Chapter 44: The Strange Old Man at the Taoist Temple

Before dawn at the Chou hour (1-3 AM), the disciples descended the mountain separately. Heeding prior instructions, they moved quietly without causing disturbance. Chen Qian and Chang Jinxin agreed to travel together, while Bu Shui'han led a group of disciples to Soul-shattering Mountain (荡魂山) as planned. Gu Pinglin, harboring secrets, chose not to bring many people. He privately contacted only two disciples—both reliable individuals he had observed closely.

Most disciples preferred not to join larger teams, as the search for the inheritance was inherently sensitive. With limited opportunities and many contenders, acting alone seemed better for testing their luck.

Under the lingering night and icy mountain wind, Gu Pinglin stood at the sect's gate. His black cloak fluttered incessantly, occasionally revealing the tips of his black boots. Fellow disciples paused to bid farewell as they passed, and he occasionally nodded in return.

The two others in his group were Jiang Ruoxu and Leng Xu. Jiang Ruoxu, with mediocre aptitude, appeared over forty and would likely only achieve the External Elixir (外丹) in his lifetime. Leng Xu was younger and had already reached the Third Cycle of Qi Refinement (炼气三转). Both stood behind Gu Pinglin, busy exchanging farewells.

Travel supplies were stored in pouches, leaving the disciples carrying nothing but the wind in their sleeves—a picture of carefree elegance. An hour passed unnoticed, dawn approached, and the mountain gate grew quiet once more.

Jiang Ruoxu stepped forward to remind him, "Junior Brother Gu, shall we depart?"

Gu Pinglin gazed ahead. "Wait a moment longer."

Leng Xu asked, "Are you waiting for someone, Junior Brother?"

Gu Pinglin gave a noncommittal "Hmm." After another cup of tea's time, the agreed moment arrived, but Duan Qingming still hadn't appeared. Unfazed, Gu Pinglin ordered their departure. The three soared into the sky on their swords.

The so-called Sea Realm (海境) was a mysterious secret realm deep within the Eastern Sea. The boundary between the cultivation world and the mortal realm was blurred, though mortals' eyes were often blocked by mountain-protecting arrays, hiding spiritual peaks and valleys. The journey to the Sea Realm was long, and flying by sword or levitation consumed too much energy. Cultivators typically rode mounts, but the Lingxin Sect had few golden eagles. Having recently emerged from seclusion, Gu Pinglin lacked the feather coins (羽币) to buy a mount, and feeding one with spirit grass or beast meat would incur further costs.

Unhurried, Gu Pinglin led the two on foot through the mortal realm. Along the way, they gathered herbs for alchemy, though ordinary mountains rarely housed large spirit beasts or fierce monsters, limiting their earnings. Occasionally, they aided households plagued by demons or ghosts, bolstering the Lingxin Sect's reputation.

Traveling by day and resting at inns by night, they reached Night City (夜城) after a month. Close to the Eastern Sea, Gu Pinglin planned to rest here. Instead of an inn, he took them to a local Lingxin Taoist temple.

Cultivation sects required vast resources to support disciples. Many established external ventures—herb gardens, medicinal shops, weapon forges—catering to traveling cultivators. As for Taoist temples: cultivators avoided meddling in mortal wars due to heavenly tribulations, but healing, exorcising demons, and ensuring peace were permissible. To mortals, such deeds were extraordinary, earning cultivators deep reverence. Nobles and royalty often patronized temples, though sects cared little for wealth; temples existed to build reputations. If no one knew a sect's name, who would send their children to join? Talent would flow elsewhere, undermining a sect's foundation.

The Lingxin Sect maintained a temple in Night City, managed by outer disciples. Those with poor aptitudes, often below Qi Refinement, were assigned to handle secular affairs. For them, stalling in cultivation meant securing opportunities for descendants and sect protection—still better than mortal lives.

Night City connected four major cities to the Eastern Sea, a strategic location where top sects had established temples. The Lingxin Sect's lesser fame led Gu Pinglin to expect neglect, but the reality surprised him: towering gates, spotless steps, freshly whitewashed walls, and occasional worshippers leaving—all signs of thriving incense offerings.

Two young acolytes, around ten years old, stood at the entrance, greeting guests with practiced courtesy.

"One spot reveals the whole leopard," Gu Pinglin mused. If even acolytes were so diligent, the abbot must be exceptional.

Leng Xu called out, "Acolyte! Summon your abbot to receive guests."

Visitors were common, but few spoke so imperiously. The acolytes exchanged a glance. One stepped forward, bowed cautiously, and asked, "May this humble one inquire from which immortal mountain the honored guests hail? Your titles, so I may announce you?"

Children mimicking solemn adults held a certain charm. The trio suppressed smiles. Just as Leng Xu prepared to announce them, a voice interrupted: "Acolyte! I seek temporary lodging (挂单, guàdān)!"

The speaker was an amiable old Daoist with black beard and hair, draped in earth-yellow robes—an image of transcendent grace.

Those seeking guàdān were usually cultivators not to be offended. The acolytes, well-trained, hurried down the steps to bow. "May we ask the honored master's name?"

Recognizing the newcomer, Gu Pinglin's heart jolted. He signaled Leng Xu to silence and shot the other two a look. They retreated discreetly beside departing worshippers. In mortal clothes, they escaped the old Daoist's notice.

The old Daoist smiled. "This humble Daoist is from the Flying Sword Palace (飞剑宫), surnamed Wang. Are there vacant rooms?"

Flying Sword Palace ranked among the Eight Great Sects. The acolytes straightened respectfully. One answered eagerly, "Honored Wang! Rooms are available. Please follow me."

"Clever lad." The old Daoist praised, ascending the steps. He glanced back casually.

Gu Pinglin said to the acolytes, "From the Zhao family. We bring offerings and request the abbot's assistance."

The Zhaos were Night City's wealthy. The acolyte smiled. "Honored Patrons Zhao, please follow me for tea."

Satisfied, the old Daoist followed the other acolyte to arrange lodging.

Gu Pinglin's trio entered. Inside:

A weathered bronze cauldron dominated the central courtyard;

Ancient stone lamps glowed in the fading light;

Incense curled ceaselessly before the Sanqing Hall;

A scent, neither floral nor woody, perfumed the air.

A few Daoists swept the steps. A young Daoist in his twenties, handsome and refined, stood nearby. Seeing the acolyte, he chided, "Quanzhi! Why are you inside?"

The acolyte Quanzhi halted and bowed. "Uncle Gan, these three are from Patron Zhao's family, seeking the abbot."

The young Daoist, Gan Li, had already noticed the trio. A flicker of doubt crossed his eyes as he bowed. "Honored guests, this humble Daoist Gan Li pays respects."

The name felt familiar. Gu Pinglin recalled it but remained expressionless, nodding slightly.

Gan Li paused, then instructed Quanzhi, "Inform the abbot, then." To Gu Pinglin's group, he said, "Honored guests, please take tea inside."

Gu Pinglin's lips thinned slightly as he followed to a side hall.

Clearly a reception area, the side hall held neat rows of black-lacquered chairs and tables. An ancestral portrait of the Lingxin Sect hung on the main wall, flanked by an altar with incense burners, candles, water bowls, and fruit offerings. At its center lay an unremarkable palm-sized black stone.

Gan Li seated them on the right chairs, taking the second seat on the left. After tea was served, he probed, "Might this humble one inquire your purpose?"

Leng Xu glanced at Gu Pinglin. "The matter is grave. We must discuss it with the abbot."

Gan Li remained unoffended. "You are not from the Zhao family, are you?"

Jiang Ruoxu asked, "How did you know?"

Gan Li replied courteously, "The abbot's health has declined in recent years. He entrusted temple affairs to me. Though untalented in the Dao, I grasp some basics. If urgent, perhaps share the matter with me first?"

So he managed the temple. Zhao family members would know this; the trio's request to see the abbot revealed their ignorance.

Gu Pinglin admired his astuteness but said languidly, "We'll wait for the abbot."

Gan Li's confusion deepened.

Gu Pinglin asked, "Is the abbot your great-grandfather?"

Gan Li started. "He is. You—?"

Footsteps sounded outside, cutting him off. An elderly man emerged from behind a screen.

White-haired and frail, his eyes clouded, his movements labored—clearly nearing his lifespan's end with no hope of breakthrough.

Gan Li rushed to support him, whispering briefly.

The old man's surprise showed. He smiled at the trio. "This old Daoist is Gan Min, abbot here. My aged legs hinder me; forgive my lack of welcome."

None rose. Gu Pinglin said, "Abbot Gan is too kind."

Their aloofness unsettled Gan Min, who remained standing. "Might these honored cultivators reveal their immortal mountain?"

Ignoring the question, Gu Pinglin walked to the altar. He pressed his left palm onto the black stone, channeling Lingxin Sect energy. The dull stone emitted a faint rainbow glow.

Gan Min stiffened, scrutinized it, then stepped back and bowed deeply. "An inner sect senior brother! Forgive this humble one's disrespect!"

Gan Li, realizing, hastily followed suit.

Hierarchy was inherent to sects; outer disciples ranked below inner ones. Without this order, discipline would collapse. Gu Pinglin accepted the bow and returned to his seat. "Fellow disciples need no formalities. Abbot Gan, sit."

Gan Min cautiously took a seat. "Might these senior brothers share their names?"

Jiang Ruoxu smiled. "I am Jiang. This is Junior Brother Leng." He paused. "This is Junior Brother Gu, a direct disciple of the headmaster. Surely you've heard of him?"

"Senior Brother Gu!" Gan Min's expression shifted. He nearly rose to bow again. "Your fame reached us days ago! To meet you is this old one's fortune!"

Gu Pinglin's modification of the sect's technique was public knowledge, even among outer disciples. Gu Pinglin waved off the courtesy. "We pass through and seek rest here for a few days. Arrange it, please."

Gan Min assented eagerly, though a flicker of disappointment crossed his face.

Noticing, Gu Pinglin sipped his tea and remarked casually, "Your great-grandson shows promise."