The "Maoshan Sect" I'm about to talk about is the one currently found in Guangdong, Guangxi, Jiangxi, Zhejiang, Fujian, and Hong Kong. In reality, they do not originate from the "Three Mao" or from Laozi (Li Laojun), but rather from several small sects that evolved from the White Lotus Sect during the Qing Dynasty.
When people mention the White Lotus Sect, they often think of sorcery and rebellion. However, by the Qing Dynasty, most of the White Lotus Sect had gone underground and seldom engaged in political struggles. A large part of it had already transformed into a common faith.
Among these, the "Qinglian Sect" was the most skilled in magic. Historically, its leaders were said to be proficient in the "Qi Men Dun Jia" (a type of Chinese geomancy) and versed in transformation magic. Many followers were skilled in using talismans and incantations, and would often treat illnesses or dispel evil for the common people, earning a good reputation among them. One of the sect's specialties was invoking spirits to possess bodies—a technique they called "Shen Quan" (God's Fist). With just a bowl of clear water and some burning incense, the practitioner would draw symbols on the water and chant incantations. After drinking the water, the person would become possessed by a spirit, able to perform martial arts moves, with the technique known as "Shaolin Divine Boxing." Both men and women could learn this skill. This is why some branches of the "Maoshan" sect today still practice "Divine Boxing."
In the ritual diagrams of southern legal altars, you might see titles like "Shaolin Patriarch" or "Master of Shaolin Qing Sect," but these refer to the founders of this lineage, not the monks of the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song in Henan. Due to the need for secrecy, later generations simplified these titles in the ritual diagrams to "True Master of Shaolin" or "True Master of White Lotus," both of which clearly show the influence of the White Lotus Sect.
Because the sect's name was too conspicuous, the Qing government frequently hunted them down. As a result, they changed their name to "Maoshan." Why? Because one of the White Lotus Sect's leaders was named "Mao Ziyuan," and the word "Mao" in Maoshan resonated with this. That's the story behind the name change.
There's also another version: a different branch of the "Maoshan" sect claims that their founder was a monk named "Danzi." It seems odd for a monk to be the founder of a talisman and incantation-based sect, doesn't it? The legend goes that this monk was born from an egg that floated in the river, and he was endowed with supernatural powers from birth.
Not only was Danzi's birth unusual, but his fate was also extraordinary. It is said that he was taught the magic of the "Ruyi Book" by a master known as "Yuan Gong" from Mount Yunmeng. Yuan Gong was actually a white ape, the very one from the story "The White Ape Steals the Peach." This white ape was the guardian of the celestial "Ruyi Book," a text entirely dedicated to supernatural transformation methods, which were simple to learn and practice.
After teaching Danzi the contents of the book, Yuan Gong burned the text. With these skills, Danzi left the mountain and founded his own sect. Therefore, most sects practicing supernatural transformations, such as flying and disappearing, trace their origins to this "Maoshan." However, how exactly this sect got its name remains a mystery, though it clearly has strong ties to the magic of Mount Yunmeng.
These stories have formed the various branches of the Maoshan sect that exist today.
Strictly speaking, the orthodox Maoshan sect only refers to a single lineage of Zhengyi Taoism. However, the lineage of Zha Wenbin could be considered an offshoot, with many connections to Zhengyi. As war and conflict ravaged the land, Chinese Taoism gradually fractured, and those truly knowledgeable in Taoism became exceedingly rare. Even those with superficial knowledge now dare to call themselves masters, offering feng shui readings and performing rituals. Today, Taoists and Taoist temples have largely transformed into professions and tourist attractions, with few truly dedicated to cultivating the Tao.
Returning to the story. That afternoon, my father brought his tools and accompanied Zha Wenbin to the General's Temple. After breaking the bronze lock, the hall, sealed for who knows how many years, was opened to the world again. A suffocating stench of mold filled the air, forcing the two to cover their noses. Looking around, aside from the large red-lacquered coffin in the center of the hall, there was nothing else. Even in daylight, the scene was eerie enough to send chills down one's spine.
Zha Wenbin led the way inside. When he noticed the murals on the walls, he seemed a bit surprised. After pondering for a while, he shifted his gaze to another wall—the one covered in the strange symbols I had seen before. He stared at it for the entire afternoon, as if in deep meditation. My father, watching from the side, didn't dare interrupt and just stood quietly. As the sun set, Zha Wenbin finally turned around and said, "Let's go!"
My father didn't ask many questions. Zha Wenbin told him to lock the door again and gave him a talisman to place on the temple's gate. He also instructed my father to keep an eye on me and not let me wander around, saying he would return in a few days. After that, Zha Wenbin disappeared for three days. During those days, I seemed to improve; I could eat a little, giving my mother hope. She prayed to the Buddha for my recovery every day. Three days later, Zha Wenbin returned to our home. After checking on me, he gestured for my father to step outside.
Zha Wenbin told my father that, based on his analysis, the General's Temple could have two origins. The first theory comes from an ancient text he found in a handwritten manuscript left by his master. It mentions the following: "The General's Temple, containing the statues of the Three Pure Ones and hidden auspicious beasts on the walls; generals, due to their excessive killing, turn into evil forces. They delight in bloodshed and create bloodshed spirits, adding to their own malevolent energy. Their blades absorb the souls of those they kill, causing the malevolence to seep into their blood and merge with their essence, often driving them to madness. Even the Dragon Energy of emperors could not suppress them, leading to their eventual execution."
Because of their