Chapter Six: The Monk

Outside the city of Nanhai, the moon hung high in a sparsely starred sky.

Bai Qiu was awakened by the alluring aroma of roasting meat. Upon waking, he found his injuries had vanished and his vital energy was fully restored, as if he had returned to his peak condition. He surmised that Shi Qi must have used the water healing technique on him while he was unconscious.

Bai Qiu rose and glanced behind him. There, by the glow of a campfire, Shi Qi was tending to a roast chicken.

“Have you started fasting?” Shi Qi asked, not turning his head as he noticed Bai Qiu’s awakening.

“I am a man who follows his heart and whims, hardly one for such ascetic practices. Come, let me have a taste!” Bai Qiu replied.

“You’re quick to claim the title of a free spirit, yet you haven’t even had a drink! Enough talk, bring out the wine,” Shi Qi retorted.

Bai Qiu drew two flasks of wine from his universe pouch, tossing one to Shi Qi.

Catching it deftly, Shi Qi took a hearty swig, tore a leg from the roast chicken, and tossed it to Bai Qiu.

“Have you broken through?” Bai Qiu asked, biting into the drumstick and following it with a sip of wine.

“Yes... Orange... I’ve reached the Golden Core stage.”

“Your combat prowess is truly rare; in my twenty years of life, I have never fought so satisfyingly. You are indeed a genius, Shi Qi, nearly my equal.”

“You, Bai Qiu, are a man of many tricks—as one would expect from a noble clan. Let’s not flatter each other further. Sparring with you is exhausting; it taxes the mind.”

“I may be unremarkable, but the Bai family’s Talismanic Evasion Technique is counted among the Ten Grand Arts; it is a source of pride.”

“Ten Grand Arts?” Shi Qi asked.

“You forget, Shi Qi, you are a wandering cultivator from Nanhai and unfamiliar with the affairs of the Central Continent. Allow me to explain,” Bai Qiu said, adopting the air of a learned sage. Shi Qi’s interest was piqued.

“The world is divided into twelve regions, with the Central Continent at the heart. To the south lies the Southern Continent, bordering the sea; to the east, the Eastern Continent, also coastal; to the north, the frigid Northern Continent; and to the west, the Western Continent, a land of rivers and endless deserts. These are the five great continents. Additionally, there are Anzhou, Qingzhou, Yunzhou, Yongzhou, Tuozhou, Youzhou, and Yanzhou—seven more regions.”

“The major sects of the world are divided into the righteous, the demonic, the heretical, and the neutral. The Five Great Righteous Sects are the Celestial Origin Sect, Thunder Mountain Sect, Thousand Crane Gate, Mystic Moon Palace, and the Daoist Temple of the Heavenly Way, with Cloud Purity Gate and White Feather Sect as prominent second-tier sects. The two great Demonic Sects are the Tyrant Emperor City and the Demon Sect. The heretical path is represented by the Ten Thousand Evils Sect, though it has long since vanished; any current heretics likely dwell beyond the twelve regions, for their cultivation runs counter to the will of heaven. The righteous follow the Primordial Scripture, harmonizing with heaven and humanity. Their progress may be slow, but their foundations are deep. The demonic cultivate fierce and aggressive arts, advancing quickly but risking instability and madness. Neutral sects include the Poison Dragon Cult, the Guanyin Monastery, Thunder Sound Temple, the House of the Learned, and the Mohist School.”

“As for the Ten Grand Arts, these are mystical techniques evolved from the core practices of each sect. My Bai family’s Talismanic Evasion Technique ranks eighth. Ninth is the Mohist School’s Mechanical Arts. Tenth is Thunder Mountain’s Five Elements Lightning. Seventh is Thousand Crane Gate’s Beast Taming Art. Sixth, Thunder Sound Temple’s Diamond Body, All Laws Are Void. Fifth, Celestial Origin Sect’s Divination Art. Fourth, Demon Sect’s Sword Evasion. Third, Mystic Moon Palace’s Formless Art. Second, Tyrant Emperor City’s Body Refinement Art. And the first...”

Bai Qiu paused.

Shi Qi pressed eagerly, “What is the first?”

Bai Qiu spoke solemnly, “Divine Thunder—the tribulation lightning that all cultivators, minor and great, must endure. This Divine Thunder is beyond the Five Elements, outside the Three Realms; wherever it strikes, all things are reduced to ash... However—”

Shi Qi prompted, “Yes?”

Bai Qiu took another bite of chicken, “It’s been lost for tens of thousands of years. No one alive has ever witnessed it.”

Shi Qi was left speechless.

“There are also the Ten Sacred Weapons, Ten Grandmasters, Ten Young Talents, and so on, but those tales are long and best saved for another time. I, the Learned One, am planning to compile the Annals of the Twelve Regions, recording all the latest news and oddities from across the world and distributing them widely.”

Shi Qi murmured, “The head of your house truly has far-reaching vision.”

“When it comes to gathering intelligence, my House of the Learned is second to none. Now, drink!” Bai Qiu declared.

Shi Qi replied, “Release your vital energy—you’re not allowed to use it to sober up.”

Bai Qiu laughed, “Whoever cheats is a cur!”

...

In the wild mountains of western Yunzhou...

This was a desolate region, uninhabited for hundreds of miles—a land of barren hills and wild forests.

Upon a mountain slope, two figures walked slowly: monks clad in plain gray robes, one old, one young.

“Master, how much farther must we go?” the young monk asked, trailing behind. He had delicate features, appearing eighteen or nineteen.

The old monk did not look back. “Yuanwu, how many years have you journeyed on foot with me?”

“Ten years, Master.”

“Hmm... another fifty, then.”

The young monk scratched his bald head. “Master, why don’t we use magic to travel faster?”

The old monk halted, turned, and patted the young monk’s head kindly. “We do not walk to make haste. Our founding patriarch once journeyed on foot for five hundred years, witnessing the joys and sorrows of the world, tasting all of life’s hardships, cultivating Zen and the heart amid worldly dust.”

“I understand, Master.”

Adjusting his bundle, the young monk continued to follow his master step by step.

As the sun set and dusk settled, they reached the foot of the mountain, searching for shelter. But in this wild land, there was no sign of habitation—only an abandoned courier lodge sat at the base of the mountain.

What is a courier lodge?

It is a place where corpse-walkers rest as they escort the dead home. Many who die far from their native lands cannot return on their own; these corpse-walkers bring them back so they may find peace and their souls return home.

The old and young monks pushed open the lodge’s door.

With a grating creak, the ancient, broken door groaned, sending a chill up the young monk’s spine.

They crossed the courtyard into the main hall, where a shattered statue of Zhong Kui stood in the center, flanked by rows of black coffins. Thick dust covered everything—the lodge had clearly been abandoned for years.

“Yuanwu, go collect some dry grass outside for a fire,” the old monk said.

“Yes, Master.” Sweeping the dust from the floor, the young monk set down his bundle and stepped outside.

Surveying the hall, the old monk murmured, “Poor souls, castaways in a foreign land. To meet is fate; let me guide you into the cycle of rebirth, freeing you from this lonely suffering.”

With that, he sat cross-legged, drew a string of prayer beads from his robe, closed his eyes, and began to chant softly, the words of the sutra indistinct.

From the coffins, wraithlike shadows began to rise—old men, children, men, and maidens—all drifting in the air, lost and uncertain.

“Come!” the old monk called out. A golden light radiated from him, and his chanting quickened.

As if seeing hope in the darkness, the spirits hastened toward him.

Behind the old monk, a golden portal opened, and the spirits floated through one by one.

“Thank you, Master...”

“Thank you, holy monk...”

“Thank you, venerable teacher...”

These were the souls of the departed; the old monk, with the power of the Dharma, was sending them into the wheel of reincarnation. Without his aid, in time, they would have faded to nothing or become lost and vengeful ghosts.

When the last soul had passed through, the old monk ceased his chanting.

Thump! Thump!

Suddenly, sounds came from one of the coffins. The old monk opened his eyes in astonishment and looked over...