Chapter 719: From Once Upon a Mountain

Category: Poetic ProseAuthor: Fenghuo Xizhu Hou

Once upon a time, there was a mountain called Wudang. On the mountain was a peak called Lotus Peak. On the peak once lived a young Taoist priest named Hong Xixiang, who longed to descend the mountain but dared not. However, after that young sect leader’s journey down and back up the mountain, it was said he left this world.

Then, the even younger new sect leader, Li Yufu, brought back a bright-eyed, young child named Yu Fu. Perhaps his parents hoped he would accumulate blessings every year, as for poor families, a stable life often boils down to saving and making ends meet.

Lantern Festival was a major holiday. To welcome the Lantern Festival of the second year of Xiangfu, all Taoist priests on Wudang Mountain, regardless of seniority, were busy splitting bamboo and crafting lanterns, then covering them with Xuan paper. Even the most senior Grand Masters, Chen Yao and Yu Xingrui, were no exception. Sadly, the mountain's oldest Grand Patriarch, Song Zhiming, had passed away last year. He simply died; there was no miraculous ascension or becoming an immortal. The old Grand Master passed away peacefully, only murmuring that if his junior brother were still alive, he could have refined several batches of truly good elixirs. Furthermore, in the month before his death, the old man, Grand Patriarch Song, was often seen standing at the gate of Great Lotus Peak, looking down the mountain, clearly waiting for his sect leader nephew. From the old Grand Master's master, Huang Manshan, to his senior brother Wang Chonglou, then to his junior brother Hong Xixiang, and finally to the current sect leader Li Yufu, Song Zhiming, apart from his paintings of the patriarchs, had lived for two *jiazi* (120 years) and witnessed four Wudang sect leaders. Thus, he passed away very peacefully. The older generation of Grand Masters was gradually fading. Grand Master Chen Yao, who oversaw the precepts, could also no longer conceal his old age. Fortunately, Wudang Mountain had always regarded birth, aging, sickness, and death with equanimity. Moreover, Wudang Mountain's incense offerings were flourishing, and several peaks on the mountain had held "mountain opening" ceremonies that were not grand but remained solemn.

Even with the Lantern Festival approaching, many devout men and women began to ascend the mountain to burn incense before dawn. Unlike many Taoist and Buddhist temples in Liyang that opened back doors for officials and nobles, where common folk might never burn the first stick of incense even after a lifetime of offerings, in Beiliang, if you arrived early, ordinary people could also burn the first incense stick on Wudang Mountain. On Wudang Mountain's Southern Divine Path, pilgrims came in an endless stream, including many outsiders with foreign accents. At a time when the Beiman army was marching south, the entire three prefectures of Beiliang resembled a funnel, with a rapidly declining population. This made the arriving foreign pilgrims seem like carp swimming upstream, clearly indicating Wudang's current prosperity. There were even rumors that the imperial court would soon transfer the title of Taoist Ancestral Court from Longhu Mountain to Wudang to appease Beiliang. Among the throng of incense burners, there was a young couple, appearing to be from a humble background, with no fine silks or mink furs, no intimidating robust escorts, and not even a lantern. They joined another family they met at the foot of the mountain, traveling together and using the family's lantern light to navigate the mountain path. When the young man introduced himself, he claimed to be Xu Qi, a native of Beiliang, and his wife's surname was Lu, whose hometown was Qingzhou. In his words, she came to suffer in Beiliang, following the proverb "marry a chicken, follow a chicken; marry a dog, follow a dog." The large family accompanying them comprised sixteen people across four generations, including an 80-year-old elder named Yan, who said he was from Guangling Road. He had served as an official in the capital and locally, only retiring last year to return home. The elder was humorous and very talkative, chatting with Xu Qi about anecdotes from across the land, adding much laughter to the otherwise tedious mountain ascent. Although Xu Qi had no remarkable stories, he always managed to keep the conversation going with the elder.

Aside from the elder, the men of the Yan family from the other two generations initially looked down on this "Beiliang barbarian." This wasn't entirely surprising given their haughty attitudes. Among Liyang's many regional disputes, Beiliang, governed by Xu Xiao, and Southern Xinjiang, overseen by Prince Yan Chi Zhao Bing, were always considered equally barbaric by both court and commoners, inferior even to Liangliao. This led to a great joke in the imperial court years ago: when the first Beiliang scholar passed the imperial examination, attaining the Jinshi degree, Tai'an City was greatly astonished, wondering if Beiliang could also produce scholars. Consequently, many people helped the scholar search his family lineage. Only when they finally discovered his ancestry traced back to Jianzhou in the Central Plains did they feel relieved, disregarding the fact that he and his family had been native to Lingzhou in Beiliang for several generations. It wasn't until Yan Jiexie became an imperial relative and then a Grand Scholar of the Hall, Jin Lanteng rapidly rose through the ranks, and Yao Baifeng, a master of Neo-Confucianism, arrived in the capital to oversee the Imperial Academy, that this poor impression of Beiliang as uncultured began to change slightly. They reluctantly admitted that Beiliang also had families who passed down traditions of farming and scholarship.

The Southern Divine Path to Wudang's Golden Summit main peak stretched twelve *li* and was a mountain road. With elders, children, and women among them, the Yan family's pace was slow due to their weak stamina. By the time the first morning bell rang on the mountain, they had only covered half the distance and rested at a pavilion specifically for travelers and pilgrims. As the elder gazed into the distance in the morning light, Xu Qi and his wife stood side by side, admiring the view below. After the elder sat down, his young great-grandson immediately ran over to massage his legs and feet. The elder laughed heartily, dotingly pulling the child onto his lap, and, pointing to the east, said, "This sight is called 'Heaven Opening in Azure and White'."

The child was clearly uninterested in "Heaven Opening in Azure and White," and looked up, asking in a childish voice, "Great-grandpa, are there really immortals on the mountain like Mama says? Can they fly through the mists?"

The Yan family patriarch laughed, stroking the child's head, but gave no direct answer. Instead, he turned to glance at the mist-shrouded mountain peak and quietly murmured, "I dare not speak too loudly, lest I startle the heavenly beings."

The child, not getting an answer, continued to whine and pester. The elder finally said, "We scholars must adhere to the sages' teaching of not speaking of strange powers or chaotic spirits. However, your great-grandpa can tell you, little one, some digressions: when I was young, I actually secretly ventured out, under the guise of traveling for study, to seek out immortals in high places, armed with a sword and dressed in scholar's robes. Perhaps I lacked the destiny, as I never encountered those revered figures with crane-white hair and youthful faces that people speak of. It was only in middle age that I visited Longhu Mountain's Celestial Master's Residence with many others and had a brief encounter with one of that generation's Old Celestial Masters. But I never had the chance for a deep conversation, as my official position was too low then; I was merely among the least important attendees. At the time, I simply felt that being an official was not as good as cultivating the Tao. There are so many scholars in the world, and it is exceedingly difficult to become a Grand Tutor in life and earn the posthumous title 'Wenzheng.' However, there are fewer cultivators in the world, making it relatively easier to achieve the status of a First Rank feather-robed minister."

The child was greatly disappointed. "Great-grandpa, then why did we come all the way to Wudang Mountain? Papa said riding in the carriage made his bones feel like they were falling apart."

A young Confucian scholar nearby immediately blushed with embarrassment.

The elder stroked his snowy white beard and smiled. "Your great-grandpa has not seen immortals, but when I served as a regional official, I met a Taoist priest of my age who passed through my jurisdiction. We had a very pleasant conversation. That Taoist taught me a set of health-preserving techniques, and your great-grandpa owes his longevity to that Taoist's kindness. Even after so many years, I still clearly remember his appearance: tall, benevolent, and magnanimous, with the demeanor of an ancient wandering scholar. Compared to the noble figures in yellow and purple robes from the Celestial Master's Residence, he truly had no pretense."

The elder sighed with emotion. "That Taoist was the previous sect leader of Wudang Mountain, named Wang Chonglou. I only found out much later that he was the sect leader of Beiliang Wudang Mountain, so I hurried here to see it before my body is fully buried in the earth. I also wanted to see just how 'high' the northwestern skies of Beiliang truly are. Because when your great-grandpa was an official in Tai'an City, a censor once impeached someone, claiming that after this person arrived in Beiliang, during a grand feast, he pointed at the chair beneath him and said to everyone, 'This chair is not a dragon throne, but it's much higher than the one in the capital.'"

The elder's son, who was nearly sixty years old, smiled upon hearing this and said, "That's likely a baseless rumor."

The elder nodded.

Xu Qi from Beiliang, who had been watching the elder holding his great-grandson, said nothing, turning instead to gaze silently into the distance.

His wife held his hand, turning her head to quietly ask, "Is that true or false?"

"It's true," Xu Fengnian, in his guise as Xu Qi, said softly. "I was small then, sitting on my father's lap, and he actually said that to me. Perhaps he meant to tell me that being an emperor isn't really interesting."

Xu Fengnian tightened his grip on Lu Chengyan's cool small hand and whispered, revealing the secret, "Officials retiring at seventy is a rule of the Liyang court. To be able to retire at seventy-nine is something not just anyone can achieve. The elder is Yan Song, who, as a capital official, rose as high as Vice Minister of Rites. He had political disagreements with Grand Chancellor Zhang Julu and was later ostracized to Luzhou in Jiangnan Road. Disheartened, he settled down locally to pursue scholarship. This time, Grand Chancellor Zhang has fallen from grace, and the court and commoners alike are terrified into silence. Yan Song is one of the few who dared to speak up for the Grand Chancellor, which shows his contention with Zhang Julu back then was an open and honorable rivalry between gentlemen. The reason I traveled with him is that Xu Xiao had a good impression of him, saying that among all those who criticized him, Yan Song's criticisms of Xu Xiao were fierce but reasonable."

The elder suddenly smiled at Xu Fengnian. "Xu Qi, before I entered Beiliang territory to come to Wudang Mountain, I visited several academies there. The situation surprised me greatly; it seems your new King of Beiliang is more scholarly than the old King of Beiliang, which is truly rare."

Lu Chengyan glanced at Xu Fengnian, who for the first time showed a trace of embarrassment, and she smiled knowingly.

After turning, Xu Fengnian said, "He must know his martial prowess isn't as good as Xu Xiao's, so he can only settle for second best and focus on administrative improvements."

The child was bewildered. He tugged at the elder's sleeve and asked, "Great-grandpa, didn't my uncle say the King of Beiliang's martial arts are very powerful?"

A middle-aged man said, with a wry smile, "The 'wu' in 'wen-wu' (civil and military achievements) doesn't refer to fighting skill."

After their chat, the group resumed their ascent. Nowadays, one thing all visitors and pilgrims to Wudang Mountain must do is witness the two daily practices, morning and evening, where many Taoist priests on the mountain, regardless of age or seniority, participate collectively. The Yan family hurried up the mountain so early precisely because they wanted to admire that scene: hundreds, even thousands, of Taoists practicing martial arts together in the plaza. It was rumored that this set of boxing techniques was originated by the previous sect leader, Hong Xixiang, and anyone could learn, practice, and benefit from it.

When the group finally reached the plaza outside Wudang's main temple at the summit, they were relieved not to have missed it; otherwise, they would have had to wait until dusk.

Sure enough, as rumors suggested, countless Wudang Taoists, spaced appropriately, practiced their boxing techniques together in the plaza. Even the most uninitiated commoners could perceive the comfort of that set of movements—yes, comfort. There were no overly profound actions, nor the usual grunts and shouts associated with martial arts practice; it was quiet and peaceful.

The elder, Yan Song, praised, "What an excellent 'flowing water' style."

The child, sitting on his father's shoulders, pointed into the distance, as if he had discovered some extraordinary immortal figure, exclaiming with delight and surprise, "There's a child about my age practicing boxing over there, there, he's at the very front!"

Although the elder couldn't see clearly, he was surprised to hear this. "Isn't the person leading the practice the current sect leader, Li Yufu?"

Xu Fengnian explained, "Li Yufu has taken a disciple."

Behind the Taoist priests, many pilgrims also followed along, practicing the movements. Perhaps they didn't grasp the true meaning or even the exact form, but each one was enthusiastic. However, they couldn't clearly see the movements of the Taoist leader, so they could only follow the pilgrims in front or nearby, making their practice appear somewhat incongruous, yet everyone was very serious. Then, the Yan family saw a young Taoist priest, seemingly not of high seniority, slowly walk from the front to the back, continuously offering careful guidance to the practicing pilgrims. With a smile, he would help correct movements that were too forceful, or techniques that weren't quite right, or wrists that weren't sufficiently dropped, or misunderstandings of "pulling the back."

Xu Fengnian looked at the young Taoist priest at the very front, who led each movement meticulously, his expression somewhat unusual.

The young Taoist priest saw Xu Fengnian, smiled slightly, and walked quickly towards him.

Lu Chengyan whispered, "Are you going to practice too?"

Xu Fengnian asked, "Do you want to see?"

Lu Chengyan smiled and nodded.

Xu Fengnian slowly walked forward, stood at the very end of the line, and then leisurely began to practice the boxing techniques.

The young Taoist priest paused, then stood alongside Xu Fengnian.

Their movements were identical, fluid and effortless, a pleasure to behold.

Xu Fengnian closed his eyes.

Back then, there was a poor fellow who, whenever he saw him, and knowing he would get beaten, would force a bitter smile and say, "You've come."

Xu Fengnian softly murmured to himself, "Ox-rider, I'm here."