Chapter Two: The Six-Fold Sublime Heavenly Wish-Fulfilling Grand Method
Chapter Two: Six Yuan, Wondrous Heaven, Wish-Fulfilling
Chapter One: In the Cold Land, No Surpassing Scenery, The Hermit’s Hidden Trace (Part Two)
More than a month slipped by in the blink of an eye. On this day, the Mid-Autumn Festival arrived once again. The autumn dew sparkled like pearls, and the moon was as bright and round as a jade disc. Ye Ren and his wife brought Ye Hua with them to the back garden, where they set out wine and delicacies.
The Mid-Autumn Festival in the eighth lunar month, often called the “Little New Year,” was also the season of harvest—a time of grand celebration in the countryside. Bamboo firecrackers burst without end, and under the resplendent full moon, thoughts of distant kin grew keener.
The three sat sipping tea and chatting beneath the moon. Suddenly, Ye Hua asked, “Father, has Uncle not returned home for several years now?”
Ye Ren was taken aback. “Yes, your uncle has only come home three or four times since your birth. He has sent word through others that he’s cultivating under the Grandmaster Lingmiao at Mount Danxia in Emei and dares not slacken, which is why he has not returned for so long.”
Ye Hua exclaimed with excitement, “If Uncle comes back, I’d certainly want to go with him and learn the arts of the immortals!”
Ye Ren frowned, “Don’t say such things. If you go off to cultivate the Dao, who will inherit the Ye family’s lineage? That would be gravely unfilial!”
Seeing his father angry, Ye Hua hid behind his mother and stuck out his tongue. “I was only joking, Father. Please don’t be angry.”
His mother gently interceded, “The child is only speaking in jest. There’s no need to take it seriously.”
Ye Ren gave a soft, dissatisfied snort. “The path of cultivation is fraught with danger, hardship beyond measure. It’s far less peaceful and joyful than an ordinary life. You must never harbor such thoughts! Instead, aspire to aid the world and serve your country—that is the proper path.”
As they spoke, the pale moon had already climbed halfway up the pines. Its cold brilliance shone clear as a mirror; the world was illuminated in an almost otherworldly clarity.
Ye Hua stared at the moon in silence, lost in thought. Suddenly, he asked, “Father, is there really a Palace of Vast Cold on the moon, with the Lady Chang’e and the Jade Rabbit? The Lady Chang’e, all alone in that cold palace—how pitiful she must be!”
Ye Ren sighed, “Indeed. Tonight is the fifteenth of the eighth month, when the Lady Chang’e leaves her palace, descending from the Ninth Heaven to scatter silver dust upon the earth. Otherwise, how could the moon shine so brightly tonight?”
Ye Hua mused, “I wonder what that palace looks like. Is it a grand mansion of jade and crystal towers? And is the Lady Chang’e truly beautiful?” Ye Ren was about to rebuke his irreverent son, but before he could speak, Ye Hua suddenly cried out, “Father, Mother, look—what is that?”
Following Ye Hua’s pointing finger, the couple looked up to the sky. In the distance, something was slowly flying closer, massive as a small mountain. Against the backdrop of the cold stars, it dwarfed the heavens. The three were transfixed with awe. As the object drew nearer, its shape became clear: three legs beneath, two handles above—it was a colossal bronze cauldron. Its size defied imagination; even from the side, it seemed beyond comprehension.
Ye Ren and his wife exchanged a glance, eyes wide with fear. As the great cauldron approached, the sky darkened, obscuring much of the moon’s light. Backlit by the moon, they could now see hundreds of black lines trailing from the cauldron’s front, with thousands of white dots at their tips, as if being dragged along. The cauldron floated onward, and a faint, haunting sound drifted down—sometimes long and drawn out, sometimes sharp and quick, like secret Buddhist chants or the incantations of ghosts and demons.
Suddenly, a thunderous shout rang out, startling the three so that their faces turned ashen. The white dots at the ends of the black lines twisted and transformed—revealing themselves as giant corpses in white robes, their hair loose and wild. The shout seemed to come from these thousand monstrous corpses in unison! There appeared to be a figure standing atop the cauldron, though his appearance could not be discerned. He stood with hands behind his back, wind billowing his robes, silhouetted against the moon. The three felt an indescribable terror and unease.
The figure atop the cauldron seemed not to notice those below, as if merely passing by, gliding through the sky. As the cauldron floated overhead, the three could see its surface was covered in carvings of strange mountains, spirits, demons, and monsters—grotesque faces with fangs, glaring eyes, tongues lolling, images of blood and violence—enough to chill the bones.
On the ground, the three trembled with fear, wishing only for the cauldron to pass quickly. Who knew how much time elapsed before it finally drifted away and vanished as if it had never been, the moon and stars shining as before, the night clear and serene.
Ye Hua, though frightened, was still a child and felt more curiosity than fear. “Father, what was that thing that just flew by?” Ye Ren, pale and shaken, replied with a tremor, “I do not know. But judging by its form, it resembles the legendary…”
He trailed off in confusion.
Ye Hua pressed, “Father, what legend?”
Ye Ren lowered his head. “It looked like one of the Nine Tripods of ancient Xia.”
“The Nine Tripods of ancient Xia?” Ye Hua repeated softly.
Ye Ren nodded, recalling, “According to legend, in the early Xia dynasty, the lords of the nine provinces contributed bronze to cast nine great tripods. On each was engraved images of the mountains, rivers, spirits, and monsters of the land, so that people could know what dangers and wonders awaited them wherever they traveled. The creation of the tripods was said to earn Heaven’s favor and the Jade Emperor’s blessing, and so the Xia dynasty enjoyed celestial protection. Since then, the tripods became the treasures of the realm, passing from Xia to Shang, then to Zhou. Later, as warlords vied for power, the nine tripods vanished, and their fate became the stuff of countless legends.”
Ye Hua listened, utterly enraptured. “Father, do you think the cauldron we saw was really one of the Nine Tripods?”
Ye Ren nodded thoughtfully. “It is only a guess. The carvings brought the legend to mind. They say whoever possesses the tripods rules the world—but true dominion comes from virtue, not from the tripods themselves! Even if the virtue of Zhou declined, Heaven’s mandate remained unchanged. The tripods’ weight cannot be measured.”
His wife gripped his palm, her hand clammy with fear. Ye Ren comforted her, “There are countless strange happenings in this world. Though spirits and demons may run rampant, they rarely trouble ordinary folk. There is no need for fear. And do not speak of tonight’s events to anyone, lest we attract unwanted attention.” Both mother and son nodded solemnly.
The three lingered a little while longer beneath the moon, but their hearts were no longer in it. As they prepared to return indoors, a streak of silver light shot down from the bright moon, heading straight toward them like a falling star. Ye Ren was still in shock, when the blue radiance suddenly flashed before them. In an instant, a man in dark Daoist robes, about thirty or forty years old, appeared.
“Brother!” the man called out with joy.
Ye Ren stared, then, recognizing the man, cried out in delight and rushed forward to embrace him. “My dear brother, I have missed you so!” His wife, regaining her composure, looked closely and saw it was indeed Ye Cheng, Ye Ren’s younger brother. She, too, was overcome with joy. Ye Cheng’s eyes were bright, his brows sharp, his bearing unchanged—he seemed no different than years ago.
Ye Cheng was the first to speak. “Brother, sister-in-law, forgive me for startling you. I have been away cultivating these years, and only just returned. I am ashamed to have neglected you.”
Ye Ren replied, “You must not say so. You have succeeded in your Daoist training, able to travel the skies—these years of hardship were not in vain. I was comforted by your messages of safety.”
Ye Cheng explained, “After ten years of study, I have made some modest progress. Today, my master sent me down the mountain on an errand, and when it was done, I came straight to see you.” He turned to Ye Hua. “My nephew has grown so much!”
Ye Hua, beaming, knelt and bowed. “Uncle!” Ye Cheng laughed and lifted the boy up for a closer look. He had received a letter from his brother days before, saying Ye Hua had been pursued by a snake demon and was likely poisoned. He had hurried down the mountain with his master’s permission. Examining his nephew’s face, he saw that though the boy was bright and clever, his spirit was dimmed, and between his brows lingered a faint blackness—sure signs of a sinister poison.
Ye Cheng, alarmed, pressed his hand to Ye Hua’s wrist, sending his internal energy through the boy’s meridians. At the dantian, he found that Ye Hua’s innate spirit was dangerously depleted, a wisp of black energy wound about it. The moment his inner force touched the blackness, it lashed out, dissolving his energy like ice meeting fire.
Ye Cheng was deeply troubled. “This black poison is far more ferocious than I expected! How has the child endured it? By all rights, his spirit should have been exhausted long ago!”
Looking closer, he realized, “Ah, so that’s it!” Around Ye Hua’s neck hung a red pearl that glimmered faintly.
“That must be the demon’s inner core suppressing the poison. But using poison to counter poison may leave lingering harm. To purge the snake demon’s toxin will be all the more difficult! I wonder if someone gave him this, or if he stumbled upon it by chance. In any case, there is no time to lose. With my meager skill in detoxification, I can do nothing. I must seek someone else’s help.”
After a moment’s thought, he smiled at Ye Hua. “Good child, I have a gift for you this time.”
Ye Hua was overjoyed. “Uncle, will you teach me immortal arts?”
Ye Ren, standing aside, scowled, “Enough nonsense!”
His wife intervened, “Let’s not neglect our guest any longer. Come inside and rest; I’ll bring tea.” The two brothers, reunited after years, had much to say to each other.
After dinner, Ye Ren said, “It’s late. I’ll stay up and talk with my brother, dear. Take Ye Hua to bed.” The child, though reluctant, obeyed.
The brothers talked long into the night. At length, Ye Cheng asked gravely, “Brother, about that bronze cauldron you mentioned—did you see what the man standing atop it looked like?”
Ye Ren shook his head. “It was too far; I couldn’t see.”
Ye Cheng stood and paced anxiously. “Brother, this is no small matter! That bronze cauldron may truly be what you suspect. No wonder! On my way here I felt a heavy aura of demons and ghosts, but thought it only a quirk of yin and yang. I never imagined this!”
Turning to Ye Ren, he said, “Don’t mention this to anyone. As for your son’s poisoning, I fear I cannot cure it myself.”
Ye Ren gasped, “Is it truly so serious? What are we to do?”
Ye Cheng replied, “Don’t worry. I have a sworn friend, Daoist Master Shao Lingxu of Longevity Palace on Mount Xiaowutai. He is a master of detoxification and divination. In a few days, take Ye Hua to seek his guidance. There is another way: let the boy cultivate himself and gradually refine the poison away, but that is a long and arduous road, and time is pressing.”
Ye Ren considered. “You are right. Cultivation takes years—better we go to Mount Xiaowutai soon.”
Ye Cheng nodded solemnly. “That is best. I’ll leave you this token—Daoist Shao will recognize it and advise you.” He produced a lustrous bead, transparent and carved with four tiny seated Buddhas, their features exquisitely lifelike.
“This is the Pure Release Pearl. Shao Lingxu will know it is from me.” Ye Ren accepted it with care.
Early the next morning, Ye Cheng found Ye Hua playing in the courtyard. “Nephew, I promised you a gift. What would you like?”
Ye Hua whispered, “Uncle, I wish I could go to Emei with you and learn the Dao, but father forbids it. Could you teach me a little Emei magic in secret?”
Ye Cheng smiled, “That won’t do. Your father dotes on you—how could he bear it?”
Ye Hua pleaded, “Then at least teach me a little Daoist art!”
Ye Cheng hesitated. “The Danxia Mountain arts I practice are tightly guarded and may not be passed on lightly.”
Ye Hua pouted, “Then forget it.” Tears welled in his eyes.
Ye Cheng, seeing this, relented. “Very well, I’ll give you something. Whether it brings fortune or trouble depends on your own fate.” He produced a flawless jade carving shaped like a coiled dragon. After pondering for a moment, his smile faded and he spoke gravely, “This jade I found in an ancient cave on Dazang Mountain, one of three pieces. It contains a most unusual cultivation method. Study it on your own, but if anything is unclear, do not force it—wait for my return and I’ll explain.” He paused, ensuring Ye Hua was listening, then added, “And tell no one else.” He handed over the jade.
Inwardly, Ye Cheng thought, “The method inscribed here is utterly unique, unlike any known sect. The energy flows in reverse; anyone who has learned other arts must forget them entirely, or suffer dire consequences. Fortunately, my nephew has never practiced before, so he need not worry. Whether he succeeds depends on his own aptitude.”
Ye Hua, delighted, accepted the jade. As he examined it, his mind seemed to blur; he found himself standing before a sheer cliff covered in great carved characters. At the top were the words “Collected Daoist Methods, Volume One,” followed by passages on the five elements, internal organs, and esoteric techniques for refining the elixir and circulating energy. He realized this was an immortal’s device—a “book” unlike any he had seen.
Ye Cheng, watching Ye Hua’s joy, sighed inwardly. “Though this jade text is profound beyond measure, it is extremely obscure, and only the first volume. Without the others, mastery is unlikely. But let fate take its course. If the child tires of it in a few days, it is no great loss; I left a copy at Danxia Mountain for true masters to study in the future.”
As they spoke, Ye Ren came out and called, “What are you two talking about?” Ye Hua hurriedly hid the jade. “Father, Uncle was telling me about the joys of cultivation!” Ye Ren looked at him for a long moment and shook his head.
Ye Cheng smiled, but then said with some concern, “Brother, I must leave today. I hope to visit again soon.”
Ye Ren understood his brother had urgent business—after last night’s events, he likely needed to report quickly to his sect. “If that is so, I will not keep you. Only come back to see us whenever you can.”
Ye Cheng nodded. “I will remember.” After bidding farewell to Ye Ren’s wife, Ye Hua clung to him, reluctant to part. “Uncle, must you go so far? Will you come see me again?”
Ye Cheng smiled. “Of course I will return when I can. And do not neglect the task I entrusted to you.” With that, he took his leave, mounted his sword, and soared into the sky, vanishing in a beam of light.
Ye Hua stared after the sword-light, speechless for a long time.
***
After Ye Cheng’s departure, Ye Ren kept his brother’s words in mind. Half a month later, he took Ye Hua to Mount Xiaowutai. His wife’s family lived at the mountain’s foot, a wealthy household. Her brother-in-law was away on business, leaving only her mother and younger sister at home. They stopped for a visit.
Mount Xiaowutai proved as magnificent as its reputation, its peaks stretching for hundreds of miles, the main summit wreathed in clouds. They knew that Longevity Palace was on the central peak. After some initial easy paths, the trail became increasingly steep and the scenery more spectacular. Banks of white clouds drifted overhead, and sometimes they could not see each other across the path. After several miles, they reached the summit, where the corner of a temple peeked from the cliffs. The distant sound of a bell echoed through the air.
After about two more miles, they arrived at a small Daoist temple. The sounds of chanting and ritual drifted on the wind. They lingered outside, admiring the surroundings, until the bell fell silent.
Ye Ren thought, “Such a place could not be home to ordinary men.” Suddenly, the temple gate opened and two young Daoist acolytes emerged. “Masters Ye, please come in. The master has awaited you for some time.”
Ye Ren was astounded. “May I ask—are you referring to Master Lingxu?” He wondered, “We haven’t even announced ourselves—how did he know? Can he truly divine such things?”
The acolytes answered, “Indeed. Please come in.”
They led Ye Ren and Ye Hua inside. In the central courtyard, an image of the Elder Lord presided. At the front, incense drifted about a yellow-robed old Daoist, white-haired and bearded, seated in meditation on a mat. “Master, the guests have arrived,” the acolytes announced.
Ye Ren and Ye Hua bowed. “Greetings, Master.” The Daoist rose with a smile. “No need for formality, Masters Ye. Your intentions were relayed in your brother’s letter. There is no need to explain further.”
Ye Ren presented the Pure Release Pearl. “This is from my brother, Ye Cheng. We have come to seek your help, Master.”
“Ye Cheng is a dear friend. There is no need for concern. Please stay here for now. Xuanru, Xuanzhen—see to our guests, and brew them tea from the crane grass in the herb garden.”
“Yes, Master!” The acolytes led them away, and they settled in as guests.
The next morning, Ye Hua visited the pharmacy, where Master Lingxu took his pulse and examined his condition. Afterwards, they returned to their room. Days passed without seeing Master Lingxu again. Every day, though, they drank the strange crane grass tea: bitter and astringent, but with beautiful five-petaled flowers of different colors.
They found it odd, but the mountain scenery was so splendid that they were content. After half a month, Ye Hua had become close with the acolytes. One day, Xuanru brought the tea, and Ye Hua complained, “Why must I drink this bitter tea every day? I’d rather not.”
Xuanru laughed, “You should consider this a great blessing! If it weren’t for your uncle’s friendship with Master, you’d never taste it. This crane grass tea nourishes the spirit—it's a famous Daoist herb of Xiaowutai, and Master rarely shares it.”
Ye Hua perked up. “Really? Then, please tell me more about cultivation. What Daoist arts does Master Lingxu practice?”
Xuanru grinned, “I knew you’d ask. Well, it’s mostly forbidden to talk about, but I can tell you a little. Among Daoists, the depth of one’s Dao energy is measured by realms: Seven Treasures, Three Truths, Jade Radiance, and Supreme Unity at the top. Except for the rare Jade Radiance elders, those of Supreme Unity are almost unheard of—most are recluses.”
He continued, “Our sect is called the ‘Arts’ school—masters of divination, spirit-writing, and augury, able to discern fortune and avert disaster. Master’s skills are extraordinary—nine predictions out of ten come true. He’s at the peak of the Three Truths realm, nearly equivalent to Jade Radiance.”
Ye Hua listened, entranced. “So there really are immortals in the world! My uncle, who can fly, must be at the Three Truths realm, too!”
He turned to Xuanru. “What realm are you at, brother? Can you fly on a sword?”
Xuanru looked embarrassed. “I’ve only reached the third level of the Seven Treasures realm. One more level and I could fly!”
Ye Hua grinned. “Show me some swordplay!”
Xuanru hesitated, then nodded. “All right, watch closely. I’ll show you a few moves of the Feathered Robe and Clear Wind Sword, though I only know the first nineteen forms.” He fetched a long sword, its scabbard and carvings ancient and elegant. Drawing the blade, he began to move. Instantly, fierce winds whipped up, Ye Hua’s clothes fluttering as he was forced back several steps. The roaring became so intense that soon all Ye Hua could see was a swirl of yellow clouds, as if a wind-tiger leapt and roared.
Ye Hua marveled, “This is no ‘Clear Wind Sword’—it’s more like a storm!”
As he pondered, the winds suddenly ceased. Xuanru drew in the air with his sword, and the gusts swirled into the blade. A narrow white beam shot from the tip, boring into a boulder and leaving a deep hole.
Ye Hua approached, awestruck. “Brother, your sword technique is amazing!”
Xuanru shook his head. “It’s nothing. If Master used his ‘Immortal Points the Way’ move, he could pierce the stone completely. What I did was just the surface.”
As they spoke, Master Lingxu and Ye Ren approached. The two acolytes quickly put away the sword and stood aside.
“Xuanru, you may go. I have words for young Ye.” The boy bowed and left.
Ye Hua bowed respectfully. Master Lingxu glanced at the hole in the boulder and smiled, “My disciple’s swordplay is but a trifle—your uncle, from the great Emei Sword Sect, is a true sword immortal. We are mere wanderers in comparison.”
Ye Hua replied, “I dare not presume, Master. Watching Xuanru perform was truly miraculous—I am deeply impressed.”
Master Lingxu continued, “These past days I have studied the snake demon’s poison in you. If you had strong internal energy, I could flush out the poison with powerful medicine. But your spirit is depleted, your meridians damaged. If not for the snake demon’s inner core suppressing the toxin, you would be… Sigh! I am powerless to help.”
Ye Hua was crestfallen. He had hoped Master Lingxu could cure him, but now even such a great master could do nothing. He glanced at his father, who looked back in sorrow and determination.
Ye Hua turned away, gazing at the distant mountains. “Life or death, it is all fate. Why cling to this mortal coil?” He sighed and managed a smile. “Thank you, Master. Fortune and misfortune are Heaven’s to bestow. Father, do not worry. Disaster cannot be dodged.”
Master Lingxu nodded. “A tiger’s son is no dog. For one so young to understand this is rare. If a man cannot see through life and death, living a hundred years brings only pain in the end.”
He added, “I have cast three divinations for you. The poison in you is extraordinary, but within this danger lies rare opportunity. Out of disaster, fortune may come. Do not despair.”
These words cheered Ye Hua, but Ye Ren still worried: “But what further hardships await before safety is won?”
Master Lingxu thought for a moment. “I will give you another bead, the Profound Release Pearl—a replica of one of the Buddha’s 108 great prayer beads, obtained with your uncle in distant Western lands. Though a copy, it has power to ward off evil and may help you.” He handed Ye Hua a bead much like his own, but with twelve tiny Buddhas inside.
He also gave a silk scroll. “This is a fragment of the ‘Profound Pearl Record.’ I have infused the bead with power; recite the incantation to use it, but only once—do not try it lightly.”
Ye Hua accepted with gratitude.
“Your business here is finished. You may leave whenever you wish, or explore the mountain. But do not go to Flying Cloud Cave behind the mountain. If you visit the South Peak’s Water Spring Cave, North Peak’s Fire Cloud Cave, West Peak’s Heavenly Lion Cave, or East Peak’s Azure Cloud Temple, be especially careful—there are mighty recluses at each.”
[End of Chapter]