Volume Eleven: The Serpent Spirit Chapter Six: A Visit to the Azure Sky Temple

When everyone returned to Zheng Wenhong’s home, without exception, they all went to wash up. Director Jia looked at the group in astonishment, speechless—what on earth had happened to them? They’d gone out to investigate, but now looked as if they’d fled some disaster.

“Brother Zheng, you can restart the banquet now. The matter here is basically resolved, so you can rest easy,” Yaoguang said, and walked toward the large tree in the backyard, wondering if the Snake Spirit had returned.

Arriving at the great tree, Yaoguang was taken aback. Before her stood a newly constructed, square little shrine. Its two carved wooden doors stood open, a small offering table placed before it, holding a spirit tablet, an incense burner, candles, fruits, eggs, and roast chicken. The tablet read: “Seat of the Zheng Family’s Guardian Spirit.”

“My, that was quick! Snake Spirit, now you can cultivate in peace,” Yaoguang called out to the tree with a smile. The little green snake slithered out from somewhere, entered the shrine, and then came out again, twining up to Yaoguang’s shoulder, flicking its tongue at her.

The Snake Spirit lowered its head from the tree. “This green snake is fated to be with you. We’ve already agreed—if you don’t mind, take it with you. This child has cultivated as well. In time, it will become something great.”

“I couldn’t ask for more. Thank you. Rest assured, I’ll take good care of it.” Yaoguang smiled at the green snake. “You’re a mischievous one. From now on, you’ll keep company with Xue’er.”

The green snake twisted its body happily.

Yaoguang returned to the front yard and saw Zheng Wenhong on the phone, looking delighted. After a while, he walked back over. “The banquet’s set for tomorrow. All of you must join in the festivities. You are honored guests of the Zheng family.”

“No problem. Tomorrow we drink without restraint,” Yaoguang replied with a laugh.

Early the next morning, Yaoguang was awakened by the noisy clamor outside. She got up and looked through the window—sure enough, the courtyard was already packed with people. The villagers really gave face; after all that had happened, not a single one was fearful or superstitious. Yaoguang washed up and stepped outside, only to realize, yet again, she was the last to rise. She sat in the corner of the courtyard, watching the lively scene.

At 9:18, firecrackers crackled outside the gate, signaling the start of the feast.

“Twin dragons coiling the pillars! The Zheng family isn’t ordinary, that’s for sure,” someone called, pointing at the two columns in the main hall.

Yaoguang glanced inside—it was still the white and black snakes. This time, hopefully, they wouldn’t be knocked unconscious again. She chuckled softly.

“They’ve ascended, they’ve ascended! Wonderful!” Cheers erupted from the crowd.

“They won’t be knocked out again this time, will they?” Chen Haixu joked.

“They shouldn’t be—otherwise, those two snakes are truly pitiful. Why are they always the ones who get hurt?” Jiang Yun replied, and the group burst into laughter over their tea.

The next morning, everyone bid farewell to the Zheng family and went directly to Bitianguan outside the city. Though those several Taoists had died, the matter needed to be clarified. What exactly was this so-called heretical path? Could there still be others at large? There was no telling.

At the gates of Bitianguan, they got out of the car. Guishan handed in a visiting card. After a short wait, a Taoist of lofty bearing descended the steps, leading them inside.

They were seated in the reception tea room. The Taoist spoke: “May I ask what guidance you seek from my master?”

Guishan wasted no time, taking out the seven waist tokens and laying them on the table. “Taoist, are these tokens issued to members of your temple?”

The Taoist picked up a token, and his expression changed dramatically. “Where did you get these?”

“They were found in an ancient tomb. The details are as follows…” Guishan began, but was interrupted.

“Please, all of you, follow me to see my master. Speak to him directly,” the Taoist said, rising and leading them quickly to a room behind the Hall of the Three Pure Ones.

Inside, an elderly Taoist was writing. “Master, these guests wish to see you. It concerns that matter from years ago,” the Taoist announced.

The old Taoist set down his brush, looking at Yaoguang and the others with surprise. He addressed the middle-aged Taoist: “Have you found those few renegades?”

“Master, the details are best asked of these guests,” the middle-aged Taoist replied.

“I am Xukong. Thank you all for your trouble.” Master Xukong saluted.

After Yaoguang and the others introduced themselves and exchanged greetings, they sat down. Yaoguang recounted everything that had happened at Dongshan in detail. “Upon seeing these tokens, I felt something was amiss and came to trouble you for an explanation. Please forgive us.”

“You’re too courteous,” Master Xukong replied. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “From your description, these were indeed disciples of Bitianguan.”

“Master, what exactly happened here?” Huo Mingkun couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s a long story. The elder you met was my senior brother. Years ago, we had a falling out over a philosophical question—whether the Dao is compassionate or indifferent. I believed the Dao is compassionate, he believed it is indifferent. Our debate dragged on for years; neither could convince the other. Time spares no one, and as we aged, my brother became convinced that those who cultivate the Dao should use their arts to pursue immortality. I believed that following the Dao’s natural course meant accepting the fate of the body. But he wouldn’t have it. At some point, he began resorting to unscrupulous means for his so-called ultimate dream—experimenting with ways to gain eternal youth. I warned him that true attainment meant letting go of this mortal shell during cultivation, but he was too obsessed. We quarreled bitterly, and he left in anger, taking several close followers with him. I tried to find him, hoping to keep him from going further astray, but he vanished without a trace. Not long ago, a few spirit butterflies returned with several spirit essences. Only then did I realize some of them had been exposed and punished for abetting evil. Such is the price of their misdeeds.”

“A few spirit butterflies returned with spirit essences?” Yaoguang interrupted in surprise, conjuring a spirit butterfly. “Was it like this?”

“Yes, exactly! But how—?” Master Xukong was astonished.

“To be honest, I released those spirit butterflies. Your disciples had colluded with the Ghost Sect to wreak havoc among mortals. While tracking the Ghost Sect, I encountered their fierce resistance. I had no right to judge them, so I merely took their spirit essences and handed them over to the authorities,” Yaoguang sighed.

“That’s as it should be. While pursuing their whereabouts, I too discovered their alliance with that so-called Ghost Sect—twisted and heretical. I suppose that’s how they sought their so-called immortality. Alas, self-inflicted sin cannot be escaped. This is retribution. You were kind to come and inform us,” Xukong said.

“Do you know that ritual array?” Yaoguang asked.

“Yes, it is a long-lost formation. It uses the corpses of those who died violently to bind spirits and refine them into malicious ghosts for the ‘po’. One’s own primordial spirit serves as the ‘hun’. Then, insects and venom are used to make elixirs to keep the body from decay. The fusion of soul and spirit boosts one’s power and halts physical decline, thus achieving both longevity and Daoist power. But such techniques are unimaginably cruel. After the fusion, blood is needed to sustain it—animal blood for the lesser, human blood for the superior. If they succeeded, they would become bloodthirsty living corpses,” Xukong explained.

“So that’s it. We inadvertently wiped out their entire operation?” Chen Haixu exclaimed, only to be silenced by a sharp look from Yaoguang—watch your words.

“My apologies, Master. He’s young and thoughtless,” Yaoguang quickly apologized.

“No need. Given the circumstances, your actions are understandable. They chose the crooked path and paid the price. Such is retribution,” Xukong sighed. “It is just as well; death brings peace, better than living to harm others. To think that Bitianguan, priding itself on righteousness, could produce such scoundrels—truly a misfortune for our house. I’m ashamed you had to see it.”

“You’re too kind,” Yaoguang replied, unsure what else to say. The matter was now clear; there was no reason to linger. The group rose to take their leave.

Outside Bitianguan, Yaoguang muttered, “The Ghost Sect again—like a lingering curse. Daoist Guixin, your heart must be shattered.”

“Why? My sect is long gone. I’m Guixin now, not Ghostbeard. What’s there to shatter?” Guixin waved his hand dismissively.

Yaoguang looked at his nonchalant manner and truly admired him. Well, this country excursion accomplished none of her intentions and brought only frustration. It was time to return home and get some sleep.