Liu Yao: The Revitalization of Fuyao Sect Volume 1 Chapter 2

Cheng Qian left with Muchun Zhenren.

Muchun Zhenren was thin and emaciated in a tattered hat, just like three sticks propping a head. He led Cheng Qian by the hand, like the ringmaster of a traveling troupe leading his newly recruited actor.

Although Cheng Qian remained a child in appearance, he already had a heart of a young man.

He walked in silence, but he couldn’t help looking back in the end.

There, he saw his mother, carrying a basket on the back and face blurred by tears. He saw his younger brother, fast asleep in that basket. He saw his father as well, standing silently in the shadow, eyes fixed on the ground as if he was sighing.

Cheng Qian drew back his sight quickly as there was nothing to be nostalgic about. The road ahead was uncertain just as the boundless dark.

Basically, there were two ways of journeying. One was called "traveling", the other was called "roaming".

Following his master, Cheng Qian was drowned in heresies and sophistries, not to mention he had to eat in the wind and sleep in the dew, which was even worse than "roaming".

Speaking of cultivation and seeking Tao, Cheng Qian had heard a little about it.

There was once an excessive number of whimsical people following the trend of cultivating and seeking Tao.

During the late emperor's reign, sects big or small began to spring up all over the country like mushrooms. Any Tom, d.i.c.k or Harry, as long as he was blessed with descendants, would use all his connections to get his kids into those sects for the purpose of cultivation. Nevertheless, besides some tricks like "breaking the stone on one's chest", it was never heard that anyone had made real achievements.

At that time, there were more alchemists than cooks, more people chanting than farming, to such an extent that for years there was n.o.body reading books or practicing martial arts, giving rise to charlatans who didn’t work.

Allegedly in the heyday of cultivation, as many as twenty sects were set up in only a county, while a county was no more than ten Li from east to west. They would collect ill-gotten wealth and recruit disciples in the name of cultivation, with some fake books on cultivation methods bought from peddlers.

G.o.d knows whether the Heavenly Gate [1] could hold them or not, if such people all ascended to immortality.

Even bandits would like to join in the tide. They changed their gang names from "Black Tiger Gang" and "Hungry Wolf a.s.sociation" to "Breeze Temple" and "Profundity Hall". What was more ridiculous, they would play tricks like "fetching from boiling oil" and "fire breathing" before mugging, and the victims often got so scared that they would be robbed voluntarily.

The late emperor was primarily a soldier with short temper. He felt that at this rate, the country would collapse most surely. Thereupon, he issued an edict that all "immortals" rampaging through the countryside, whether true or fake, be arrested and banished to the military.

But before the world-shaking edict had found its way out of the palace, ministers of the imperial court got wind of it. They were shocked out of bed and queued up in front of the audience hall overnight — low-ranking officials in the front and high-ranking officials at the back, getting themselves ready to crash into the pillars before the hall. They were determined to admonish the emperor at the risk of their lives, lest he offend the immortals and ruin the longevity of the dynasty.

The emperor, of course, wouldn’t possibly have them die such a tragic death. Besides, the Dragon Pillars might not bear the impact.

The late emperor was forced to revoke the edict. The next day, he ordered Bureau of Astronomy to establish a new branch called "Office of Heaven's Divination", and invited several genuine immortals to take charge. Furthermore, he stipulated that from then on, all sects, big or small, could recruit disciples on condition that it had been authorized by Office of Heaven's Divination and received an iron plaque as verification. Founding a sect without permission was forbidden.

Certainly, in such a great and impressive country as stretched across nine states, it was almost impossible for every order to be enforced strictly. Those one-size-fit-all decrees couldn’t, let alone such relaxed rubbishing edict.

On one hand, the imperial court had been occupied with mopping up robbers and kidnappers, how could they spare time to mind those sect business?

On the other hand, true immortals took no notice of the emperor. They were bound up in their own affairs as before. Only charlatans restrained themselves a bit, but very limitedly — it wasn’t impossible to forge those iron or copper plaques, anyway.

Fortunately, the late emperor's efforts weren’t completely wasted. After repeated checks and eradications, the pa.s.sion for cultivation among the people was reduced significantly. Additionally, since it was never heard that anyone had made remarkable achievements, people went back to farming and shepherding overtime, instead of building castles in the air.

When the present emperor ascended the throne, although the popularity of cultivation was still lingering on with its last breath, the mania had already died. The emperor knew very well the princ.i.p.al that fish do not come when the water is too clear [2]. So he turned a blind eye to those swindlers in the name of cultivation. The officials wouldn’t investigate as long as n.o.body reported.

Cheng Qian had heard those stories form the old Tongsheng before. So in his eyes, the wooden club leading him was no more than a wooden club… or at best a wooden club that provided meals, with nothing respectable.

Stroking his droopy mustache, club-like Muchun started talking nonsense, "Our sect is named 'Fuyao [3]'. Do you know what Fuyao is, little creature?"

The old Tongsheng hated such things bitterly, and naturally wouldn’t waste his breath on it. As he was Cheng Qian's first teacher, Cheng Qian was more or less influenced by him. Therefore, although he was full of disdain for Muchun, he pretended to be listening grudgingly.

Muchun lifted his hand up and pointed somewhere in front of Cheng Qian. Magically, a sudden blast of wind sprang up from out of nowhere, whirling withered gra.s.s up to the sky. There was a sharp line of yellow on the blade of the gra.s.s, lightened by a lightning cracking across the sky, which almost dazzled Cheng Qian’s eyes.

The young lad was flabbergasted at the weird scene.

Muchun froze too, as he himself didn’t expect that. But seeing that this brat who was friendly in appearance but estranged at heart was bluffed, he took advantage of it and withdrew his hand.

He tucked his hands in opposite sleeves and started parading his knowledge contentedly, "When the roc travels to the Southern Ocean, it flaps along the water for three thousand Li, and then it soars upon a whirlwind to a height of ninety thousand Li, for a flight lasting six months [4] — with no shape or restraint, circling with the wind, coming from the deep sea and going up for the boundless sky, this is 'Fuyao', understand?"

Of course Cheng Qian didn’t understand. In his tiny heart, the awe of supernatural forces tangled inseparably with his disapproval for crooked tricks. At last, he nodded confusedly with disapproval as well as respect for his master, setting Muchun at the same place as the shabby lamp in his home.

Muchun stuck his mustache up complacently and was about to go on talking when he got a slap in the face — after the rumble of thunder, a strong wind whizzed along, putting out the bone fire before them, and then began to blow fiercely. Thunders together with lightning were exercising their voices like singers, conspiring to call the clouds with ill intent from the west.

Muchun forgot to play tricks any more, and called out promptly, "d.a.m.n! It’s going to rain!"

With that, he bounced to his feet. With one hand carrying their luggage on the shoulder, the other hand lifting Cheng Qian, he moved his reed-like legs and made off taking quick short steps like a long-neck pheasant.

Unfortunately, the downpour came so swiftly that it was difficult for even a long-neck pheasant to escape from becoming a soaked pheasant.

Muchun stripped off his drenched robe, and covered the little boy in his bosom with it. But that was merely better than nothing. "Oh, d.a.m.n it! What heavy rain! I got to find a shelter." He exclaimed as he ran.

Throughout his life, Cheng Qian would ride many birds and beasts for traveling in the future — but this was the b.u.mpiest and most talkative one, without a doubt.

The sounds of wind, rain and thunder mixed up with his master's noise. Under the shelter of the robe, Cheng Qian could hardly see anything, but he smelled an indescribable scent of wood from it.

His master held him before the chest with one hand and covered his head with the other. This old man was all skins and bones, thus hurt him a lot. Whereas, his bosom and protection were by no means false display of affection.

Somehow Cheng Qian was willing to get close to him despite the fact that the long-neck pheasant was talking big and playing tricks on him just a moment ago.

Draped in Muchun’s robe, Cheng Qian timidly peered through the c.h.i.n.k in the cloth at his master, who was soaked through in the rain. For the first time in his life, he had enjoyed the treatment that a kid deserved. He soared for a short while and recognized this unreliable man as his master willingly. He even made up his mind — he would choose to forgive him even if he had a mouthful of nonsense and heresies.

Riding his skinny master, Cheng Qian finally arrived at a dilapidated temple.

The ma.s.s "eradication" during the late emperor's reign had purged many unauthorized sects, but some temples of those sects survived and became rest places for homeless beggars and travelers who missed their lodgings.

Cheng Qian popped his head out of Muchun’s robe, and immediately caught sight of a clay joss enshrined in the temple, by which he was startled — it had a hard-featured look, with a round face and no neck, blusher applied to both cheeks, hair drawn into double tight buns, a fierce-looking mouth and a creepy smile showing its uneven teeth.

Master saw it too. He hurried to cover Cheng Qian's eyes with his hand, and criticized furiously, "How could you have the cheek to enjoy offerings when dressing in such a lewd and vicious manner! The nerve of you!"

Due to his young age and very limited knowledge, Cheng Qian got stunned as well as confused.

"To cultivate, one is ought to purify his spirit, reduce his desires, and be prudent in his words and deeds. How disgraceful it is to dress up as an opera actor!" Said Muchun sternly.

He should know the word "disgraceful" … Cheng Qian was considering rea.s.sessing him now.

At the very moment, a smell of meat wafted over from the back of the temple, and interrupted the "pure-spirited" mater's tirade.

Muchun swallowed involuntarily and failed to continue his words. With an expression of confusion, he took Cheng Qian to the back of that joss, and a beggar who looked a little older than Cheng Qian showed up there.

It turned out that the beggar somehow managed to dig a hole at the back of the temple, and was roasting a Beggar's Chicken [5] in it. He smashed the caked mud wrapping the chicken, and the whole temple was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with the scent.

Muchun swallowed once more.

Things would be quite inconvenient when one was as scrawny as him. For example, when the hunger struck, it’s uneasy to conceal his instincts as the craning thin neck would give him away.

Muchun laid Cheng Qian down, and then showed his little apprentice what "cultivators must be prudent in his words and deeds" meant.

He wiped off the water on his face first, and put on a graceful smile like a genuine immortal. After that, he drifted over to the beggar unhurriedly taking tottering lily steps, then he started his lengthy luring speech in Cheng Qian’s presence. He sketched an image of a sect beyond the sea, where people wore gold and silver jewelries with no worries about food and clothes. Unbelievably, it worked! His sweet words stimulated the little beggar's interest.

Facing the beggar who had a big head and small body, Muchun continued sweet-talking him with fervor, "As far as I can see, you're blessed with great endowments. You can soar up to the sky and dive deep to the sea one day, and I see great fortune in you — boy, what’s your name?"

Cheng Qian felt that his words sounded strangely familiar.

Sly though the little beggar was since he had lived a vagabond life, he was ultimately so young that he was easily lured. With a snotty nose, he answered innocently, "Xiaohu. I don’t have a surname."

"Well then, I'll surname you Han, the same as mine." Stroking his mustache, Muchun confirmed their master-apprentice relationship very naturally, "As to the name, how about the single character — Yuan?"

Cheng Qian, "…"

Han Yuan [6], suffering an injustice… that was indeed an auspicious and joyous name.

Master must have been ravenous, so he spoke without measuring his words in face of the well toasted Beggar's Chicken.

[1] Heavenly Gate: the entrance from the Mortal Realm to the Heavens.

[2]: A Chinese proverb which means "one should not demand absolute purity".

[3] Fuyao: a whirlwind from the pa.s.sage Xiaoyao You.

[4]: A quote from Xiaoyao You.

[5] Beggar's Chicken: a whole chicken roasted in caked mud.

[6] Han Yuan: the p.r.o.nunciation of this name is the same as "suffering an injustice" in Chinese.