Apprenticeship Under the Master
The Tian Yun Continent spanned nine provinces, four barbarian lands, and three overseas islands, encompassing ten great nations and billions of common folk. Yet the most dazzling figures were not emperors or famed officials, but the legendary cultivators who pursued the immortal path. In these times, demons, monsters, and ghosts roamed freely, plaguing the people with endless disasters. Even the royal courts of various nations were powerless against them—only cultivators could stand against such threats. Thus, every nation supported a cadre of these practitioners to fend off the sporadic outbreaks of evil creatures.
Feng Wu City lay within the territory of the Great Ming Dynasty, which controlled the entirety of Feng Province—one of the nine provinces. The dynasty sponsored numerous cultivators, and Xuan Hu Guan stood as the city's guardian deity. Even the city lord treated Qing Feng Dao Zhang with utmost respect, never daring to slight him in the least.
Wei Yun had favored martial pursuits over scholarly ones since childhood, but how could mere mortal martial arts compare to the arts of immortality?
And so, Wei Xiao resolved to have Wei Yun apprentice at Xuan Hu Guan.
Yet he knew the sect's disciple selection was exceedingly strict. Xuan Hu Guan accepted only one apprentice each year, chosen from millions after meticulous screening.
Autumn had just set in, and the sect's recruitment ceremony loomed. Wei Xiao was determined to seize this chance for Wei Yun.
Feng Wu City and its surrounding villages held millions of souls, yet Xuan Hu Guan would select but one. Whether Wei Yun could stand out among them and catch Qing Feng Dao Zhang's eye remained a great unknown.
Still, Wei Xiao had prepared thoroughly and brimmed with confidence.
"Yun'er, it's time to go."
Wei Xiao stepped out the front gate and called to Wei Yun, who sat in the courtyard reading a book.
"Coming!"
Wei Yun tucked his copy of Records of Gods and Demons into his satchel and followed his father out.
Ever since encountering that fox spirit, Wei Yun had clutched Records of Gods and Demons morning and night, eager to learn more lest he be caught off guard next time. The jade pendant never left his side either.
Besides serving as a clue to his birth parents, the pendant had another vital use: warding off evil!
He had known this since childhood. What he didn't realize was that its power was finite—once the spiritual energy within was depleted, its protective effects would vanish.
A sturdy carriage waited at the door, with old servant Uncle Fu already in place.
The father and son boarded. Wei Yun bid farewell to his foster mother You Shi at the threshold, and Uncle Fu cracked the whip. With hooves clattering, the carriage rolled toward the city outskirts.
Inside, as buildings flashed past the window, Wei Xiao offered fatherly advice. But Wei Yun's mind wandered back to that fox spirit encounter—a brush with death, yet he'd emerged unscathed and even savored some carnal delights. His body had fully recovered now...
Just a pity about Brother He!
Before he knew it, the carriage halted—they had arrived at Xuan Hu Guan.
Wei Xiao gave a few final instructions. Wei Yun dismounted with his father and entered the temple.
A vast plaza fronted the temple gates, packed with folk from Feng Wu City and nearby villages, each leading their children to seek apprenticeship. But Qing Feng Dao Zhang's notice had been clear: only one would be chosen!
Amid crackling firecrackers, Wei Yun entered the main hall. At its center towered a grand golden statue of a Daoist immortal, the air thick with incense. Numerous devotees burned joss sticks and prayed.
For some reason, gazing upon the statue left Wei Yun faintly dizzy.
Wei Xiao clutched a small cloth bundle. Together they lit incense and bowed to the statue before proceeding to the rear hall—Qing Feng Dao Zhang's private quarters, off-limits to most. But as a frequent visitor, Wei Xiao gained entry.
There sat Qing Feng Dao Zhang in his profound black Daoist robes, exuding an otherworldly air despite his fifties; he appeared no older than forty.
The master was directing disciples when he spotted the pair. He brushed dust from his hands and approached with a faint smile. "Ah, Brother Wei. What brings you here today?"
Wei Xiao hurried forward. "My thanks again for the other matter, Dao Zhang. Hearing you're taking disciples once more, and with my boy so keen on cultivation, I've brought him to try his luck. If he makes it, wonderful; if not, there's always next year."
Qing Feng Dao Zhang eyed Wei Yun and smiled faintly. "Nephew Yun wishes to join the Dao? That's splendid. His features suggest fine aptitude across the board—strong prospects indeed. There are three trials ahead; he must seize the moment."
Wei Xiao nudged Wei Yun.
Wei Yun dropped to his knees. "If Uncle Master bids it, your nephew will give his all."
Qing Feng Dao Zhang offered a polite smile and moved to see them out when Wei Xiao slipped the cloth bundle into his hands, murmuring, "A small token—please accept it."
The Dao Zhang didn't take it, frowning slightly. "What is the meaning of this, Brother Wei?"
"A few days ago, while sourcing goods in the Great Ming capital, I chanced upon a down-on-his-luck Daoist hawking this. Useless to me, but perhaps useful to you, so I bought it."
He unwrapped the bundle.
Qing Feng Dao Zhang's eyes widened. "This...?"
His heart skipped. Inside lay several yellow, octagonal talisman-like slips etched with arcane patterns. To ordinary eyes, unremarkable—but from his vantage, they glowed with faint golden light.
Mortals might not know, but as abbot of Xuan Hu Guan, he recognized them instantly: spirit coins—the universal currency of the cultivation world!
On Tian Yun Continent, mundane gold and silver held little value to true cultivators, serving at best as alchemy fodder. Among practitioners, spirit coins reigned supreme.
These ancient relics were crafted solely by the Three Orthodoxies and Seven Sects, requiring substantial cultivation and secret arts—not unlike forging a magic treasure. Few could produce them.
Ranked from one to six, corresponding to cultivation realms—with one the lowest.
Cultivator realms ascended thus: Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, Dharma Manifestation, Tribulation Transcendence, Earth Immortal!
Each coin held the creator's true essence and mana. Beyond trade, their greatest boon was direct replenishment of one's own true essence. A rank-one coin could fully restore a Foundation Establishment cultivator's reserves—that was their true worth!
The three rank-one coins Wei Xiao offered could refill Qing Feng Dao Zhang's essence thrice. Why a beggar Daoist would trade them for mortal silver baffled him.
The abbot's pulse raced. Such treasures meant extra lives in a pinch, though single-use. In cultivation circles only, utterly unobtainable by mortals. He was stunned Wei Xiao possessed them. Though a cultivator himself, his modest strength barred him from elite circles, and he couldn't craft them. To him, priceless.
Xuan Hu Guan was one of countless subordinate temples to Medicine King Sect of the Three Orthodoxities and Seven Sects. Qing Feng Dao Zhang was merely an outer disciple, his talent limited. After learning minor spells, he'd been posted here, grinding thirty years to abbot. Spirit coins were beyond his reach—until now, from a mortal's hand.
"Well, Dao Zhang?" Wei Xiao pressed, sensing his interest.
Qing Feng Dao Zhang calmly accepted the bundle, a faint smile returning. "Then this poor Daoist shall humbly accept."
He knew it was a bribe—yet refusing would be folly.
"And my boy...?"
"Fear not, Brother Wei. Leave it to me." The abbot waved it off lightly. "As I said before, Nephew Yun is gifted, no mere pond fish. He'll surely pass Xuan Hu Guan's trials and become a disciple!"
Per Medicine King Sect orders, he selected promising seedlings yearly, training them here before sending the best for sect advancement. While sect entry demanded rigorous trials, local admission was his call.
Wei Xiao beamed—his son's apprenticeship was now assured. With a cultivator in the family, the Wei house would soar.
Dong... dong... dong...
Bell tones rang melodiously. On the plaza, Qing Feng Dao Zhang led over a dozen Daoists in incense and bows to the Medicine King Ancestor statue, commencing the disciple recruitment and trials.
Three trials: first, age under eighteen—past that, prime cultivation years were lost. Second, spirit roots—the finer, the greater talent and speed. Third, comprehension—the higher, the easier to grasp the Dao and evade cultivation tribulations.
Wei Yun queued with youths amid watchful parents as Qing Feng Dao Zhang sat on a rosewood throne, a yellow talisman in hand. Pressed to a brow, its glow brightened with superior roots and wit, dimmed with inferior.
One by one, youths failed. A few with promise were set aside for secondary screening.
Wei Yun's turn: the talisman flared brilliantly at first—Qing Feng Dao Zhang's eyes lit—then faded instantly.
He frowned. This aptitude... dicey.
"Wait over there."
"Yes, Dao Zhang."
Wei Yun stepped aside. Testing continued...
By noon, all were done. Disappointed families departed.
Secondary trials: most of the holdovers failed save one bright glow. Then Wei Yun again—the talisman stayed dim.
Qing Feng Dao Zhang inwardly groaned. He could force entry privately, but publicly? Wei Yun's glow paled against the others, especially the standout in hempen clothes.
Gritting teeth, he channeled true essence into the talisman. It blazed forth!
Onlookers gasped; accompanying Daoists marveled.
"Who is that kid? A genius!"
"One in a century..."
None suspected the cheat.
Thus, Wei Yun emerged victorious, the sole new disciple of Xuan Hu Guan that year. The rest slunk away with parents, dreams deferred.
Under witnesses, Wei Yun performed the apprenticeship rite, kneeling to Qing Feng Dao Zhang as master. He became the twelfth and junior-most Dao boy under the abbot.
From then, Wei Yun resided at Xuan Hu Guan, studying under his master. Wei Xiao departed content.
...
Daily life at Xuan Hu Guan: morning and evening chants, chores like cooking, farming, chopping wood, sweeping—all self-handled. But paramount: discoursing the Dao, refining qi, cultivating spells.
Qing Feng Dao Zhang taught seven arts from Medicine King Sect: Nourishing Qi Art for qi refinement; basic talisman drawing; basic pill refining; talisman sword combat; simple physiognomy and divination; rudimentary feng shui arrays; essential medical arts—for Medicine King excelled in healing.
Like others, Wei Yun learned them all. Mastery was personal.
Without years of immersion, none reached perfection. Even Qing Feng Dao Zhang excelled only in medicine and physiognomy, stalled at peak Foundation Establishment.
Yet ample for abbot of a minor temple.
Among disciples, eldest brother Zhang Zhi Ping, earliest and strongest, hit mid-Foundation Establishment, mastering talisman sword. Second brother excelled in feng shui arrays; third senior sister in talisman drawing. Each had specialties.
With Nourishing Qi Art in hand, Wei Yun cultivated relentlessly, beyond chants and chores. He knew internal qi was cultivation's foundation, dictating realm. The rest could wait.
Half a month in, no qi sensation stirred—anxiety gnawed.
That night, under moonlit plaza, Wei Yun sat in meditation.
"Twelfth Junior Brother, cultivating again?"
A gruff voice. Wei Yun rose to see burly mid-aged Zhang Zhi Ping entering, wooden sword in hand—fresh from talisman sword practice.
They shared interests, chatted easily. "Greetings, Eldest Brother."
"Any progress?" Zhang Zhi Ping grinned.
Wei Yun shrugged. "Not much, but I'll persist. Master's eye never errs."
"Don't lose heart!"
Zhang clapped his shoulder. "We all started slow. Nourishing Qi Art is Medicine King Sect's foundational method—solid, safe, if gradual. Took me half a year for first qi and meridian."
"Many thanks for the encouragement, Eldest Brother." Wei Yun bowed.
"Late now—rest. Tomorrow, firewood run to back mountain with me."
"Sure!"
Xuan Hu Guan sprawled over a hundred acres: halls, huts. Wei Yun had his own. Back inside, he slept soundly...