Chapter Fifteen: The White Tiger Constellation, the Jade Dragon Listening to the Zither

Yun Qi returned to his lodgings, his arms full of books. He seated himself at his desk and first took out the "Treatise on the Seven Mansions of the White Tiger," carefully breaking the paper seal on its painted scroll.

Immediately, a silvery radiance emerged from the scroll, casting a cold, blade-like light upon Yun Qi’s face, so chilling it felt as though a knife pressed against his skin. He placed the scroll on the far right side of the desk and slowly unrolled it to the left. As it unfurled, the silver brilliance grew more intense, dazzling his eyes and forcing Yun Qi to close them reflexively.

A tiger’s roar suddenly broke the silence. Yun Qi, holding back tears from the piercing light, forced his eyes open. At that moment, he caught sight of a white tiger leaping from the scroll into a star-studded river that had appeared from nowhere; before he could get a better look, all traces vanished without a sound.

He marveled at the wonders of immortal arts, realizing all the more that this artifact from the Warring States period was truly extraordinary.

He examined the scroll closely and found its background pitch-black, with figures outlined in silver, their robes rendered in a riot of color as though painted by the hand of a true master. There was no way to tell that this was merely a rubbing from an ancient screen thousands of years old.

Looking more carefully, he saw that the scroll depicted, from right to left:

The Lord of Kui Wood Star. In the portrait, this deity reclined on a slab of jade, one hand propping his head, the other gripping a long, jade-green blade, his expression fierce. His face was indigo, with white tusks; wild crimson sideburns flared from either side of his head, and a few thick, purplish whiskers hung from his chin. He wore a pale yellow robe draped askew, his bare, bluish feet protruding, their knobby joints like the twisted roots of a cliffside tree.

The Lord of Lou Gold Star. This figure stood tall and broad-shouldered, sword clasped in his arms, dressed in a wide vermilion robe with a black, square cap and thick-soled official boots. His face was angular and bright yellow, with a mustache shaped like the character for “eight,” and a full, bristling beard beneath his chin. His eyes flashed like lightning, exuding an air of authority.

The Lord of Wei Earth Star. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, holding a spear slanted across his shoulders. Clad in armor draped with a yellow robe, his head was crowned with a pheasant-plumed helmet, his demeanor fierce and imposing.

The Lord of Mao Sun Star. This deity was dressed in splendid array, wearing a golden, bejeweled crown shaped like peach leaves, and a scarlet robe adorned with painted clouds encircling stars—auspicious clouds swirling, stars forming the constellation Mao. Around his waist was a warm yellow jade belt, inlaid with various agates, and a ceremonial tablet tucked in, painted with landscapes and rivers.

This star lord was not tall or burly but rather slender, with a pale, beardless face, golden pupils like burning fire, and a hooked nose. His left hand was tucked behind his back, his right raised, thumb and forefinger pinching a spark of flame—look closely, and it was actually a fine embroidery needle. He squinted one eye and tilted his head as if, having just forged a treasure, he now raised it to the light of the sun for inspection.

The Lord of Bi Moon Star. She wore palace robes the color of moonlight, the skirt layered with cascading tassels. Her hair, ears, and neck were adorned with bright pearls, truly radiant with jewel-like brilliance. She held twin swords, gazing steadily ahead, her eyes sharp and fierce, exuding heroic spirit.

The Lord of Zi Fire Star. Dressed in the official robes of a star deity, woven in purple and black, he looked both noble and dignified. His face was red, his mouth beak-like, his eyes blazing like embers. In his hand he gripped a short rod of red iron, his expression wrathful.

The Lord of Shen Water Star. Towering and powerful, with thick brows and large eyes, arms long as an ape’s and a bear-like waist, he wore blue armor with a robe the color of rippling water. His left hand rested on his hip, his right held aloft a great jade seal, glaring down with an air of command.

These seven star lords embodied the seven aspects of Yin-Yang and the Five Elements, occupying the western White Tiger quadrant, presiding over warfare and slaughter, and serving as principal deities for the palace-temple at the center of the mind, as well as future patrons of the five viscera—surely more than sufficient.

Yun Qi wished to open the palace of his heart, and the inner spirit deity for this palace should be of the fire element. By rights, the Lord of Zi Fire Star was the obvious choice, but Yun Qi favored the Lord of Mao Sun Star more.

He had three reasons.

First, the Lord of Mao Sun Star was a solar deity. Though transcending the Five Elements, he was still the wellspring of fire; harmonizing the Five Elements and Yin-Yang was difficult, but deriving the Five Elements from Yin-Yang was simple—thus, as the principal deity of the heart’s palace, he was perfectly suitable.

Second, the Lord of Mao Sun Star’s true form was a double-crested, golden-eyed rooster. The rooster, known as the “five-virtued bird,” was praised in ancient texts: “The rooster’s crest signifies civility; its spurs, martial prowess; it fights bravely when challenged; calls its kind to food, showing benevolence; and keeps watch without fail, symbolizing trustworthiness.” In contrast, the Lord of Zi Fire Star’s true form was a fire monkey—restless and hot-tempered, not to Yun Qi’s liking.

Third, as a yang creature and the herald of dawn, the rooster dispels darkness and subdues monsters and spirits. As the official of the heart’s palace, he naturally commands the five internal palaces and governs the hundred orifices.

Having settled his mind, Yun Qi pondered his decision a few times over, finding it sound. He carefully put away the scroll and re-sealed it to prevent its divine essence from dissipating too quickly.

Next, he turned to the “Treatise on the Construction of Daoist Temples,” focusing on the essentials of building palaces for solar deities, star lords, and fire gods.

———

Spring had passed into winter, and today brought heavy snow.

Pine Green Lake lay south of the Lesser Wanshan Mountains, deep within a pine forest rarely disturbed by human presence.

Today was the sixth day of the eleventh lunar month, the season of great snow. In fact, it had snowed for five days straight; the world was a boundless expanse of white, the snow on the ground blending seamlessly into the misty sky.

Snow blanketed the pine forest, yet at its heart remained a patch of vibrant green—the Pine Green Lake. Mist curled above its surface, but the water did not freeze. Amid the chill mist at the lake’s center, a single red dot hovered.

A biting wind parted the fog, revealing the red dot for what it was—a cloud of fire.

Atop the cloud stood a young Daoist, his eyes half-closed, repeating a series of movements:

He raised both arms from his sides, tracing an arc forward over the acupoints Changqiang and Shenshu, lifting them to the level of his collarbone, arms rounded as if embracing a sphere, fingertips facing each other. Then, as he lowered into a squat, his arms dropped to rest gently atop his knees.

With each movement, the young Daoist enunciated a slow, steady syllable: “Blow—”

When the long syllable ended, he inhaled deeply and rose, arms falling naturally to his sides.

As he inhaled, the cold mist above the lake was drawn toward him in wisps and streams.

From above, one could see a dark green shadow gliding beneath the surface, directly beneath the red cloud.

“All right, thank you, friend, for standing guard,” the young Daoist called to the water below.

Suddenly, there was a great splash. A giant creature broke the surface—a head like a dragon, but not quite dragon nor snake. Its body was covered in emerald scales, its head dragon-shaped but without horns: a green chi-dragon.

The head that emerged from the water was nearly the size of the young Daoist standing upon the cloud, suggesting the creature was not yet mature—a juvenile.

The little green chi-dragon opened its mouth and spat out an object, which landed on the cloud and was caught by the young Daoist: a dark green ancient zither.

Seeing him catch the zither, the little dragon’s jade eyes filled with delight and anticipation.

“Would you like to hear ‘The Fisher Girl’ again?” the Daoist asked.

The little dragon nodded vigorously.

Smiling, the young Daoist placed his hands on the instrument and began to play the old Tang melody, “The Fisher Girl.”

The piece was obscure, its name unknown to most. The Daoist’s father had stumbled upon it as a boy, hidden in some ancient music score, and it had since become the favorite of this juvenile chi-dragon.

Months ago, while gathering water essence atop the lake on Mid-Autumn night, with the moon reflected on the still surface, Yun Qi had hummed the song his parents had cherished. To his surprise, it lured the green chi-dragon, who lingered and would not leave.

As Yun Qi plucked the strings of the zither—named “Heavenly Wind and Pine Snow”—its tone was worlds apart from his father’s mortal instrument. Yet at this moment, Yun Qi’s heart ached for his father’s music, and for the gentle, contented smile his mother wore whenever she heard this tune.