Wendao Palace had a dining hall.
As disciples in the Foundation-Building Stage could not yet forgo food, a meal was served daily at the mao hour*, and most newcomers gathered there.
(TN: 5-7 A.M)
One disciple picked up a grain of fresh rice. “Heard the news? Tomorrow at noon, there will be a Dao debate on the platform atop Jinxia Peak!”
His tablemate looked sullen. “What’s that to me? No matter how I train, I’m just fodder for a great sect.”
Another urged him, “Wen Ren-xiong, don’t be so downhearted. You’ve talent enough to make your mark here in Wendao Palace.”
“Make my mark? The divine path’s in decline. These days, talismans that summon a god require offerings of three beasts and five rites. I can’t afford that.”
“And a poor god’s no match for the ones bought with a fortune.”
“Sigh.”
Wen Renyi gave a heavy sigh, dipped his chopsticks in water, and idly traced a talisman on the table. The grain of rice immediately lost all spiritual energy, sprouting mould and rotting.
“This talisman should have made rotten wood bud, but you see? The world’s gone abnormal.”
Another voice cut in. “Why aren’t you partaking in decent food, and you lot are brooding over filth instead?”
Wen Renyi and the others frowned, turning to glare.
Xiaofeng and his companions sauntered over with bowls and chopsticks. One of them looked at Wen Renyi and snickered. “Careful, Xiaofeng-shixiong, you can’t say that aloud aaa.”
Wen Renyi tossed his chopsticks aside. “And I was thinking who it was? It’s Gou-xiong*.”
(*TN: gou means “dog:)
“You blind? This is Xiaofeng-shixiong!”
Wen Renyi gave a thin smile and arched a brow at his tablemate. “They say Gou-shixiong’s quite the master of clinging to the mighty. Who’d dare admit to the surname Gou in front of him?”
“Hahahahahahaha” The hall erupted in laughter.
Xiaofeng’s face remained composed, even gracious. “Gou?”
He smiled, letting his gaze sweep the hall, and strode a square step at a time. “I fought my way out of the Qingping Sect by daring to risk all and spend all. That’s how I rose, step by step. Today I’m at Foundation Building Stage; tomorrow I’ll reach the Spirit Void Stage; the day after, I’ll break through to the Original Void Stage, and keep watch over the road to immortality.”
“Bai-shijie’s given me a place in the Sutra Repository of Wendao Palace. Any of you have one? Can you even afford it?”
The crowd quieted, faces changing. A quota they could barely dream of had been handed to him.
Wen Renyi’s expression cooled; he spoke in a tone half-sigh, half-mockery. “Then I congratulate Gou-shixiong on his rise.”
Xiaofeng crossed his legs and sat. “Only Daoist scriptures that lead to immortality are true scripture. Don’t be fooled by false ones. Could we learn from the likes of Chen Zongping?”
Silence. Xiaofeng toyed with his teacup. “Tomorrow, when Eldest shijie debates with the new disciple, make sure you know…… which side you’re on.”
Wen Renyi’s tablemate flicked him a look. “Shall we leave?”
Wen Renyi rose. “Lost my appetite. Let’s go.”
The three of them left, and the dining hall buzzed into life again. Before long, more people emerged, greeting one another as they passed.
Wen Renyi said, “Fellow Daoists, where are you headed?”
A female cultivator, expression cold, carried a large sabre on her back. “To the Dao Discussion Platform atop Jinxia Peak to guard Xue-shixiong against any mischief tonight.”
Wen Renyi replied, “The three of us share that intention.”
Immediately, the group felt a bond of unity. All had listened to the Dao at the clouds and protected Chen Zongping in Fei’e Palace. They had gained deep insight into the Dao image they saw that day, and found it hard to heed teachings in Wendao Palace afterwards.
Wen Renyi said, “That day, I saw in Xue-shixiong’s Dao image a nine-bend Yellow River. At first sight, it tore my heart apart, like losing one’s own mother.”
“Though not as sentimental as Wen Ren-xiong, I too feel deeply moved.”
“Yes, indeed…”
As they discussed the Dao image, they made their way to Jinxia Peak. Wen Renyi remarked, “The talisman path is costly and prospects bleak. I intend to switch to sword cultivation.”
The female cultivator glanced at him. “Give it a try.”
She tossed the sabre to Wen Renyi. He cried out, fell to the ground, and struggled to rise. After a while, he smiled wryly and withdrew his hand. “Better I switch to sword cultivation. Everyone cultivates the sword; it must be easier to get started.”
Xue Cuo, weary after a full day, returned to Diquan Mountain.
Little White Cloud lazily trailed behind, sweeping fallen leaves from outside the cave with a broom.
Xue Cuo fed Little White Cloud the essence of sunset glow, used a dust-removal talisman on himself, and was about to undress and sleep when he noticed a brand-new set of disciple robes lying on the stone bed.
“Eh? Has Sword Uncle been here?”
Xue Cuo lay on the bed. The cave was sealed, no ordinary person could enter. Who could have placed them there?
Mom? I just saw her once this month. it won’t be so soon.
Dad? Dad has gone deaf, likely preoccupied with himself.
Muttering, Xue Cuo kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the stone bed. He thought and thought, then soon fell asleep. Only the little white cloud floated about, folding his clothes, placing his shoes neatly, then turned into a thin quilt that covered him.
The next day, he attended Daoism teachings.
Kong Yun and Xue Cuo ascended together to the Dao Discussion Platform atop Jinxia Peak.
Upon arrival, they saw many cultivators gathered. Not only were there new disciples but also some clearly of higher realms.
Most eye-catching was a charming female cultivator seated on a cloud. Her Dao aura was utterly calm, peaceful as a mortal, bearing a striking resemblance to Bai Luoluo.
Bai Luoluo sat half perched on the cloud, legs swinging. “Mother, he’s here.”
Bai Xianmei lowered her gaze, frowned lightly, and spoke softly: “Don’t be too heavy-handed. I still need to give Swordmaster Xue an valid explanation.”
Bai Luoluo smiled sweetly. “I won’t beat him to death.”
Bai Xianmei hummed in reply, as a loving mother’s tone softened her words: “I’ve already helped you petition the heavenly emperor. Just do your best.”
Bai Luoluo’s eyes brightened slightly; she nodded demurely.
Kong Yun and Xue Cuo halted in their steps simultaneously. Kong Yun grasped Xue Cuo’s arm, lowering his voice, “That woman on the cloud, I can’t read her cultivation.”
Xue Cuo looked up, the divine light stung his eyes. Whispering, “At least it’s the realm of my mother.”
Kong Yun asked, “The literary contest is a test of Dao scriptures. How many volumes have you read?”
Xue Cuo blinked, thinking: Isn’t it about discussing the Dao?
Kong Yun, having stayed up all night, had compiled notes: “I sent a missive by bird, asking Tiger Uncle last night. He said the literary contest demands a high level of Dao knowledge. I’ve gathered some demon clan Dao scriptures for you to study… By the way, how confident are you?”
Xue Cuo took the scriptures, comparing a figure.
Kong Yun exclaimed, “Only fifty percent?!”
Xue Cuo opened the scriptures; half the characters were unknown to him. Pointing at Bai Luoluo, he adjusted the number: “Now seventy percent.”
Kong Yun’s expression relaxed slightly.
Xue Cuo grunted, blushing. “She’s seventy, I’m thirty.”
Kong Yun: “…” Why are you blushing?
Bai Luoluo descended from the cloud, her wrist bells jingling softly. At sixteen, she was elegant and graceful.
“Little Daoist, are you ready today?”
Xue Cuo tucked the scriptures under his arm, steadied himself, and stepped boldly onto the platform. “I am ready.”
Clang—
Wendao Bell tolled once.
Disciples seated themselves on both sides of the stage. Some newcomers came specifically to watch the debate, only to find two disciples of modest realm standing atop the platform.
The cultivators were astonished. Looking up, they saw the female cultivator sitting on the cloud; their mouths tightened, and no one dared speak.
How could Elder Bai appear in Wendao Palace?
Who are these two debating?
News spread as cultivators passed whispers among themselves; more and more gathered, expecting a grand teaching.
Bai Xianmei, fond of her daughter yet somewhat dissatisfied with Xue Zhenzhen, resolved to attend the debate where he daughter would be speaking.
Her arrival strengthened Bai Luoluo’s presence. Xiaofeng was overjoyed, secretly hoping to catch her notice.
Recalling her mother’s warning not to give others ammunition, Bai Luoluo sat cross-legged on the cushion, lightly flicking her sleeves.
“Little Daoist, I shall let you go first.”
Xue Cuo: “… Go where? Isn’t this a lecture? Reciting is far too difficult—I can’t do it.”
Kong Yun clenched his fists anxiously, unable to break the rules. His brows furrowed deeply. That dunce! I should have made him stay up last night and discuss it properly!
Beside him, cultivator Wen Renyi said, “Xue-shixiong is calm and composed. He must have some clever tricks up his sleeve.”
Kong Yun: “……”
Xue Cuo scratched his head.
A flicker crossed Bai Luoluo’s eyes. She shaped a semicircle with her left hand, then raised her right hand, stroking gently.
Xue Cuo: Hmm?
Kong Yun looked surprised too. “Could it be that Xue Cuo understands?”
Wen Renyi and others were moved. Wen Renyi whispered, “Unexpectedly, Xue-shixiong began by asking the final question from Great Dao Elucidation, transforming into the renowned ‘Asking the Willows under the Huai River in the Moon’ by Elder Qingyang: ‘What is the Dao? Can it be attained?’”
“The surnamed Bai answered with some knowledge, citing ‘The Great Dao is principle; the law is great to attain Dao.’”
Xue Cuo blinked, gazing at the sky.
Bai Luoluo’s face darkened slightly. She clasped hands and flicked her sleeves, sending a rustling breeze out.
Wen Renyi exclaimed, “Xue-shixiong is young, yet seems to have read a thousand scriptures. Now, these Dao postures, some I cannot fathom.”
He was confused; Bai Luoluo more so. After a tense stalemate, Bai Luoluo stood and declared, “This round is a draw.”
Xue Cuo blushed for no reason.
Thinking him overconfident, Bai Luoluo snorted quietly. Confident about the next topic, she said, “Little Daoist, the movements of the Great Dao lie within the scriptures. Whoever can connect with the Dao of Heaven and Earth and move the Dao rhythm naturally holds the superior Dao.”
Xue Cuo sat cross-legged on the futon. “Jiejie, will you lecture me?”
Bai Luoluo replied coolly, “As a disciple of Wendao Palace, I cannot casually reveal the true scriptures.”
Xue Cuo found it amusing, propping his chin. “Why hide it? I don’t understand these Dao postures. Maybe the immortal sect treasures are just nonsense.”
Bai Luoluo naturally didn’t believe him. “Don’t speak nonsense!”
“I know you are the son of Sword Immortal, and the Dragon Might Swordmaster is your mother. But, Xue Cuo, if you err, you must be punished. Since you’ve come to the platform today, whoever supports you won’t save you now.”
Xue Cuo lifted his chin. “What exactly do you mean?”
Bai Luoluo smiled, half-mocking. “If you lose today, don’t come crying to your mother.”
Xue Cuo’s eyebrows shot up. “Cut the rubbish. What are we competing in?”
Bai Luoluo clapped her hands. Disciples had already brought out gold, silver, jade, sacrificial animals, and wine. She smiled confidently: “Since it’s a Dao discussion, let’s see whose Dao can communicate with Heaven and Earth, and summon true gods!”
