Chapter 100: Transplanting Blossoms

Comparing the two, the pale skin and jade-like bones subtly shimmered with an inner light—they were remarkably similar, perhaps indistinguishable.

The Wine Daoist furrowed his brow for a long moment before saying, “Truly, different paths lead to the same destination!”

Zhou Xun was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Cultivators typically face three heavenly tribulations. After the first, one’s primordial spirit manifests, allowing one to soar through the skies and traverse the earth. The physical body is no different; after enduring heavenly tribulations, it transforms into a semi-immortal body—also called the immortal flesh and Daoist bones. Even a severed limb can regenerate bone, nurturing primordial energy and granting various astonishing abilities. This old Daoist only achieved it through trials by thunder and tribulation. Yet you, without experiencing the thunder tribulation, have attained such a form—it is truly bizarre!”

“So, are you saying my master is also an immortal? An immortal without a primordial spirit?” Zhou Qian’s eyes widened.

“An immortal without a primordial spirit?” The Wine Daoist laughed heartily. “That’s fitting. If your master truly succeeds in transforming, he would possess an immortal body. Cultivation would then be far more efficient; who knows, he might manifest his primordial spirit in just a few years.”

Zhou Qian’s face lit up, but Zhou Xun frowned. “You haven’t told us everything!”

The Wine Daoist gave Zhou Xun a deep look. “Do you realize this might be exploiting a loophole in the heavenly Dao? If so, Heaven certainly will not tolerate it!”

“My master has made steady progress through hard work. Why would Heaven not permit it? What is this ‘heavenly Dao’ anyway?” Zhou Qian said irritably.

“Well said. Nobody truly knows what the heavenly Dao is,” the Wine Daoist replied, taking a sip of wine. “Perhaps it is fate, perhaps a grand trend—but none can say for sure. The old ghost Wu Xin calculated the heavenly Dao and predicted the rise of the demonic sect, only to have his primordial spirit severed by Fang Shuming, and Emei Mountain was defeated in sword combat. The great sage of Mount Yue, the heir of Fuxi’s Eight Trigrams Dao, could not save himself either—he was slain by Lu Mingzi, the yin-yang demon god. The heavenly Dao is both explicable and inexplicable, sometimes chaotic, sometimes clear.”

“But without a doubt, you have taken a shortcut. For us cultivators, we align our hearts with Heaven, cultivate Daoist techniques, observe the stars and the qi, absorb the essence of the sun and moon, partake of the purple glow, imbibe the jade dew, nurture qi and train the body—after a hundred years of hardship, Heaven and man unite, and after surviving the thunder tribulation, one sheds the mortal shell and attains the true primordial spirit. But your body broke through without primordial spirit resonance, so you bypassed the heavenly tribulation. When your primordial spirit is accomplished, you will be an immortal body, and the tribulation will still not strike you. We toil along the grand path, exhausted to death, while you take a shortcut with ease. Tell me, if you were the heavenly Dao, would you punish yourself?”

“So you mean the heavens will send thunder to strike me down at any moment?” Zhou Xun countered.

“Hah! The heavenly Dao is not so simple. Even if it wants to kill you, it will use others or other means. The number of the Great Yin is fifty; it uses forty-nine, and one escapes. If you survive the tribulations, you succeed; if not, your Dao ceases.”

“My master is unrivaled in the mortal realm, unrelated to any sword immortal. Surely the heavenly Dao has no way to handle him. After two days, the tribulation will pass. Even the heavenly Dao cannot go back on its word, right?” Zhou Qian said confidently. In his heart, his master was invincible.

“If it were that simple, it would be good. Mortal world is vast, with endless grievances and entanglements that kill invisibly,” the Wine Daoist waved his hand and left, leaving behind only one sentence:

“Zhou Xun, you truly are extraordinary. Years ago I wondered if you could do it—and you have not disappointed. Neither I nor the heavenly Dao believe in it. I will stay one more day to support you and see what this heavenly Dao can really do to you!”

Zhou Qian smiled with confidence. “To raise a disciple for a thousand days is to use him at such a time. My master and I together can accomplish anything!”

Zhou Xun smiled faintly. “Then let’s see. It is a joy to fight men; fighting Heaven must be even more interesting. Go tell Old Sun to prepare the feast. You entertain those sword immortals; I must nurture my body and will not come.”

Zhou Qian nodded, and seeing Zhou Xun closing his eyes in meditation, understood he was gathering strength. Quietly, he closed the door and walked down the corridor. For some reason, a sudden tightness gripped his heart. He shook his head, chiding himself for overthinking.

After turning three or four corners, he arrived at the dining hall. The aroma of cooking filled the air. Inside, the cooks were bustling about, frying, roasting, and steaming, with Old Sun supervising.

Seeing Zhou Qian, Old Sun was startled. “Third Young Master, why are you here? This is the servants’ domain.”

Zhou Qian shook his head. “No matter. Have all the sword immortals been arranged for?”

Old Sun nodded respectfully. “We have prepared the best guest rooms. The maids and servants are all attending to them. Everything should be perfect.”

Zhou Qian scanned the kitchen staff and frowned. To one cooking a dish, he said, “For this sea cucumber stewed with tendon, the sea cucumber isn’t blanched thoroughly. Otherwise, the dish will have a slight fishy taste.”

The cook paused, about to reply, but Zhou Qian turned to another. “For the pearl dried shrimp stewed quail—why are some shrimp shells still on? The shells are tough and will ruin the texture.”

“Chicken rice is being prepared too early! It should wait another half hour.”

“Don’t you know there’s a ninth flavor to mapo tofu?”

“And the dried squid…”

Zhou Qian finally could not hold back. “Stop! Let me handle it!”

Old Sun was taken aback, leaning in to whisper, “Third Young Master, these are all imperial chefs.”

“So what? I was called the Little Culinary Immortal once! In the end, skill is skill.” Zhou Qian was unconcerned, picking up a knife and ladle. His blade flashed and his tossing was smooth, far surpassing the others.

“A skill like that,” one cook gawked, “Could it be that swordsmanship improves cooking?”

Old Sun sighed and ordered, “Bring out the tribute wine the Emperor bestowed.”

After a busy afternoon, dusk fell. The feast was a lavish array of delicacies. If the immortals were still not satisfied, there was nothing more to do.

Zhou Qian left the kitchen for the main hall and saw Old Sun hurrying back. “Old Sun, why aren’t you entertaining the immortals?”

Old Sun hesitated. “They were invited, but not a single one came.”

Zhou Qian was stunned. Arriving at the hall, he found it true. He sighed, shaking his head. These elders were difficult to please. “Has Senior Wine Daoist not come either?”

“He promised but said he has matters to attend to and will be late, probably after one o’clock.”

“Send some dishes to them.”

Zhou Qian was resigned. He did not want to be the warm face met by a cold response. But with Zhou Xun’s tribulation imminent, every ally mattered.

At that moment, a chubby head peeked in from the doorway. Seeing the spread of dishes, his eyes gleamed and he swallowed hard.

Zhou Qian was surprised. If memory served, this was Zhu Fei, a disciple of the Heavenly Dao Sect. Emei did not come, yet he did?

“Hail, Immortal Zhu!” Zhou Qian called.

Zhu Fei hesitated, then walked in, muttering, “I heard you were hosting a feast. As a sword immortal, I thought, to share joy with the people, I should give you face.”

Zhou Qian smiled inwardly. His eyes were nearly buried in the dishes, yet he kept up appearances. This guy was amusing.

“Indeed, indeed, Immortal Zhu, please take your seat.”

Zhu Fei settled awkwardly, glancing around embarrassedly. Old Sun understood and quickly dismissed the maids, bowing as he did so.

Zhou Qian smiled warmly. “Please enjoy, Immortal Zhu.”

Zhu Fei nodded seriously, slowly selecting a spare rib, then a chicken leg, then a pig’s trotter. Afterward, his motions quickened; his chopsticks flew. Zhou Qian raised his eyebrows—immortal life seemed surprisingly arduous.

“You eat, you eat!” Zhu Fei said, mouth full and holding a bone, urging him.

Zhou Qian laughed and nodded. Before he could reply, a gust of wind swept in, and the Wine Daoist appeared as if from nowhere. His nose twitched at the scent of the wine and he called out, “Fine wine, fine wine!”

Seeing the wine jar on the table, he eagerly reached for it and drank deeply.

Zhu Fei quickly stood, calling, “Master Uncle!”

Zhou Xun waved his hand casually, signaling him to sit.

Thus, one drank wine and the other ate meat, the atmosphere surprisingly congenial as they exchanged words.

Suddenly Zhou Qian asked, “Senior Wine Daoist, I wanted to ask earlier—didn’t you go after those demonic sect members? Why have you come here with these sword immortals?”

The Wine Daoist took a deep swallow, sighing contentedly. “Those demonic sect henchmen fled swiftly, and I couldn’t find them immediately. By chance, I saw several sword flashes dart southwest and followed. It turned out to be Zhu Fei and his group chasing after them. They met up with their masters and came together. But Zhu Fei, why did you act without permission? Aren’t you afraid of your master’s reprimand?”

“It’s those two senior brothers and sisters from Emei. They wouldn’t listen to our master’s advice, insisted on slaying the demons, and dragged me along—” Zhu Fei mumbled, chewing on a pig’s trotter, his favorite food.

“Slay demons? Where near Luodu are there demons?” Zhou Qian was surprised.

“No idea. Heard an old man’s granddaughter was abducted by a demon. Coincidentally, two senior disciples ran into him, who wept and told his tale. The two rushed off without even notifying the master and dragged me along. We wanted to seek the Fire-Eyed Brother, but he refused and went to inform the master. In the end, we found no demon, and the old man was gone too. On the way back, we ran into Master Uncle Wine and two other masters who had arrived,” Zhu Fei explained. Eating makes one talk. The fat sword immortal had a good impression of Zhou Qian.

“That is indeed strange,” Zhou Qian replied, though he gave it little thought.

The Wine Daoist glanced sideways at Zhu Fei and scolded with a grin, “You’re a direct disciple, and those two are too. Why fear them? Do what they tell you and don’t disgrace your master’s yellow talisman.”

Zhu Fei shrank a little. “It’s just that my senior brothers and sisters are too domineering.” He continued eating and drinking.

One ate, one drank. Occasionally they chatted about sword immortal anecdotes. Zhou Qian’s eyes were opened; the feast was quite enjoyable.

When the gathering dispersed, Zhu Fei solemnly patted Zhou Qian’s shoulder with his greasy palm. “Your cooking is excellent, especially the rock sugar pig’s trotter. If I get the chance, I’ll protect you.”

Zhou Qian smiled wryly. Was his life worth just a pig’s trotter? Yet he appreciated Zhu Fei’s straightforwardness.

Early the next morning, Zhou Qian awoke to find Zhao’er gazing at him with gentle eyes, warming his heart. He kissed her cheek. “Awake so early?”

“I’ve been watching you all night.”

Zhou Qian was stunned. “What?”

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

Zhou Qian sighed. “Immortals fight, mortals suffer. This time, it’s truly not my choice.”

Zhao’er reached out from the quilt, producing a purple sachet. “I embroidered this for you myself. Inside is a jade talisman blessed by the Bodhisattva to keep you safe.”

Zhou Qian scratched his head, reluctant. “I’m not a woman or a child. Carrying a sachet feels odd.”

“Wear it!” Zhao’er insisted firmly.

Zhou Qian yielded easily. “Alright.”

Stepping outside, he saw an Emei senior brother and sister strolling in the garden among blooming flowers. Zhao Zhuo snorted coldly at him, while Xie Yudie merely nodded silently.

Zhou Qian rubbed his nose, unsure what he had done to offend them. He detoured and had not yet reached the hall when he heard the Wine Daoist’s irritable call: “So you insist on leaving without staying another day?”

“Tearing the formation is a grave matter; even a day’s delay is dangerous,” Tian Pingzi said gravely.

“Indeed, I agree with Daoist Tian Pingzi’s opinion,” Huang Fu added.

The Wine Daoist frowned. He had never expected them to be so stubborn. What harm could one day cause? When did Emei and the Heavenly Dao Sect become so inseparable?

Seeing Zhou Qian approach, he eyed the two skeptically. “Truly, no consideration for anyone?”

Both nodded.

“Fine. You take Zhou with you. We will follow after a day. With my old body’s speed, we should catch up.”

They looked at each other, surprised. The Wine Daoist feinted retreat to advance. When they tried to object, no excuse remained.

Zhou Qian opened his mouth to speak, but the Wine Daoist signaled him to stop.

“Is this settled? Or do you have some scheme?” the Wine Daoist sneered.

Tian Pingzi snorted and brushed his sleeve, leaving. Huang Fu sighed. “Suit yourself,” and followed.

Zhou Qian hurriedly asked, “Senior Wine Daoist, so I’m leaving today?”

The Wine Daoist scratched his topknot in frustration. “I have no idea what these two are up to! Do they think a single day will make us miss Old Hu’s Golden Lightning Divine Shuttle?”

“But my master’s tribulation!”

“With me here, I’m far more useful!”

Zhou Qian was speechless. Though he understood the truth, unease lingered. The two went to Zhou Xun’s study and told him. Zhou Xun only shook his head.

“Then you two talk. I’ll take a walk outside,” the Wine Daoist said, perhaps unable to hide his frustration.

After the Wine Daoist left, Zhou Qian said, “Master, if I’m not here, what about your tribulation—”

“No matter,” Zhou Xun smiled calmly. “Do you think I can’t overcome this trial without you?”

“Not what I meant, but…”

“Your care is enough.”

Master and disciple spoke quietly. Meanwhile, the Wine Daoist flew to the rooftop and drank for hours, pondering strategies. What was Zhou Xun’s tribulation? How could he shield him?

At that moment, a green light and a red light shot to the eaves, revealing Xie Yudie and Zhao Zhuo.

Xie Yudie hurriedly said, “Master Uncle! My master is besieged outside the city by demonic cultivators. Please hurry! Senior Huang Fu has already gone!”

The Wine Daoist was stunned. “Why has Tian Pingzi gone outside the city? How did you learn this?”

“I don’t know either. Master sent a flying sword message, saying the situation is urgent. If you don’t go, we can!” Zhao Zhuo said tensely but firmly.

“Let’s go together!” The Wine Daoist decided immediately. “Zhu Fei, guard Zhou Qian.”

Two sword lights shot up like arrows. The Wine Daoist clapped his gourd and sat on it. His eyes emitted a few inches of white light—a mysterious divine power of the Qingcheng Sect—the Supreme Clear Demon Refining Eye, able to discern demonic paths and transform the five elements. His divine light swept over the two, revealing violet immortal aura and fluctuating sword qi. He was startled, thinking, “No problem? Am I overthinking?”

The flying light was swift. In the time it took to drink a cup of tea, they had flown miles and soon saw the city walls. Doubt deepened, but it was too late to turn back. They stopped.

Just then, above Luodu City, a spreading red-black sinister aura appeared, like a black net slowly covering the city. Alarmed, they rushed back, only to be blocked by a figure—

It was Tian Pingzi, a top expert of the previous generation of Emei, one of the thirty-one masters of the Demon Refining Sect!

At this moment, Tian Pingzi wore a sinister smile. His black pupils glowed with a ghostly light, unlike a righteous man.