Master Zhao, now graced with his scholarly name, felt an upwelling of joy. A deep bow conveyed his thanks to the Old Master. In response, the Old Master directed his disciples: Zhao was to be led from the courtyard, instructed in the proper graces, and taught the art of refined conduct. The disciples, without hesitation, obeyed. Once outside, Zhao turned to his fellow students, offered a bow of respect, and settled into the provided quarters, a simple space that would become his sanctuary.
With the dawn of the next day, the rhythm of his life took shape. Language, etiquette, classical texts – all were meticulously studied alongside his peers. Each day unfolded in this manner, the structured learning balanced by the earthy routines of sweeping the courtyard, coaxing life from the garden, gathering firewood for warmth, and hauling water for sustenance. For nearly seven years, this scholarly pursuit consumed him, a blend of intellectual rigor and quiet labor.
Then, one day, a transformation: The Old Master ascended the dais, a figure of authority and wisdom, and summoned all disciples. His purpose? To deliver a lecture on the profound Dao. And what a sight it was!
Golden lotuses bloomed in a silent burst of color. Celestial flowers rained down, petals dancing in the air.
Profound teachings unfolded for all who listened, echoing in perfect harmony.
He spoke of wisdom, of knowledge, and ultimately, of enlightenment – each word a carefully placed stone on the path to understanding.
Zhao, captivated, listened intently. A smile tugged at his lips, and he found himself scratching his head in bemused wonder. An uncontrollable urge seized him, and his hands and feet began to move, expressing the joy that bubbled within. This display did not escape the Old Master's keen eye. "Zhao," he called out, his voice carrying across the courtyard, "why this disruptive dancing? Why interrupt my lecture with such fervor?"
"Master," Zhao replied, his words tumbling out in a rush, "I am indeed listening with all my being! Your words, so profound and insightful, fill me with such joy that I cannot contain it! Please, grant me your forgiveness for this unseemly display." A moment of silence hung in the air before the Old Master inquired, his tone now laced with curiosity, "Tell me, Zhao, how long have you resided within these walls?" Zhao paused, reflecting on the passage of time. "The precise count escapes me, Master. However, I often venture behind the mountain in search of firewood. And I confess, I have indulged in the sweetness of the peaches that grow wild there – perhaps seven times to sate my hunger." A knowing smile touched the Old Master's lips. "Ah, the Peach Blossom Mountain, a place of simple pleasures. Seven peach feasts would suggest seven years have passed. Tell me then, what particular knowledge do you seek from my instruction? What is it you hope to gain?" With earnest eyes, Zhao responded, "I place myself in your hands, Master. Whatever wisdom you deem fit to bestow, I shall strive to learn."
"Countless are the paths that lead to enlightenment, each with its own challenges and rewards," began the Old Master, his gaze sweeping across the assembled disciples. "Which path calls to you, Zhao? Which do you wish to traverse?" Eager to prove his dedication, Zhao replied without hesitation, "I yield to your superior wisdom, Master. I will follow where you lead." A question hung in the air, unspoken, before the Old Master finally posed it: "Would you then consider the path of Technique? Divination and astrology lie within, offering the means to decipher fortune's whims and avoid the pitfalls of misfortune." A thoughtful frown creased Zhao's brow. "And can such skill lead me to immortality?" The Old Master's response was swift and decisive. "No, not in the truest sense. No, no." Firmly, Zhao declared, "Then that is not the path I shall take."
With a sigh, the Old Master proposed another option. "What then of the path of Influence? Might you aspire to become a politician, a leader, a shaper of society?" Inquisitively, Zhao asked, "What does such a path demand?" The Old Master elaborated, "This path encompasses the roles of government officials, those who wield power, religious leaders who guide souls, artists who stir hearts, and social figures who sway opinion. All engage in their respective crafts, striving to exert influence upon the world." Again, Zhao raised the crucial question. "But can this path deliver immortality?" A somber tone entered the Old Master's voice. "If immortality is your aim along this route, you will find it as elusive as building a pillar within a wall." Zhao tilted his head, confusion etched upon his face. "Forgive my ignorance, Master, but I struggle to grasp your meaning. What is this… building of a pillar within a wall?" The Old Master patiently explained. "Consider a house, built for strength and longevity. Pillars are placed within the walls, providing structural support. However, when the house eventually crumbles under the weight of time, so too will those pillars succumb to decay." Shaking his head, Zhao conceded, "If such is the inevitable end, then this path offers no lasting solace. No, I will not learn it."
The Old Master tried another approach. "Perhaps then the path of Tranquility would be more to your liking. It centers on fasting, on profound meditation, and on abstaining from the concerns of the mundane world." Zhao leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Tell me more, Master. What does this entail?" The Old Master continued, "This path calls for the practice of abstinence, the cultivation of inner peace, the stilling of the mind through meditation, and the unwavering adherence to precepts and vegetarianism. Is it not a worthy pursuit?" Yet again, Zhao's gaze sharpened with that familiar question. "And through this, can immortality be attained?" The Old Master's response was laced with a hint of melancholy. "It offers no more permanence than an unfired clay tile." Zhao chuckled softly, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Again, Master, my simple mind struggles to grasp your meaning. An unfired clay tile… what are you suggesting?" "Picture a brick," the Old Master replied, "carefully shaped, meticulously formed… yet never subjected to the transformative heat of the kiln. It retains its form, yes, but remains vulnerable. One torrential rain, and it will dissolve back into formless mud." With a decisive nod, Zhao declared, "Its fate too is fleeting and uncertain. I will not follow this path either."
Growing slightly exasperated, the Old Master presented one final possibility. "What then of the path of Action? Do you find appeal in the art of proactive engagement, of assertive action in the world?" Zhao's brow furrowed, his mind wrestling with the concept. "Enlighten me, Master. What does this entail?" The Old Master explained, "It encompasses a wide range of practices, from the manipulation of energy to the use of potent formulas, and even the consumption of rare and powerful supplements." Once again, Zhao posed the inevitable question, his voice barely a whisper. "And does immortality lie at the end of this road?" A wave of the hand dismissed the very notion. "To pursue immortality through this path," the Old Master declared, "is akin to grasping at the moon reflected in water." Zhao's confusion deepened. "Master, please, explain yourself! How is this like grasping at the moon in water?" The Old Master patiently illuminated. "The moon hangs high in the heavens, a beacon in the night sky. Yet, its image shimmers on the surface of the water below, a tempting illusion. One can reach, one can strive… but the moon itself remains unattainable. One's efforts will ultimately yield nothing but empty hands." His mind now made up, Zhao spoke with unwavering conviction. "Then I will not learn it! That is not the path for me."
At this, the Old Master's patience snapped. With a sharp, guttural sound, he leaped down from the platform, his movements betraying a surprising agility for his age. A ruler, usually a symbol of authority, was now brandished as a weapon. He pointed it directly at Zhao, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and frustration. "You… you insufferable rascal! You reject this and dismiss that! What, pray tell, do you want?" Striding towards the bewildered student, the Old Master swiftly struck Zhao's head three times. Then, in a theatrical display of dismissal, he turned his back, placed his hands behind him, and strode purposefully inside, slamming the central door shut, leaving the assembled disciples in stunned silence. A collective gasp rippled through the courtyard. Fear and resentment mingled in their eyes as they turned towards Zhao, their expressions a silent accusation. "You reckless fool!" their faces seemed to say. "The Master offered to share his profound wisdom, and you repaid him with stubborn refusal and insolent argument! Now, because of your actions, who knows when we shall next receive his guidance?" The courtyard, once a place of learning and contemplation, now buzzed with whispered complaints and thinly veiled contempt. Yet, amidst the rising tide of disapproval, Zhao remained strangely unperturbed. A faint smile played upon his lips, and his eyes held a knowing glint. While others raged and resented, he stood calmly, absorbing the moment.
That evening, Zhao eagerly anticipated the arrival of night. The day stretched endlessly as he performed his duties, a sense of suppressed excitement humming beneath his calm exterior. At last, as the first stars began to pierce the darkening sky, he joined his fellow disciples for the night, feigning sleep while his mind raced with anticipation. The mountain air was still, the only sounds the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hooting of an owl. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, each moment an agonizing wait. Without the familiar chime of a clock or the measured beat of a drum to mark the passage of hours, he relied on his own internal sense of rhythm, carefully regulating his breath, patiently waiting for the appointed hour to draw near. And then, finally, it arrived. Sometime around midnight, a subtle shift occurred. An inner voice whispered, Now.
With the utmost care, Zhao rose from his bed, his movements as silent as a shadow. He donned his simple clothes, his heart pounding in his chest. Slowly, cautiously, he crept towards the main door, his senses on high alert. He gently eased it open, slipping out into the moonlit courtyard, leaving the sleeping disciples undisturbed. Above him, the night sky stretched endlessly, a tapestry of twinkling stars.
The moon hung high, casting long, ethereal shadows. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. All was still, save for the whisper of the wind. Fireflies danced in the darkness, their fleeting lights like tiny beacons in the vast expanse. It was, without a doubt, the perfect moment to seek enlightenment.
Following the path he had trod so many times before, Zhao made his way towards the back of the courtyard. There, nestled amongst the trees, he found the door slightly ajar, a silent invitation into the heart of the Old Master's sanctuary. A surge of hope coursed through him. He truly means to impart his wisdom to me! he thought, his heart swelling with gratitude. With bated breath, he slipped through the opening, his body tense with anticipation.
He moved through the silent house, his footsteps muffled by the woven mats that lined the floor. Finally, he reached the Old Master's private chamber. There, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, he saw the Old Master's sleeping form. He knelt before the bed.
After some time, the Old Master woke up, murmuring:
"Difficult! Difficult! The Dao is mysterious. Do not treat the golden elixir lightly. Without the guidance of a master, all words are in vain."
Zhao responded, "Master, I have been kneeling here for a long time." The Old Master, hearing Zhao's voice, got up, put on his clothes, sat cross-legged, and shouted, "You rascal! Why aren't you sleeping in the front but coming to my back?" Zhao said, "Master, you agreed in front of everyone yesterday to teach me the principles from the back door at midnight. That's why I dared to come to your bed." The Old Master was very happy and secretly thought, "This fellow is indeed born with talent. Otherwise, how could he have understood my hidden message?" Zhao said, "There are no others here. Only me. Please have mercy and impart the path to immortality." The Old Master said, "Since you have such an opportunity, I will be happy to tell you. Now come closer and listen carefully. I will pass on the magic formula for immortality to you."
Zhao bowed and thanked him, then knelt. The Old Master said:
"The true secret of all things lies in preserving essence, qi, and spirit. Guard them carefully. With my teachings, you will flourish and grow, and if you put them into practice, you will be purified. Good luck to you, and with cultivation, you will achieve true immortality."
Having said this, Zhao bowed deeply to the Old Master and went out the back door. Zhao then headed to his room, where he lay still and silently waited for dawn, and when it arrived, he acted as if nothing had happened.
Three years went by. The Old Master ascended the platform again and began to lecture. Suddenly, he asked, "Where is Zhao?" Zhao stepped forward and knelt. "What have you been cultivating recently?" Zhao answered, "Master, recently, my understanding has improved, and my roots are gradually solidifying." The Old Master said, "Now you must prepare for the three calamities."
Hearing this, Zhao was silent for a long time. "Master's words are wrong. I have heard that great virtue is as long-lived as the heavens; water and fire are in harmony, and all diseases are eradicated. Why are there three calamities?" The Old Master said, "This is an extraordinary path that seizes the creation of heaven and earth and invades the mysteries of the sun and moon. After the elixir is formed, the ghosts and gods cannot tolerate it. Although it prolongs life, after five hundred years, the heavens will send down a thunder disaster to strike you. You must see your nature and clear your mind and avoid it in advance. If you can avoid it, you will live as long as the heavens. If you can't avoid it, you will die. After another five hundred years, the heavens will send down a fire disaster to burn you. This fire is not heavenly fire, nor is it mortal fire. It is called 'yin fire.' It will burn from the Yongquan acupoint under your feet straight through the Niwan Palace. Your internal organs will turn to ashes, your limbs will decay, and your thousand years of hard work will be in vain. After another five hundred years, a wind disaster will blow you away. This wind is not the east, south, west, or north wind, nor is it the gentle wind. It is called '贔風.' It will blow into the six internal organs from your Baihui acupoint, pass through your Dantian, penetrate the nine orifices, your flesh and bones will dissolve, and your body will disintegrate. Therefore, you must avoid it."
Zhao was terrified and bowed and said, "I hope that the Old Master will have compassion and pass on the method of avoiding the three disasters. I will never forget your kindness." The Old Master said, "This is not difficult, but you are different from others, so I cannot pass it on." Zhao said, "I also have a round head, square feet, nine orifices, four limbs, five internal organs, and six fu organs. How am I different from others?" The Old Master said, "Although you look like a person, you are missing something." Zhao reached out and touched his face, "Master, I may be missing that, but I have a bag for wisdom, which should compensate." The Old Master said, "Very well, which form do you wish to learn? There is one form, called the Heavenly Dipper number, which has thirty-six transformations. There is another form, called the Earthly Fiend number, which has seventy-two transformations." Zhao said, "I want to learn the Earthly Fiend number transformation." The Old Master said, "Come forward, and I will pass on the incantation to you." He whispered in his ear, not knowing what wonderful method he said. Zhao mastered the incantation, practiced it himself, and mastered all seventy-two transformations.
One day, the Old Master and all the disciples were playing in front of the courtyard. The Old Master said, "Zhao, have you succeeded?" Zhao said, "Thanks to the Master's great kindness, I have completed my training and can ascend to heaven." The Old Master said, "Try to fly and show me." Zhao showed off his skills, shrugged his shoulders, did a somersault, jumped five or six feet off the ground, stepped on the clouds and went less than three miles away, and returned to the front, bowing and said, "Master, this is flying?" The Old Master laughed, "This doesn't count as flying, just climbing clouds. It is said that 'a god travels to the North Sea in the morning and to Cangwu in the evening.' You can't travel three miles in half a day." Zhao said, "What is 'traveling to the North Sea in the morning and to Cangwu in the evening'?" The Old Master said, "Those who fly on clouds start from the North Sea in the morning, travel through the East Sea, the West Sea, and the South Sea, and then return to Cangwu. Only when you have traveled all over the seas in one day can it be considered flying on clouds." Zhao said, "This is difficult." The Old Master said, "Nothing is difficult in the world for those who put their heart into it." Zhao bowed and asked, "Master, please have great compassion and pass on the method of flying on clouds to me. I will never forget your kindness." The Old Master said, "All gods fly by jumping up, but you are not like that. I just saw you jump up after somersaulting. I will pass on the Somersault Cloud to you based on your momentum." Zhao bowed and begged, and the Old Master passed on an incantation: "Clench your fists, shake your body, and jump up, and each somersault will travel hundreds of miles."
That night, Zhao practiced the Somersault Cloud. He became free and unfettered.
One day, as summer arrived, everyone was discussing their learnings under the pine trees. The disciples said, "Zhao, what fate did you cultivate in your previous life? The other day, the Master whispered to you and passed on the method of avoiding the three disasters. Have you learned it all?" Zhao smiled and said, "To tell you the truth, firstly, it was the Master's teaching, and secondly, it was my diligence day and night. I have learned all those things." Everyone said, "Take advantage of this good time and show us." Hearing this, Zhao shook his spirits and showed off his skills and said, "Everyone, give me a topic. What do you want me to transform into?" Everyone said, "Transform into a pine tree." Zhao pinched the magic formula, chanted the spell, shook his body, and turned into a pine tree.
The disciples clapped and laughed, all saying, "Good scholar!" The noise disturbed the Old Master. The Old Master came out and asked, "Who is making noise here?" Hearing the call, everyone hurried forward. Zhao also revealed his true form and mixed in the crowd and said, "I am here to teach you."
The Old Master was angry and shouted, "You people are making a lot of noise, not at all like cultivators! People who cultivate, their mouths open and their spirits scatter, their tongues move and right and wrong arise, how can they laugh here?"
The Master said, "All of you are to stand at attention!" And then he called out, "Zhao, come here! And let me ask you what is all this craziness, turning into pine trees and whatnot? Is this skill fit to flaunt in front of other people? If you see that other people have this ability, won't you ask them for it? And if other people see that you have it, won't they invariably ask it of you? If you fear misfortune, then you must teach them; and if you don't teach them, then they will certainly harm you: And even then you cannot protect your own life!" Zhao kowtowed and said, "I can only hope that Teacher will forgive my offense."
The Old Master said, "I will neither punish you, but merely send you on your way." Zhao, upon hearing this, began to tear up and said, "Teacher, where shall I go?" The Old Master replied, "Return to wherever it is that you came from is where you must go!" Suddenly, Zhao came to a realization and said, "I came from the village!" The Old Master said, "Hurry up and return there, so as to preserve your life; for if you remain here, that can by no means occur!" With a look of guilt on his face, Zhao offered a formal request to the Teacher, saying, "I have also been gone from home now for twenty years, and although I do indeed look back in thought on my sons and grandsons in the past, still, I cannot bear to abandon my Teacher's great kindness before it has been repaid!" The Old Master said, "What talk is this of repaying any kindness? If you merely avoid causing any trouble and refrain from implicating me, that will be enough."
As Zhao saw that there was no way to avoid it, he was only left with paying his respects and bidding his farewells, and also took his leave of everyone else. The Old Master said, "Your departure will certainly be fraught with evil consequences; but regardless of whatever mischief and outrages you commit, you must not so much as mention that you are my disciple. If you should utter half a word about it, I will be aware of it, and will flay the skin from you, grind your bones to powder, and consign your spirit to the Place of Utmost Depths, ensuring that you will never be able to turn yourself over again for ten thousand kalpas!" Zhao said, "I absolutely would not dare to make any mention of Teacher in the slightest, and will only say that I was able to master those skills all by myself."
Zhao gave thanks, and then immediately pulled himself together; and pinching his fingers in a conjuring gesture and flinging a bounding leap, he shot away on his Somersault Cloud, heading directly back to his village.
Having reached his home, Zhao found a small community struggling against famine and bandits. He then used what he has learned to bring aid to his community.