Chapter Twenty-Seven: Passing on the Teachings

“Understood,” Shangguan Qingyun replied after some thought.

Shangguan Chuanyun continued, “Nor must you lightly pass on what you learn, nor flaunt your abilities before others, nor show off your skills.”

Shangguan Qingyun was a little puzzled. Wasn’t learning magic arts supposed to be glorious? Why hide it? He asked, “Brother, why can’t I show it?”

Shangguan Chuanyun considered for a moment, recalling a story from his previous life. There had once been a priest of the Zhengyi sect who had displayed the magical art of Divine Steed Talisman. Though his speed rivaled a train, it wasn’t particularly useful. Yet someone witnessed it and begged the priest to teach him. The petitioner had poor aptitude and an unsteady heart. The priest, hoping to reform him, taught him some basic cultivation methods, thinking that if the man could improve, he would eventually pass on more.

But the man misunderstood: he thought the priest was deliberately withholding the secret, fobbing him off with useless tricks. Resentment took root. He went around slandering the priest, accusing him of being a fraud, making excuses about virtue, claiming the priest chose students by whim, or that fate denied him the teachings. He antagonized the priest at every turn until the latter, driven to exasperation, retreated deep into the mountains for peace.

The man persisted, badmouthing Taoists whenever he could, his heart full of bitterness.

One day he encountered Yinshan You, a practitioner of demonic arts. The man felt that Yin Jiuyou’s nature matched his own and hoped to be taught the sinister ways. He became a disciple of Yinshan You, learning the Yinshan method. Later, when the Yinshan sect refused to impart the sect’s ultimate secret to him, he developed hatred for them as well. When the sect leader was away, this man, spurred by his malice, nearly wiped out the entire Yinshan sect, sparing only a single child.

Like attracts like, and the seeker of forbidden arts found a kindred spirit in the malevolent master. It was his own twisted nature that drew such misfortune upon him.

After mastering the sinister methods, he sought vengeance on all who had mocked, belittled, or disdained him. But he hated most of all the Zhengyi priest who had refused to teach him. On one occasion, during the priest’s ritual, he struck covertly. If not for the priest’s great fortune, disaster would have been certain.

With this story in mind, Shangguan Chuanyun turned to Shangguan Qingyun and said, “If you master the arts and gain supernatural abilities, and someone comes begging you to teach them, would you agree or not?”

“If you teach them carelessly, you risk heavenly retribution. If you refuse, resentment festers, and should the chance arise, they may harm you. You cannot guard against every threat. That’s why I urge you to remember this well: it’s for your own good.”

Shangguan Qingyun pondered for a while, then nodded. “Brother, I understand.”

Shangguan Chuanyun, seeing his point was made, said, “To cultivate the Way is to cultivate your own path. I hope your resolve remains steadfast and that you enter the true Way.”

“Yes, Brother.”

Then Shangguan Chuanyun opened his sword case. A flash of silver light shot forth and circled the area for a hundred yards, emitting a surge of sword energy that swept the surroundings.

A thought rang out: “All living creatures within a hundred yards, depart this place within a quarter of an hour.”

At once, all living things within the radius scattered in panic—cats, rats, even bats fled from nearby houses.

After the quarter hour passed and the area was clear, Shangguan Chuanyun willed his flying sword into motion. It became a streak of silver, darting through the shadows of several dark corners, and instantly, a few agonized screams echoed forth. The sword returned to the case, and Shangguan Chuanyun dropped a single drop of blood onto its blade. The sword flashed twice, its aura growing ever more mysterious. Satisfied, Shangguan Chuanyun closed the case.

Shangguan Qingyun watched with envy, but then, feeling the large bundle at his side, his gaze grew resolute once more. After all, his brother had only that strange case and a single sword, while he himself had an entire bundle.

Shangguan Chuanyun, having finished everything, turned to Shangguan Qingyun and said, “The Law is not passed to six ears. Come closer.”

“The highest medicine is of three grades. Spirit joins with vital essence, vague and subtle, mysterious and obscure. Guard the formless, preserve the tangible, and, in an instant, the work is accomplished. Winds return, mingle and blend, and after a hundred days, the effect is manifest.

Unbroken and enduring, roots deep and strong, each person has their essence, essence joins with spirit, spirit joins with breath, breath joins with truth. Without truth, all is but an empty name.

All three grades are one principle, marvelous beyond hearing. When gathered, it is; when dispersed, it is nothing. The seven orifices are interconnected, each radiant with light. The sacred sun and moon shine upon the Golden Court. Within is a single aperture, neither white nor green, the sacred embryo united. Master this, and myriad transformations become clear, and all mysteries reveal themselves.”

After reciting the formula, Shangguan Chuanyun asked, “Have you memorized it?”

“Yes,” Shangguan Qingyun replied. It was only about a hundred characters, easy enough to remember.

Shangguan Chuanyun then handed him the “Secret Record of External Alchemy,” saying, “Study it carefully when you return. Do not miss a single word. This is the subtle formula for opening the Mysterious Pass, the true seed of the Way—it is not for the unworthy. Bestowed by the heavens, every word is a pearl. I hope you achieve something of your own in cultivation, and do not reveal that I was the one who taught you.”

“Yes, Brother,” Shangguan Qingyun answered.

Satisfied, Shangguan Chuanyun waved his hand. “The Great Way is simple. That’s all there is. From here, the path is yours alone. Go back now.”

“But, Brother…” Shangguan Qingyun looked a little reluctant.

Shangguan Chuanyun saw this—new initiates were always so—and waved him off. “All that needs to be taught has been taught. Hurry on home.”

Shangguan Qingyun thanked him profusely, then left with his large bundle and the “Secret Record of External Alchemy.”

Watching him go, Shangguan Chuanyun nodded. Now that Shangguan Qingyun had entered the Way, no one could use him to threaten their mother anymore.

A father and son go to war together; brothers hunt tigers side by side. Though he didn’t know what their father was plotting, Shangguan Qingyun was his own brother, and would stand with him. If he ever decided to overthrow the emperor and take the throne himself, Shangguan Qingyun would no doubt follow with sword in hand.

Right or wrong, their loyalties were aligned. Of course, he had no intention of doing anything reckless.

…

The next morning, Shangguan Chuanyun gathered the strand of purple qi from the eastern dawn, then practiced a set of sword forms.

Afterwards, he went to the kitchen for food, leaving with two peacock claws, gnawing as he walked.

Since Marquis Wu’an had been sent south by the emperor to quell unrest, and after yesterday’s brawl, the First Lady was so frightened she’d gone into hiding, probably waiting for her eldest son, Shangguan Hongyun, to return before settling scores. With all her bodyguards slain, she dared not show her face.

The Second Lady had been so shocked she was nearly deranged; she might not even be able to care for herself now. As for the former second strongest in the household, Shangguan Cheng, he was surely still bedridden; even if he recovered, he could no longer match a master of inner alchemy. No one was left to trouble him.

Shangguan Chuanyun planned to seek out Master Wuchenzi, the wild-haired Taoist from last night, to see how their plotting had progressed. Cihang Pudu, after all, was brought by Shangguan Hongyun. For now, that one was probably tied up with palace affairs and wouldn’t come after him, but caution was still needed. If Wuchenzi really managed to slay Cihang Pudu, Shangguan Chuanyun wouldn’t mind lending a hand.

Just then, a commotion sounded at the gate. It seemed to concern him—his mother was there as well. Tossing aside his peacock claw, Shangguan Chuanyun hurried over.

He saw his mother leading dozens of people, blocking ten soldiers clad in scaled iron armor.

“Divine Wind Guards? What are they doing here? They mentioned me—could Father have sent them to deal with me?” Shangguan Chuanyun recognized the armored men as his father Shangguan Jin’s personal guards, elite warriors handpicked from the army, each capable of facing a hundred foes alone. Some were masters of hidden power, others of manifest strength, but all were far more formidable than ordinary fighters of their rank.

He noted the black aura above the ten men, resounding with the clamor of battle, their combined might rivaling that of the dozens his mother had assembled.

Jia Shi, seeing her son approach, hurriedly cried out, “Chuan’er, run! Go south to your grandfather—Mother will hold them here for you.”

Shangguan Chuanyun was bewildered. Surely they weren’t here to kill him—otherwise, his mother wouldn’t be reacting so fiercely.

Then the leader of the armored guards cupped his fists and said, “Fourth Young Master, the Marquis orders you to don your armor and join the expedition at once. There is no delay permitted.”

Shangguan Chuanyun was displeased. He held neither official rank nor position; his only claim was being the fourth son of the Marquis of Wu’an. That was hardly a formal title, just an indication of his parentage. Now he was to don armor and join the army? What was the meaning of this?

Jia Shi, seeing his hesitation, grew anxious. “Chuan’er, run! Your father is sending you south to die. If you reach your grandfather, you’ll be safe. Even if the Marquis comes to Jiangnan, he won’t dare touch you.”

The leading guard, seeing Shangguan Chuanyun lost in thought, spoke again. “The Marquis says that if you go, yesterday’s events will be forgiven. Also, the Third Lady will be given full authority over the household while the Marquis is on campaign—all affairs of the Wu’an household will be under her control.”

Jia Shi had long wished for control of the household, but not at the price of her son’s life. Recent news from her father had been grim: part of the southern army had been wiped out, the rest had retreated to Jiangnan awaiting reinforcements. The southern lands were devastated—some had joined the rebels, some turned bandit, and most were fleeing as refugees. Waves of displaced people had already reached Jiangnan.

Monsters and demons ran rampant outside the capital, making it all the more dangerous. The capital itself was relatively safe, but to venture beyond was perilous—no wonder Jia Shi was so worried.

She said to the guards, “No! Chuan’er isn’t going anywhere—he’ll stay here. And the Marquis has more than one son; why aren’t the others being sent to the front? We will not agree to this if Chuan’er is the only one chosen. Take that answer back to the Marquis.”

Shangguan Chuanyun nearly laughed. After what he’d done yesterday, with the First and Second Ladies out of the way, his mother naturally gained control of the household—no need for any official title. Not a single benefit offered, just a pinch of salt on a dry finger. Did they think to bind him with appeals to principle or righteousness? He’d sooner have a few ingots of meteoric iron or ores instead.

Still, if his father ordered him to go, he would not refuse. After all, all Shangguan sons went to war, though he’d wait for Shangguan Hongyun to return to the northern frontier first. For now, things were too unstable. Though he longed to travel, this was not the time.

He looked disdainfully at the guards and said, “It’s not that I refuse to go—but this young master will need a few days to prepare.”