Liaozhai: Immortality Begins with Becoming Yan Chixia's Apprentice

Chapter 3 The Question of the Dao Heart

As the first faint rays of dawn pierced through the thick, leaden rain clouds with difficulty, casting their hazy light upon the dilapidated courtyard of Lanruo Temple, a figure staggered but resolutely made his way back to the temple gate along the muddy, steep mountain path.

It's Zhou Ning.

At this moment, he was almost unrecognizable as a human being.

The original blue robe was torn into tattered strips by thorns, and covered with mud and unknown dark green moss.

His exposed skin was covered with scratches, and his knees and elbows were bloody and mangled, marks left by countless slips and climbs.

His face was as pale as paper, and his lips were dry, cracked, and purple from dehydration and cold. Only his eyes, though bloodshot and exhausted, burned with an inextinguishable flame deep within them.

He practically crawled over the last threshold before crashing heavily onto the cold ground, splashing mud and water everywhere.

The heavy breathing echoed like a broken bellows in the empty hall.

He trembled, and with his last bit of strength, he raised his tightly clenched right hand and slowly opened it.

Nine vibrant green pine needles lay quietly in the palm of my hand.

On the tip of the needle, glistening morning dew condenses, reflecting a faint yet pure light in the dim morning glow.

The pine needles themselves seemed to carry a unique fresh scent of a mountaintop after the rain, which was completely out of place with the gloomy and gloomy atmosphere surrounding him.

He did it.

Despite being shrouded in bad luck and on the verge of physical collapse, he relied on his indomitable will to climb the treacherous peak and, before dawn, retrieved the nine pine needles covered in morning dew.

Yan Chixia remained seated in that corner, her eyes now open, quietly watching him.

His gaze fell on Zhou Ning's disheveled body, on his bloodied and mangled hands and feet, and finally settled on the nine pine needles covered with morning dew.

There was neither praise nor pity.

He simply stood up slowly, walked to Zhou Ning, and looked down at him as if examining an object.

"Why seek the Way?"

Four simple words, yet they seemed to contain an immense weight, suddenly pressing down on Zhou Ning, who had just struggled back from the brink of death.

This was not a casual question, but the final and most important test.

It is a matter of examining one's own heart that determines whether one is qualified to step across that threshold.

Zhou Ning's mind was a blur due to extreme exhaustion, and countless thoughts flashed through his mind instinctively:

Immortality and freedom from worldly strife?

With extraordinary abilities, and a knack for settling scores?

Even... fame and fortune, and protection for the family?

These are the most direct and genuine desires of ordinary people.

But as the words reached his lips, he looked into Yan Chixia's eyes, which seemed to reflect all illusions, and into the lingering eerie aura of the dilapidated ancient temple. He recalled the fear and helplessness he felt facing death the previous night, and the faint warmth of the inscription "Untouched by Evil Spirits" on the broken stele...

He abruptly suppressed all these frivolous thoughts.

He answered, breathlessly, in a hoarse, almost inaudible voice, enunciating each word clearly:

"I... do not seek immortality or carefree existence, nor do I seek... supernatural powers or fame and fortune."

He raised his head, sweat and mud mingling as he slid down his forehead, but his eyes were unusually clear and resolute:

"When I read books, I often feel that it is difficult to distinguish right from wrong in the world, and that the wickedness of people's hearts is even worse than that of demons and evil spirits."

One's own body...one often finds itself weak and powerless, and unable to find peace of mind.

Last night I witnessed the immortal slaying the demon, not to show off his power, but to rid the scourge of evil; I was moved by the righteous spirit emanating from the broken stele, not to display his divine power, but to protect the Way.

He paused, gathering his last strength, and though his voice was weak, it was firm and resounding:

"I seek the Way only to... distinguish right from wrong, and to... find peace of mind."

As soon as he finished speaking, the hall fell silent, save for Zhou Ning's heavy breathing and the fading sound of raindrops outside.

"Distinguish right from wrong, and seek peace of mind..."

Yan Chixia repeated those eight words in a low voice, his face still showing the same calm and composed expression.

But upon closer inspection, one can see that the last trace of scrutinizing frost in the depths of his eyes has quietly melted away.

He had seen too many seekers of immortality, power, and authority driven by these desires, most of whom had lost their way in the pursuit of power or perished in heavenly or human calamities.

The seemingly simple, even somewhat "pedantic" answer of "distinguishing right from wrong and seeking inner peace" actually touches upon one of the most essential core tenets of the "Tao."

Cultivate your mind.

This child has faced life-or-death trials and was not crushed by fear.

One should cherish a heart that yearns for the Way and not be misled by external things.

Perhaps, this rough gem of a man truly has the potential to be polished?

After a long silence, Yan Chixia slowly spoke, his voice still calm, but less cold:

"Remember your words today. On the path of spiritual practice, there are countless temptations and endless trials; never forget your original aspiration."

He nodded slightly:

"Rise. From this day forward, you are my... nominal disciple, Yan Chixia."

Disciple by name.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Ning was overwhelmed with joy and excitement, which instantly broke through his fatigue, causing him to tremble all over.

He struggled to get up and perform the apprenticeship ceremony, but collapsed again due to exhaustion.

Yan Chixia did not offer to help him up, but merely looked at his disheveled appearance and said calmly:

"The suffering of cultivation far surpasses what you have experienced today. The pain of the physical body is but a minor matter. In the future, there will be tribulations of the divine consciousness, disturbances of inner demons, the might of heaven and earth, and even... conflict among fellow practitioners and betrayal among relatives and friends. Every step could lead to death, the dissipation of one's cultivation, and the scattering of one's soul."

His gaze was sharp as a sword, piercing straight into Zhou Ning's heart:

"Zhou Ning, I'm asking you one last time..."

"Once you step through this door, there is no turning back. Will you regret it?"

Before the joy of newly gained recognition had subsided, a heavier and more cruel reality was already laid out before them.

Yan Chixia's words were not alarmist, but rather a stark revelation of the true nature of this path.

Zhou Ning lay prone on the cold ground, feeling the excruciating pain in his body and the trembling in his soul.

He recalled the several near-falls during his mountain climb, the excruciating pain of an invisible, chilling cold seeping into his very bones, and the thoughts that sustained him when he was on the verge of despair…

He struggled to lift his head, gazing at the sky outside the hall where the darkness was gradually being dispelled by the dawn. His gaze finally returned to Yan Chixia, and with his last ounce of strength, he clearly said:

"Disciple...has no regrets."

Yan Chixia stared at him for a moment, and finally, a very faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his perpetually icy face.

He turned and walked deeper into the hall, his voice drifting back:

"From today onwards, you will follow me in cultivation. First, heal your injuries, and tomorrow at dawn, come to the back mountain to find me. I will teach you the introductory mental method of 'Innate Qi'."

As Zhou Ning watched the receding blue figure, a sense of fulfillment and peace, unlike anything he had ever felt before, welled up within him.

He finally knocked on that door.

From this day forward, he will no longer be just a weak and helpless scholar.

He is Zhou Ning, a disciple of Yan Chixia.