Chapter 32

A master would pay attention to the flow of energy, a dynasty would have its fate, and a sect would also have its own aura.

The three major Daoist sects in the world stand in a tripod, with Dragon Tiger Mountain being favored by the Liyang Dynasty and serving as the leader of Daoism for hundreds of years. The four Celestial Masters each possess profound and mysterious powers, and Dragon Tiger Mountain has produced a steady stream of geniuses, with almost every generation producing one or two world-shaking talents.

In the past hundred years, there was Ge Hong, who wrote "The Taiji Golden Pill," denouncing external alchemy as a side path. His twenty thousand words directly targeted Wudang, criticizing the Dan Ding School to the point of leaving no room for defense.

Fifty years ago, there was Qi Xuanzhen, who single-handedly slaughtered almost all six protectors of the Demon Sect. Unfortunately, until he ascended to the斩魔台 (Demon Slaying Platform) on Dragon Tiger Mountain, this Celestial Master never had a chance to compete with Wang Xianzhi. Otherwise, the title of "First Under Heaven" would not have been left vacant.

Thirty years ago, a national Celestial Master skilled in internal alchemy emerged, extending the old emperor's life by fifteen years, a feat rumored to have been achieved through a life-for-life method. This national master, who had once claimed he would live for three cycles of sixty years, passed away before reaching old age, but brought a century of glory to Dragon Tiger Mountain.

Ten years ago, a debate between Buddhism and Daoism lasted for a hundred days, and it was a previously unknown Dragon Tiger Mountain Daoist who concluded the debate with a brilliant and profound discourse, leaving the Two Zen Temples with no choice but to admit defeat.

And Wudang?

It seemed that for a hundred years, there had been no outstanding figures or events.

What kind of grand aura could it have?

If not for Wang Zhonglou's cultivation of the Great Yellow Court, this mountain would have been forgotten by the world, along with its small and large Lotus Peaks, the Jade Pillar, and the rise of the Black Tortoise.

Today, Hong Xiang followed his oldest senior brother, Song Zhiming, to refine elixirs, not on the Green Cloud Peak, which has the largest alchemical furnaces in the world, but on the small Lotus Peak, where there was only a bronze furnace half a person's height. It consumed little charcoal, sulfur, and elixir stones, and there was no selection of auspicious days, no construction of altars, no drawing of talismans, and no arrangement of magical swords and ancient mirrors to ward off evil. To outsiders, it did not seem like a setup for refining high-quality elixirs. However, Song Zhiming was extremely nervous, more so than on the Green Cloud Peak, crouching on the ground to personally control the fire, his two white eyebrows trailing to the ground without notice.

Song Zhiming, at his age, had refined countless elixirs, many of which were sent to high-ranking officials and even the imperial family in the capital. "Zhiming Elixirs" were well-known throughout the dynasty. However, the old man knew that his elixir refinement, like his Daoist cultivation, was limited in insight, lacking the harmony of yin and yang. When "The Taiji Golden Pill" was published, Song Zhiming could only smile bitterly, unable to refute it. But after his junior brother came to the mountain, he read through the classics and found a new path, not confined to internal or external alchemy, but practicing both. Therefore, in recent years, it was not Song Zhiming teaching Hong Xiang how to subdue dragons and control the five elements, but the senior brother willingly serving as a fire-tending Daoist for his junior brother.

In the eyes of the Crown Prince, this cow-riding Daoist was the most idle, but in the eyes of all his senior brothers, Hong Xiang was truly the reincarnation of the True Wu Emperor, capable of turning the tide. The 4,000-word "Cantong Qi" elixir refinement method was considered by the sect leader Wang Zhonglou to be the most wonderful secret text in Daoism for five hundred years. It was not just about refining elixirs but about achieving the supreme Dao. Wang Zhonglou never hid the fact that it was the 4,000 words that gave him the confidence to cultivate the Great Yellow Court. The boxing techniques learned by Xu Fengnian, which combined the highest levels of the Jade Pillar's heart method and Wudang's sword techniques, were not found in the scripture hall as Hong Xiang claimed, but were the result of his daily divinations, perfectly in line with the Dao.

The young Daoist riding the cow had no idea how shocking his actions were. If he did, given his timid nature, which the Crown Prince often mocked as that of a turtle, he would probably just mutter that the world below was too scary and he would never leave the mountain until he became the best.

Hong Xiang frowned and stared at the alchemical furnace, suddenly pulling Song Zhiming and shouting, "Withdraw!"

Song Zhiming knew something was wrong. No matter how precious the elixirs, they could not compare to his junior brother. He immediately rolled up his sleeves and quickly carried Hong Xiang away.

A loud explosion, and the furnace shattered.

The entire Wudang heard the ear-splitting boom. A thick green smoke rose from the peaks and temples, but no one was surprised. They simply looked up, saw the smoke, and continued their work.

Ha, our junior uncle is being naughty again.

On the small Lotus Peak, the two brothers were in a sorry state. Song Zhiming's Daoist robe sleeves were torn into rags, but at least he protected the culprit, his junior brother.

Hong Xiang ran to the broken bronze furnace, which he had forged by hand. With the number of pilgrims to Wudang decreasing, the mountain was known for its financial difficulties. If not for Song Zhiming's constant alchemical refinement on the Green Cloud Peak, the mountain would have been as poor as a beggar, with nothing but the wind in its sleeves. After all, Wudang was not Dragon Tiger Mountain. Although the mountain was self-sufficient, it lacked the resources to do more. Hong Xiang's thoughts were simple, but he was not naive. If simplicity were considered childish, there would be no smart people in the world. The sect leader's eldest brother had a clear reason for inviting the Crown Prince to Wudang, and Hong Xiang understood this, but he did not share the younger brother's anger and rejection.

Hong Xiang crouched and saw the mud-like elixirs in the broken furnace. He picked up a bit with two fingers, sniffed it, and frowned, saying, "We're still far off. Third Brother, it looks like I'll have to borrow your furnace. Don't scold me when the time comes. Little Wang Brother doesn't even let me into his bamboo grove. If I can't go to the Green Cloud Peak, sigh."

The kind and benevolent Song Zhiming looked at his worried junior brother and laughed, "Sure thing."

Hong Xiang suddenly looked up at the sky, lost in thought.

Song Zhiming recalled a small incident from many years ago and teased, "Junior Brother, you've been quite close to the Crown Prince this year. Are you attached to that Xu girl in red? If I remember correctly, that little girl wore a bright red outfit in the snow, and you stared at her."

Hong Xiang smiled bitterly, "Third Brother, even you! Now only Little Wang Brother hasn't mocked me. I was only fourteen then, what did I know?"

Song Zhiming laughed and asked, "How old are you now?"

Hong Xiang, who never remembered his age, carefully calculated, "Twenty-four? Twenty-five?"

Song Zhiming smiled playfully, "So you remember clearly that you were fourteen when you met that girl?"

Hong Xiang fell silent, continuing to stare at the sky.

That year, the Beiliang Mansion, led by Grand Marshal Xu Xiao, ascended the mountain with nearly a hundred people. At that time, Grand Marshal Xu had just conquered half of the martial world, and the world was waiting for the Beiliang iron cavalry to crush Wudang. However, Xu Xiao did not come to destroy the Black Tortoise's rise but to burn incense. Among those he brought were his eldest daughter Xu Zihu, who was just coming of age, his second daughter Xu Weixiong, whose poetry and talent were beginning to gain fame, his son Xu Fengnian, who exuded a mysterious aura, and his always simple-minded son Xu Longxiang. After ascending the mountain, the four children of Grand Marshal Xu played around, with Xu Weixiong being the most arrogant, carving "Exiled for Three Thousand Miles" behind the statue of the True Wu Emperor, a crooked but revealing inscription. Wudang was both amused and helpless, not daring to say a harsh word. Xu Zihu, on the other hand, did nothing out of the ordinary, wandering aimlessly until she met a cow-riding "little Daoist."

Her first words were, "Hey, little Daoist, how old are you?"

The little Daoist on the cow's back blushed and thought for a long time. By the time he confirmed his age, the red-clad girl, who stood out in the snow, had already walked away impatiently.

He was left muttering, "Fourteen."

The second time they met was when she was about to marry far away in Jiangnan.

Cranes circled, a scene like a fairyland.

Near the Turtle Carrying the Stele on the small Lotus Peak, she saw Hong Xiang and laughed, "Hey, little Daoist, this mountain is so boring. Why don't you marry me? It would be fun."

He blushed again, unable to say a word.

After that, there was nothing more. They never met again.

He only knew her name was Xu Zihu, that she liked to wear a bright red outfit, and that she once muttered, "I wish I could ride a yellow crane."

Hong Xiang calculated again, breaking his usual routine of calculating once a day.

He was calculating whether he could leave the mountain in his lifetime.

He was calculating whether he could ride a crane to Jiangnan.

He did not know that such a departure would be considered divine.

At the peak of Wudang, dark clouds gathered, and thunder could be heard.

Hong Xiang suddenly stood up and looked toward the Xianxian Peak.

{Piaotian Literature}