi Tongqi, and Annotated Remains of Ancient Script.
At the corner of the desk sat a celadon wine pot, its glaze warm and smooth, reflecting the increasingly bright daylight from outside.
Beside it was a bamboo chair, its armrests of bamboo bark worn smooth and gleaming.
In the past, when moved by feeling, Qin Xuan would sit here and quietly watch the courtyard breeze stir the pine needles, often staying for a full two hours.
Across from the bamboo chair was a row of wooden shelves. Bathed in the morning sun, they gave off the fragrance of herbs.
On the upper shelves, straw mats were spread flat with common herbs such as dried tangerine peel, licorice, and codonopsis.
Yet if one used a secret method to infuse them with spirit dew, then through nine steamings and nine dryings, these common herbs could serve as minister and assistant herbs, paired with the main herb, and thus be used for “pellet refining.”
For Qi Refining cultivators, refining elixirs and consuming them was nothing unusual.
He walked over to the herb rack and crouched down. On the floor was a brick-colored ceramic jar with a straight mouth, sloping shoulders, deep belly, and flat bottom.
He lifted off the bowl-shaped ceramic lid; inside was a jar of clear green water, pure and transparent, with a single tiger ginger floating and sinking within it.
Tiger ginger was a spirit herb of the huangjing kind.
Qi Refining cultivators used it to refine “tiger ginger pellets.” This pellet was the most common food pellet, sought from the outside, and could assist Qi Refining.
Qin Xuan fished out from the jar the tiger ginger that had been soaking for three days, then took another tiger ginger from his hundred-treasure pouch.
Both had been purchased from the same stall in the sect’s market. According to the fellow disciple, they had been dug from Yunxiu Mountain beyond the commandery. Their years of growth were similar, and their spirit natures were not much different.
But if they were placed before that stall owner again now, it would certainly leave him dumbfounded.
Although Qin Xuan had already seen them before, his forearms still trembled slightly, unable to suppress his excitement.
The two tiger gingers were amber all over. Their tubers were as thick as an infant’s forearm, marked with fine tiger stripes. Root fibers pierced out from the joints, their tips red as if soaked in cinnabar.
The one fished out from the jar was greatly different.
Its root fibers were golden, crystal clear and sparkling. Within them, spirit light flowed along the tiger stripes on the surface in layers, as if alive. The medicinal fragrance it emitted was fainter, yet every breath of it invigorated the spirit.
Such a transformation completely transcended the usual bounds of judging medicinal herbs by “years of growth.”
It was by no means the spirit nature that a single tiger ginger could display.
“It worked! It worked again!”
Qin Xuan hurriedly took a purple-green gourd from his hundred-treasure pouch, lifted the gourd’s stopper, and infused it with spiritual qi.
The mouth of the gourd pulsed with dark light, and in an instant it sucked in the extraordinary tiger ginger.
Next, he poured most of the water from the ceramic jar into a pill cauldron used for refining, and heated it with beast charcoal. After two sticks of incense, he used the purple-green gourd to draw out the condensed water from the cauldron, filling the gourd exactly.
Qin Xuan’s face glowed with joy. He lifted the gourd by its body and shook it a few times.
The purple-green gourd contained fire stone and carried postnatal bing-fire qi. As long as spiritual qi was infused, it could refine certain spirit fruits and spirit herbs into pulp. It was a common magical tool used by Qi Refining cultivators for extracting spirit dew and brewing spirit wine.
With that, a gourd of “tiger ginger spirit dew” was refined.
The remaining water in the jar was not wasted either. He gave a little to the potted spirit box herbs under the corridor eaves, and gave the rest to the green pine in the courtyard.
Toward this friend, Qin Xuan was not stingy in the least.
He then fetched some rootless water, filled the ceramic jar, and placed another ordinary tiger ginger inside.
After finishing these preparations, Qin Xuan observed his surroundings.
This secluded small courtyard rarely had anyone passing by on ordinary days, but he was still cautious.
Seeing no one around, he extended his left palm, his thoughts racing.
Qin Xuan’s eyes were bright and intense. In his empty palm, an object suddenly appeared!
It was a square jade mirror, blue-white throughout, uniform in thickness, just small enough to rest lightly in the palm. Its surface shone with a soft luster like congealed cream, and its back was carved in shallow relief with cloud patterns and inlaid with peculiar dark gold.
He had picked up this jade mirror in his previous life by the Luo River near Luoyang. Two months ago, it had suddenly appeared in his mind, and he could summon or dismiss it at will.
After some research, he had finally grasped a bit of its secret.
Looking into the ancient mirror’s surface, it seemed one could see a vast lake, with a bright moon dimly visible at its center.
Qin Xuan reached out with his right hand, like scooping the moon from water, and actually fished that bright moon out of the mirror!
At once, a mass of pure bright spirit light appeared in his hand. This light seemed impossible to absorb, yet it had another use.
Skillfully, he cast the spirit light into the ceramic jar holding the tiger ginger and covered it well.
Based on previous experience, as day and night alternated, it would take at least three days and no more than five. Then the jar of spirit water and the tiger ginger with extraordinary spirit nature would be complete!
Qin Xuan stroked the ancient mirror that had brought him anticipation. In his past life and this one, it had always been there, and was also an old friend.
That his cultivation could advance, that he could understand the hidden sword art in Spring Letters, Autumn Post...
All these changes were its gift.
Although the bright moon in the jade mirror had vanished, as long as he sat in meditation under the moon and cultivated qi, he could restore it.
In the past two months, the greatest change in him had not been his cultivation, but his state of mind.
It was like a young person who had just graduated arriving in a strange city, stumbling along for a long time, and finally finding a stable career—his heart settled, with hope for the future.
Qin Xuan gazed at the morning sun. After a moment, his thoughts were interrupted by a sound of footsteps.
He stored the jade mirror in his mind and looked out from the attic. To his surprise, it was Liu Xi and Yu Han returning.
He did not go down to meet them, only sat quietly in the lotus position on a straw cushion in the center of the attic.
Before long, a knock and a call came from outside: “Senior Brother Qin.”
“Come in.”
Liu Xi and Yu Han entered this second-floor attic, which very few people could reach on ordinary days. They saw Senior Brother Qin sitting cross-legged before them, and five chi behind him sat a small incense burner sending up warm, delicate wisps of fragrance.
“Senior Brother, there has been a change in the Geng family’s grave relocation.”
“What happened?”
Liu Xi answered:
“I heard that the Geng family head invited a group of jianghu folk—worldly Daoists and wandering monks among them. They said the day after tomorrow is an auspicious day, highly favorable for grave relocation. But the mountain’s appearance has changed, and whether the ancestral grave can be found within a single day is uncertain, so the date was moved up to tomorrow.”
Oh?
The Geng family was a major incense patron of the temple, but they had never come to the mountain to request anything before. This time was the first.
Qin Xuan did not know much about the Geng family.
Worldly Daoists, wandering monks, and unordained clerics of the jianghu had no fixed lineages; good and evil were hard to tell apart, and many harbored unorthodox arts. Anyone who dared deal with them was either a jianghu veteran or utterly ignorant.
Qin Xuan refilled two cups of tea.
“Sit, and tell me the details about the Geng family.”
The two nodded and began to speak, one sentence after another.
Liu Xi spoke quickly, and since he had dealt with the Geng family before, he talked more. Yu Han, beside him, naturally had a free moment and took the opportunity to examine this senior brother’s residence.
What attracted her most was a short piece of calligraphy hanging on the curtain on the west side of the attic, its ink appearing not long dried.
On it was written:
“White clouds and yellow cranes mark the Daoist’s home:
One qin, one sword, one cup of tea.
Feathered robes always bear the color of mist and rosy clouds,
Untainted by the peach and plum blossoms of the mortal world.”
...
Chapter 2