Chapter Nine: A Dream of Millet, Three Lifetimes at the Pagoda

“Sanwen, since your allotted years are almost over, why not ask the Sect Leader for an external elixir? At the very least, it could extend your life for another three centuries,” the young Daoist said earnestly.

“Once the elixir is formed, there is no regret. Even if I had an external elixir, it would only let me linger a little longer in foolish existence. I’d rather enter the cycle of rebirth sooner,” Sanwen replied coldly.

“Is there truly such a thing as reincarnation in this world? I only seek fulfillment in this life, not the next,” the young Daoist said, brushing off his robes as he rose and strolling unhurriedly out the door.

A swath of moonlight, cold and ethereal, slanted in, falling precisely at Sanwen’s feet. The moonlight seemed like sand, gathering and coalescing until finally it took on the shape of a human figure—Sanwen himself, the patterns on his robe and every detail lifelike to the extreme.

The Daoist closed the door. The moonlight scattered, and the room returned to its serene gloom.

In terms of leaving the body, his soul was able to condense and absorb the moonlight, making him indistinguishable from a living person—far beyond the power of Shen Lian’s own soul.

Shen Lian, too, could absorb the strange forces of the world—moonlight and the like—to form a human shape, but he could not maintain it for long, nor achieve such tangible solidity.

Yet, when it came to the realm of the soul itself, the two were in truth not fundamentally different.

Of course, Shen Lian could not perceive any of this.

As the vital energy gathered within his body, Shen Lian’s soul force observed, with utmost subtlety, the entry of the vital energy and the changes it wrought upon his body.

The sensation was as if a man had wandered the desert for ages, parched to the point of agony, when suddenly he stumbled upon an oasis and found water to replenish himself.

But the mystery of the vital energy did not stop there. As Shen Lian’s soul force permeated the vital energy, he suddenly slipped into a most peculiar state.

Not all the vital energy remained within him; some still leaked away.

Shen Lian’s soul force, attached to the escaping energy, drifted outside his body.

Unlike countless times before, when his soul force dissipated outward, this time the world was not what he saw with his physical eyes.

Perhaps the vital energy in this bamboo lodge was ten or even a hundred times denser than anywhere else he had been. It was as if, under a magnifying glass, he perceived scenes he had never witnessed before.

This strange sensation made him aware that, besides vital energy, there were eight other eternal, immutable forces in the world, together forming the entirety of existence.

It was hard to describe—one moment he was soaring through boundless skies, the next, grounded on the solid earth.

He saw the land rise, soil accumulating into mountains, wind and rain gathering. He heard thunder rumble from the nine heavens, torrential rains flooding the earth, forming lakes and seas, forests spreading across the land, and then raging fires consuming all.

He suddenly thought of the Book of Changes, with its eight trigrams of Heaven, Earth, Mountain, Lake, Water, Fire, Wind, and Thunder.

Eight different forces, ceaselessly transforming through the medium of vital energy, constructed the real world of matter.

As for the principles governing their transformation, he was completely ignorant.

Nor could he move those eight forces.

The vital energy that had left his body merged back into the natural world’s energy. His soul force, no longer enveloped, returned to the usual state of awareness.

A thought stirred in him. The faint strands of moonlight seeping in through the window lattice were drawn to the soul force he had just sent out.

The moonlight condensed, finally forming a flickering little flame.

This time, his soul force did not feel depleted as before.

Gently drifting before him, Shen Lian opened his eyes, blew softly, and extinguished the flame. The wisp of soul force returned to his body, now a little more solid than before.

******

The next morning, Lu Sheng came early to knock on Shen Lian’s door.

After a night’s rest, it seemed he was fully refreshed.

Strolling idly along the corridor, Lu Sheng asked, “Brother Shen, can you already go without worldly food?”

“Not quite yet,” Shen Lian replied, “but you, Brother Lu, having stayed so long on the Path of Self-Inquiry without eating, must surely have attained the fasting state.”

Though Lu Sheng seemed easygoing, anyone who could enter Qingxuan was no ordinary man. The Path of Self-Inquiry was difficult, not insurmountable for someone like Shen Lian with a powerful soul and resolute mind, but easy it certainly was not—those who claimed otherwise might not have truly walked it.

“Perhaps you don’t know, Brother Shen, but I’m not like you cultivators, who trained in inner energy from childhood. I was raised with the Four Books and Five Classics. At twelve, I became a licentiate, and just last year, when I was seventeen, I went to take the provincial exams. On the road, I stayed at an inn famous for its millet rice. If not for what happened there, I might have had my name on the golden list by now.” As Lu Sheng recounted this, there was something odd in his expression.

“I wonder what you experienced, Brother Lu, that turned your heart toward the Dao?” Shen Lian asked calmly.

“I was exhausted from the journey and decided to stay at the inn, renowned for its millet rice. Curious, I ordered a bowl. The rice was made fresh, so I found a table to wait. There sat a Daoist priest. I was terribly tired, so when the Daoist produced a small porcelain pillow and offered it to me, I put it on the table, laid my head on it, and instantly fell asleep. Right away, I entered a dream—a dream in which I enjoyed all the glory and wealth a lifetime could hold. When I awoke, the millet rice was still not cooked.

To tell the truth, I was famous in my youth and wholly devoted to success and riches, but after that dream, I found all worldly ambitions tasteless.

Suddenly, a yearning for the Dao arose in me. I wanted to seek truth and see if this world, too, was but a dream.”

Lu Sheng seemed to have held this story in his heart for a long time; telling it now gave him great relief.

Shen Lian smiled inwardly, recalling a news story from his previous life about a student who, after reading a novel where the protagonist gained Daoist resolve from an immortal dream as a child, imitated him, ran away from home to join a Daoist temple, and was eventually sent home by the priests, only to be scolded by his parents.

Though Lu Sheng appeared robust, he was actually quite young. Having left home and traveled so far to Qingxuan in search of the Dao, Shen Lian wondered if his parents knew.

Given that Lu Sheng had passed the exams at such a young age, he was clearly well-educated. In this world, the so-called “poor families produce top scholars” was exceedingly rare. The imperial examination had been in place for ages; how could children of ordinary families receive the same education as those from wealthy households? Rich families could hire renowned teachers for personal instruction; common families had no such convenience.

Thinking of this, Shen Lian couldn’t help but reflect on himself. He, too, was rather irresponsible, leaving his family to seek immortality. It truly was the pot calling the kettle black.

Seeing Shen Lian smile, Lu Sheng asked, “Brother Shen, what amuses you?”

“I was just thinking,” Shen Lian replied, his smile fading, “with all the mountains and rivers you’ve crossed, your family must be worried.”

“I intend to achieve the Dao within ten years, and if this is not all a dream, I’ll help my parents attain immortality as well. I left them a letter explaining everything—they’ll understand,” Lu Sheng answered with utmost seriousness.

“This junior truly is confident—ten years to achieve the Dao? Not even if you were the reincarnation of Buddha or the Daoist Patriarch would your cultivation advance so swiftly,” said a young Daoist leaning against the railing at the side of the corridor, arms folded, watching them with a smile.

ps: Thanks to Kuang Ai Xianfu for the generous reward of 588, and also to Yi Ye Jiangshan, Bu & Zhidao, Big Mantou, and Qian Xuzi for their support.