Chapter 1

As the sun set in the west, red clouds spread across the sky, and the orioles sang their evening songs. In the midst of the continuous mountains, the evening mist gradually deepened, and the valleys became dim and profound.

On a mountain peak, a faint wisp of smoke rose and slowly dissipated. In the afterglow of the setting sun, a small figure appeared in a dilapidated courtyard.

"Master... it's time to eat..."

A young boy, about ten years old, happily crossed the courtyard. His gray and old Taoist robe was a bit too large, with the sleeves rolled up high. He held a bowl of white rice in both hands.

Stepping over the foot-high threshold, the boy rushed into a large, dilapidated room. Above the door, three ancient and weathered characters were faintly visible: Xuan Yuan Temple.

An old Taoist priest emerged from inside. His face was gaunt, his gray hair tied in a Taoist bun, and he had a long beard.

"Master! Try the white rice I cooked, it's very fragrant!" The boy's eyes sparkled with mischief.

The old Taoist's long eyebrows twitched, and his eyes were filled with kind smiles. He chuckled and said, "Your master can eat both mountain delicacies and simple meals. But the rice cooked by Xiao Yi is the only dish I can't do without every day!"

Hearing this, Xiao Yi's face lit up. He took out two earthen bowls from his chest, filled them with rice, and then pulled out two pairs of bamboo chopsticks from his waist.

The master and disciple sat on the ground, and the faint aroma of the rice slowly spread.

Watching Xiao Yi wolf down his food, the master put down his bowl and chopsticks, smiling, "Grains are the sustenance of the people. But we who practice Taoism should not eat grains, but rather live on the wind and dew. Grains can cause a hundred diseases! Xiao Yi, why don't you chew slowly? Don't choke!"

The master's appetite was small. It was more like he was keeping Xiao Yi company while they talked. Xiao Yi was used to this. He laughed and licked the rice grains from the corner of his mouth, savoring them.

After another mouthful, Xiao Yi tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and said, "Master! The ancients said: those who eat meat are brave and fierce, those who eat grains are wise and clever. In my opinion, it's better to eat more white rice!"

The old Taoist exclaimed, "Oh!" He stroked his beard, pondered for a moment, and then laughed, "You rascal, you know the second part but only say the first, taking things out of context." His expression then turned serious, and he sighed, "The ancients also said: those who live on qi are enlightened and long-lived, while those who do not eat can achieve the Great Way!"

"Master, it seems I should eat more meat, be brave and fierce, and do righteous deeds," Xiao Yi chuckled, changing the subject.

The old Taoist, lost in thought, didn't pay much attention to Xiao Yi's words. Instead, he instructed, "Xiao Yi, bring me my gourd, and the pickled soybeans that Old Lu gave me last time."

"Um... I know," Xiao Yi mumbled, put down his bowl, and ran out. A moment later, he ran back, holding a small wine gourd and a clay jar.

"Good! Good! Give me the gourd, and put the pickled soybeans on the ground."

The old Taoist took the wine gourd, took a small sip, and sighed contentedly. He then used the bamboo chopsticks to pick up a soybean and chewed it slowly, his beard trembling.

Watching his master enjoy himself, Xiao Yi couldn't help but chuckle. The old Taoist, seemingly unaware, took another sip of wine.

Xiao Yi ate his rice with the pickled soybeans, and soon his bowl was empty. He refilled it and, seeing his master still absorbed in the wine and soybeans, said, "Master, you should drink less, or you'll get drunk again!"

"Hmm... It's fine! Your master knows."

The old Taoist continued to sip, his eyes becoming hazy.

Xiao Yi took a mouthful of rice and asked casually, "Master, what exactly is the Great Way you often talk about?"

"Ha ha!"

The old Taoist laughed deeply. Whether it was the lingering taste of the wine or the strong flavor of the soybeans, he stroked his beard and said, "The Way of Heaven is not a thing...! Is it a thing? No... cough, cough!"

Perhaps he was choked by the wine, or perhaps his mind was a bit muddled. The old Taoist coughed, shook his head, and his blurred gaze turned toward the door, but he couldn't see anything clearly. Were his eyes clouded, or was it the heavy shadows of the mountains in the twilight?

Perhaps due to his old age and declining vitality, he sighed and said with a bitter smile, "What the Way of Heaven is, your master has been seeking for seventy years! I have never found the opportunity to enter its gates! In this world of dust and toil, I have achieved nothing. Sigh..."

Xiao Yi picked up his bowl, his playful expression gone. He looked around, then said cautiously, "Master, have you had too much to drink again?"

Looking at his thin and slightly delicate disciple, the old Taoist felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Hearing this, he was taken aback and scolded, "You rascal, your master is not drunk, but the wine does not intoxicate, it is the drinker who gets drunk!"

Seeing his master's mood improve, Xiao Yi took the opportunity to tease, "Master, you are already very powerful. Xiao Yi will also become as mighty as you, and the ancestors... the patriarchs should not blame you." As he spoke, he sneakily glanced at his master.

The disciple's thoughts could not be hidden from the master. The old Taoist laughed, "You rascal, you are just good with words!" He took another sip of wine.

"This thousand-year-old wine, I have been drinking for decades, and it is still as sweet and smooth as ever, with a sharp and strong flavor. Sigh! The wine is still the same, but your master is getting older every day!"

The old Taoist's tone changed, and he said with a sense of satisfaction, "But Xiao Yi is growing up every day, ha ha!"

...

The evening mountain breeze gently swept over the peak, passing through the dilapidated main hall of Xuan Yuan Temple.

The tall statue in the main hall, whose features were no longer discernible, stood solemnly as it had for a thousand years. The damaged curtains on either side fluttered slowly in the wind.

In front of the hall, the old Taoist lay on a mat, snoring contentedly.

A small figure was busy in the thickening twilight.

Covering his master with a light blanket and tidying up the simple utensils, Xiao Yi slowly left the main hall of Xuan Yuan Temple.

Crossing the small courtyard, he came to the broken wall of Xuan Yuan Temple. A flat stone, known as the reclining ox stone, was where Xiao Yi liked to spend his time.

He pulled up his robe and climbed onto the stone, which was as high as his shoulders, using his hands and feet.

Lying down with his head on his arm and his legs crossed, Xiao Yi lay quietly.

It was early May. The mountain breeze, warm and wild, blew over his body and face, feeling very comfortable.

A full moon hung in the sky, its light pouring over the mountain like a silver stream. Under the moonlight, Xuan Yuan Temple stood solemn and desolate. In the distance, the mountains were vast and indistinct.

This was the Thousand Peace Mountains, where Xuan Yuan Temple was located.

Xiao Yi liked to lie on the reclining ox stone, looking at the endless sky and listening to the faint sounds of insects and animals in the mountains. At such times, his dark eyes would become even more lively, and his face would show a calm and serene expression that belied his age.

Since he could remember, Xiao Yi had been with his current master. The master's Taoist name was Qing Yun, and he had never heard his secular name. Qing Yun Daozhang said he had forgotten it.

Perhaps the master didn't want to say it!

According to the master, Xuan Yuan Temple was built by Xuan Yuan Zhenren over a thousand years ago.

Xuan Yuan Zhenren had achieved great success in his Taoist practice. It was said that he could ascend to heaven, descend to earth, and control the wind and rain, making him a revered immortal. During the heyday of Xuan Yuan Temple, it had many disciples and was a place of pilgrimage for the people.

At the age of over two hundred, Xuan Yuan Zhenren ascended to heaven in broad daylight. The scene was grand and spectacular, and the people were amazed. His descendants built a statue of Xuan Yuan Zhenren in Xuan Yuan Temple and offered incense to continue the Taoist lineage.

However, for some unknown reason, after Xuan Yuan Zhenren's ascension, no one in Xuan Yuan Temple achieved immortality. The incense offerings gradually dwindled, and the disciples had to seek a living elsewhere.

The once bustling Xuan Yuan Temple eventually became deserted. Immortality and enlightenment became a distant legend.

Qing Yun Daozhang was the twentieth abbot of Xuan Yuan Temple. Xiao Yi became the only twenty-first-generation disciple of Xuan Yuan Temple. Qing Yun Daozhang had said that Xiao Yi was the successor, the only candidate for the next abbot. Thus, the task of restoring Xuan Yuan Temple's former glory fell on the shoulders of the thirteen-year-old Xiao Yi.

Thinking about this, Xiao Yi couldn't help but smile. He didn't care about being the abbot! As for immortality and enlightenment? He was just like any ordinary person, and his knowledge of immortals mostly came from stories in teahouses and village legends.

In his imagination, there should be immortals in heaven. But in his heart, he knew he had never seen an immortal and didn't really believe in these legends.

The master, Qing Yun Daozhang, had been practicing for decades. Apart from the martial arts and medical skills recognized by Xiao Yi, he was still far from achieving immortality and enlightenment.

Having the master's company, a full meal every day, and the opportunity to learn his skills, wasn't that a good life? Xiao Yi was always happy.

According to the master, Xiao Yi was found on the road.

Years ago, Qing Yun Daozhang traveled far and wide, seeking the opportunity to understand the Way of Heaven, but without success. On his way back to Xuan Yuan Temple, he encountered villagers who had been harmed by bandits. A severely injured couple, on the brink of death, entrusted their one-year-old child, Xiao Yi, to the kind Taoist.

Qing Yun Daozhang, considering the lack of successors at Xuan Yuan Temple, adopted the poor child.

For over a decade, the old Taoist had raised the orphan with great hardship.

Thus, Qing Yun Daozhang was like a second father to Xiao Yi, with a kindness and gratitude that surpassed that of his parents!

When Xiao Yi was about five or six years old, Qing Yun Daozhang began to teach him the traditions of Xuan Yuan Temple.

Unfortunately, in his old age, even with a lifetime of practice, Qing Yun Daozhang's body was not as strong as before. With no means of making a living, their life became increasingly difficult. Out of necessity, the old Taoist often took Xiao Yi down the mountain. They would perform exorcisms and other rituals in nearby towns to earn a meager living. They also treated the injuries and illnesses of the local villagers, earning some rice, salt, and mountain goods.

Despite the hardships, for the young Xiao Yi, life was simple and carefree.

The thousand-year history of Xuan Yuan Temple slowly passed in these light and gentle days.

The mountain peak where Xuan Yuan Temple was located was called Immortal Peak, standing over a hundred feet high, one of the eighteen peaks of the Thousand Peace Mountains.

Immortal Peak was steep, with sheer cliffs on the east, west, and north sides. The south side had a path leading down the mountain, a stone staircase carved along the ridge. The three-foot-wide steps, like a long snake, connected the top and bottom of the mountain.

The summit had a twenty-foot diameter, with the main hall of Xuan Yuan Temple and several side rooms. However, due to years of neglect, the temple was in its current state.

The only places that could shelter from the wind and rain were the main hall and a few side rooms, where the master and disciple cooked and slept.

At the foot of the mountain was a stone archway, the original entrance to Xuan Yuan Temple.

Near the entrance were some ruins, remnants of the past...