Chapter 107: The Appointment

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The four hundred and twenty-seventh year of the Ming era passed swiftly and richly for Cheng Xinzhan.

It began with the current of swords plunging upward through the skies above White Jade Capital after Tao Capital had been severed in two.

He spent the year studying thunder arts on Pivot Mountain, swordsmanship on Sword-Throwing Mountain, and refining arts on White Tiger Mountain. Those three pursuits were unquestionably his greatest gains of the year.

Within a single year, he mastered all Five Thunders, astonishing the elders of the Five Thunders Academy.

His swordsmanship was no longer guided solely by impulse, seeking victory through speed. Now he understood when to advance and when to retreat, when to tighten and when to release.

His knowledge of refining arts had only just begun, yet he had already reforged Tao Capital, refined Autumn Waters, and was on the verge of completing his first Five-Elemental ritual sword.

Along the path of qi refinement, he contemplated the gathered mountains, and within his Earth Mansion, the divine radiance of Prince Bingling had already begun to take shape.

In the Way of Talismans, his thunder talismans and mountain talismans were so remarkable that even Patriarch Xuan admired them without end.

And this was only Cheng Xinzhan’s fourth year of studying the Dao.

There had been a few side episodes as well. For instance, the reputation of Three Pure Mountains for its mastery of the sword had spread through the mouths of guests who had attended the sword-dueling assembly at White Jade Capital.

Quite a few people had learned that Three Pure Mountains possessed a young disciple named Cheng Xinzhan.

In the eighth month, for example, the daughter of the Xiao family of White Jade Capital had brought several hundred servants to pay her respects at Three Pure Mountains.

And the Dragon-Tiger Mountain Sect had sent people to invite Three Pure Mountains to attend the Dragon-Tiger Ritual Assembly two years hence.

In short, it had been a splendid year for Cheng Xinzhan. Perhaps because his cultivation was still shallow, and he had not yet experienced decades spent passing through a single barrier in secluded meditation, every year seemed splendid to him.

Amid his busy days, the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month arrived. The New Year was near, so he asked leave of White Tiger Mountain and his honored master, Wen Sukong, promising to return by the second day of the new year at the latest.

He had promised this year to replace the door-god pictures for the Miao villages.

Once permission was granted, he left his physical body in the Cave of Freedom to continue refining qi and contemplating the Dao. Early on the twenty-ninth day, his soul set out in a bamboo body, carrying all his weapons and necessities.

Naturally, Third Sister was nestled in his arms, while Deng-ge followed at his side.

He arrived silently at Rain-Lin Abbey and left a bottle of Blood-Replenishing Spring-Return Pills and a mirage pearl before the old abbot’s door.

He had obtained the Blood-Replenishing Spring-Return Pills from Feng Jihu. They promoted circulation and regulated vitality. Their medicinal force was mild, making them especially suitable for an elderly mortal such as the old abbot.

As for the mirage pearl, it had been given to him by the Foreign Affairs Bureau. It contained a record of the scenes from the sword-dueling assembly, though he had no idea where the bureau had acquired it.

Now, however, it was the perfect gift for the abbot.

For within it was the scene of Cheng Xinzhan displaying Autumn Waters before the gathered swordsmen.

That had always been the old abbot’s wish.

He left the mirage pearl behind and departed without seeing the old man again.

Afterward, he went directly to his parents’ graves, without returning to the town.

The graves had been tended very well. There were no weeds or encroaching shrubs; it was clear that someone had been caring for them with great diligence.

He knelt and bowed, speaking for a while. The paper he burned was covered with the scriptures of deliverance he had written earlier at the sect.

Then he left.

This journey was not for experience or to behold the world, so he did not travel at a leisurely pace. Having refined the Radiant Cloud-Hall Astral Aura, he simply held Third Sister in his arms, transformed his body into a light cloud, and flew away.

Deng-ge was even more remarkable now. Unlike Third Sister, who was always shirking and dozing, Deng-ge trained his body and consumed qi with almost painful diligence. He had likely awakened the demonic blood within him and could now cast a few minor spells by instinct.

For example, when Cheng Xinzhan slightly conjured the wind while flying, Deng-ge could ride the air and tread the empty sky behind him.

Before long, they reached Poyang Lake, arriving on the southern shore as before. Along the way, he glanced at the osmanthus grove from that earlier visit.

The last time he had come, it had been summer, and the trees had been lush and green. Now everything was white with snow.

The shores of Poyang Lake were frozen solid. He flew inward. Now that he had transformed into a light cloud and supplemented it with wind arts, he was even faster than the second-realm cultivators Jiang Yanxing and Jiang Yuexing. Before long, he saw the islands belonging to the Golden Aspect Sect and descended toward Brightlight Hall.

This time, no one accompanied him, but the moment he drew near, someone came out to greet him.

“Please inform Daoist Master Xuanhui that an old friend from the summer before last has come to visit,” Cheng Xinzhan said.

The guard broke into a smile at once. “Daoist Cheng may not remember me, but I remember Daoist Cheng. Last year, you saved our young master’s life. How could we ever forget? Please, Daoist Cheng.”

He extended a hand and led Cheng Xinzhan inside.

A little surprised, Cheng Xinzhan followed him with a broad smile.

The moment he landed, a high cry rang out.

“Benefactor!”

He knew who it was.

Jiang Nanjing hurried over. Once he reached Cheng Xinzhan, he immediately bent low in a grand bow.

“Greetings, Benefactor.”

Cheng Xinzhan quickly helped him up and told him there was no need for such ceremony. At once, Jiang Nanjing’s uncle, parents, and teacher arrived as well.

The group took their seats in the main hall.

“I can still vividly recall Daoist Cheng’s brilliance at the Lord of the Pearl Tower’s sword-dueling assembly!” Jiang Yanxing said with a laugh.

Cheng Xinzhan looked somewhat surprised. “You were there that night as well?”

The group nodded with smiles.

“We were in Peacock City at the time. We had originally intended to visit you after the sword duels ended, but your flying sword was damaged and you were eager to return to your sect. It would have been inconvenient for us to approach you then,” Jiang Yanxing explained.

“I knew only that my benefactor’s mastery of incantations was extraordinary. I never imagined that his attainments in the sword Dao would be so profound as well!” Jiang Nanjing exclaimed.

Jiang Yanxing and Jiang Yuexing chimed in at once.

“We were already astonished when we saw Daoist Cheng in the physical-sword arena. Then, in the ritual-sword arena, we watched him seize first place and were stunned by his heavenly talent. But we never would have imagined that the person who fought the Emei swords alone at the end would also be Daoist Cheng. We were left utterly speechless.”

At the end, the wife of Emei’s sect master had appeared, revealing to all the spectators that the flying swords had belonged to Emei. Then Cheng Xinzhan had controlled his sword with his spirit, manifested high in the sky, and bid farewell to the Lord of the Pearl Tower. The Moon-Reflecting Mirror had faithfully captured the entire scene, allowing everyone to learn that the master of the crimson flying sword that had overwhelmed Emei was none other than Cheng Xinzhan of Three Pure Mountains.

Physical swords, ritual swords, flying swords—he excelled at every one of them.

After countless flying swords had been knocked from the sky and Emei’s Five Swords had surrounded Cheng Xinzhan, the thirty flying swords that remained all belonged to the traditions of Shu.

This had clearly left the Lord of the Pearl Tower displeased.

In the end, he had not even held a flying-sword arena. After Cheng Xinzhan departed, the old Sword Immortal simply announced that the remaining thirty flying swords would share first place.

The reward offered by the Lord of the Pearl Tower for first place in the flying-sword arena was one Heart-Clearing, Desire-Subduing Pill for each winner.

That unquestionably turned the thirty flying swords of Shu joining forces to knock down the others into a complete joke.

In the eyes of the spectators, the true champion of the flying-sword arena was still Cheng Xinzhan of Three Pure Mountains.

In the eyes of those spectators, Cheng Xinzhan had achieved three consecutive victories.

Cheng Xinzhan merely smiled and did not continue the conversation. Instead, he asked Jiang Nanjing, “How has your study of that incantation been going?”

Jiang Nanjing puffed out his chest.

“Benefactor, I have reduced the seventeen-character incantation to nine characters!”

Cheng Xinzhan’s face stiffened. Then he began coughing violently. Once he had finally caught his breath, he wanted nothing more to do with that subject. He reached into his robes, took out a small bottle, and handed it to Jiang Yanxing.

“What is this?”

Jiang Yanxing accepted the grayish bottle, unable to determine its contents.

Cheng Xinzhan explained, “Since you were all present that night at the sword duels, I need not say much. This contains the Radiant Cloud-Hall Astral Aura bestowed upon me by the senior Sword Immortal. I recalled that your hall is called Brightlight Hall, and that you cultivate the Brightlight arts of the Golden Aspect tradition. This astral aura should be useful to you, so I came especially to give it to you.

“I have already used quite a bit of it myself. There should be about two zhu remaining. That is far too little for forming a core, but it should be enough for comprehending the intent of the art. I hope you will not disdain it.”

For a long while, no one in the hall spoke. It was so quiet that the sound of people swallowing could be heard.

This was astral dew!

After quite some time, the lead bottle seemed suddenly to have become unbearably hot. Jiang Yanxing hastily held it out with both hands and returned it to Cheng Xinzhan.

“Daoist, this gift is far too precious. We have done nothing to deserve such generosity!”

Cheng Xinzhan rose and stuffed the bottle into Jiang Nanjing’s arms. His smile was radiant and warm.

“Senior, when I came here last time, were the gifts you gave me any less valuable? The golden seal, the cavern stone, that entire basket of talisman arrows—I accepted all of them, did I not?”

He never forgot those who treated him well.

“This, this, this…”

Jiang Yanxing stammered. The gifts they had given before had been offered in gratitude for Cheng Xinzhan saving Jiang Nanjing’s life and teaching him the art. He had never considered them excessive. He had simply never imagined that Daoist Cheng would remember them so clearly.

At that moment, Jiang Yuexing asked, “Daoist, did you go to the Southern Frontier after leaving here last time?”

Cheng Xinzhan did not know why he was asking, but he nodded.

“You must have sold some talisman arrows in the Southern Frontier. They bore the mark of Brightlight Hall,” Jiang Yuexing said with a smile. “Redwood Ridge and Hundred Tribes Mountain fought one another for several years, only stopping when the Purple-Fire Scattered Peach Calamity appeared. For a time before that, the talisman arrows of Brightlight Hall suddenly became highly sought-after. Many people sought connections with our hall to purchase them, saying that their effects were extraordinary.

“When I thought about it, that period precisely matched the time when Daoist Cheng left the Golden Aspect Sect. Our method of making talisman arrows has never changed. The only exception was that particular batch, for which we had provided you with empty shafts.

“So those talisman arrows were not successful because of our hall. They were successful because Daoist Cheng’s talismans were so well drawn.

“Still, because the reputation of your talisman arrows spread across the Southern Frontier battlefield, our hall’s business improved considerably for no reason at all.”

Cheng Xinzhan smiled as well. He had never expected such a consequence.

“Our hall has also prepared a small gift…”

Cheng Xinzhan could not bear to hear any more. He hurriedly waved his hand to stop him, saying repeatedly, “All of you seniors, and Jiang Nanjing as well, are busy with your cultivation. I will not disturb you any longer. I shall take my leave now. Until fate brings us together again!”

With that, Cheng Xinzhan saluted. Before the others could react, he left the hall and rose into the heavens.

And just like that, he was gone.

Holding the lead bottle, Jiang Yanxing gazed into the distance at Cheng Xinzhan’s departing figure and murmured, “Truly the bearing of an immortal!”

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After leaving Poyang Lake, he flew westward and soon saw the Gan River, the largest river in the Yuzhang region.

Though he was flying this time, he followed the same route as before. Looking down at the broad and magnificent Gan River, he felt his heart and spirit expand.

The last time he had crossed the river, it had been summer, when the waters were swollen and abundant. Now the river still roared like thunder, but its surface was much lower than in summer. He could even see sandbars emerging in midstream—something he had not noticed before.

After crossing the Gan River, he flew straight toward Southern Peak. There, he paused briefly, circling around the mountain. He watched sword qi soar into the heavens and saw Hengshan seeming to fly beneath him.

The scenery was different from what he had seen when passing through the last time.

Perhaps this was the meaning of cultivation. To look upon the mountains, rivers, and myriad things of the world at different times was always to gain something different. Sometimes those changes came from the transformation of the landscape itself; at other times, they came from changes in one’s own cultivation and state of mind.

Only two or three years had passed. If one remained in this world for centuries or millennia, what sort of changes would one witness?

Leaving Hengshan behind, he flew toward the Miao territories with a heart full of joy, once again entering the mountains from Wugang.

The last time he had come, he had merely contemplated the Pleiades, and the snakes, insects, and yin creatures had not dared approach him. Now he had also cultivated the Dragon Thunder. The foul creatures sensed the majesty of Heaven and fled before him.

Deng-ge caught the familiar scent and ran all over the mountains, driving out even the creatures that had been sleeping in caves.

They reached the little stream once more. Its waters rushed swiftly and had not frozen over. Cheng Xinzhan scooped up a handful, washed his face, and felt his spirits sharpen at the touch of the frigid winter water.

He followed the stream upstream and soon saw the Miao village.

Even in winter, the villagers were not idle. Some were tending the fields, while others were clearing the irrigation channels. Looking farther afield, he saw still more hunting in the snow. At this time of year, following the paw prints of foxes and rabbits across the snow often brought a good harvest.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Deng-ge transformed into a streak of white wind and shot into the village, barking all the way. Behind him, he left a trail of plum-blossom prints in the snow.

The moment he entered the village, chaos erupted. Chickens scattered and dogs barked as the villagers shouted curses, unable to understand what had possessed the dog.

But as they cursed, they gradually sensed that something was wrong.

What village dog could possibly be so tall and powerfully built?

The old village chief was old in years, but he was still the village chief. Deng-ge pounced on him and knocked him to the ground. The chief seized the great white dog, which was wagging its tail furiously and licking his face.

Then understanding dawned.

He burst into laughter, rolled out from beneath the dog, sprang to his feet, and shouted, “Daoist Yun has returned! Daoist Yun has returned!”

He ran out of the village laughing. Though advanced in years, he moved with the vigor of a tiger in full stride.

Sure enough, the moment he passed through the village gate, he saw a young Daoist approaching slowly with a cat in his arms and a smile on his face.

“What are you all standing there for? Call back everyone who has gone out! Oh, and leave the hunters be—tell them to bring back as much game as they can before returning. Tonight, we hold a bonfire festival!”

Seeing the villagers who had followed him outside standing dumbly around Daoist Yun without moving, the old chief immediately began shouting orders.

Everyone scattered and hurried about their tasks, making the already-thick New Year atmosphere even livelier.

Once Deng-ge understood the old chief’s words and heard that people were hunting outside, he glanced at his master. When he saw Cheng Xinzhan nod, he immediately dashed out of the village.

Cheng Xinzhan smiled. It seemed that tonight’s meal would be quite good.

The old village chief came forward to receive him and ushered him into the village.

“We thought you were too busy to come this year, Daoist Yun!” the chief said with a laugh.

“Elder Munai, I said I would bring everyone new door-god pictures,” Cheng Xinzhan replied with a smile.

As soon as he entered the village, he saw several Miao women carrying buckets and rags up to his house.

The old village chief glanced at him and asked nervously, “Daoist Yun, you will stay for a few days before leaving, won’t you?”

Cheng Xinzhan nodded. “Naturally. I will stay for a few days.”

At those words, the chief’s face blossomed into a grin.

“How has the village been these past two years?”

“Good! Very good!”

The old village chief began enthusiastically telling Cheng Xinzhan all about it.

With Deng-ge along, the hunters who had gone out naturally returned laden with game. Deng-ge pressed himself against his father’s side, though he was already much taller than the man.

That night brought a bonfire festival filled with song and dance. The men and young women of the Miao village brought out the horn-shaped liquor they had prepared the previous year and took turns pouring it into their guest’s mouth.

Cheng Xinzhan refused none of it.

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End of Chapter

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