Chapter 130: Fellow Disciples

"My sect's grandmaster?"

"He was the fourth-generation master of Mount Qingcheng. The current Master Ai is the eighth generation. My master told me this; did your master not mention it to you?" Jie Se asked, looking puzzled.

"Not really," Zhou Qian replied, feeling ashamed. It was truly embarrassing that he needed an outsider to remind him of the name of his own sect's patriarch.

The Min River was once a treacherous waterway, prone to flooding as it surged and crashed, all because of a hundred thousand water demons and spirits lurking at the bottom, stirring up waves and seeking human flesh. In those days, the Qingcheng sect leader, Master Li Bing, led his disciples in battle for a hundred days, personally slaying eleven great water demon commanders. Only then was the situation brought under control. He then carved through the mountains, splitting the Min River into two to stabilize the currents. His son, Erlang, slaughtered the three fire-birds—Zhuque, Bifang, and the Phoenix—and used their inner cores as a foundation to establish the Three Yang Demon-Subduing Array at the Precious Bottle Mouth, the Water-Dividing Fish Mouth, and the Flying Sand Weir. By drawing in the True Fire of the Three Yangs from heaven and earth to seal the water gates, he finally suppressed the demons beneath the river.

"With such great merit, Li Bing and his son both ascended to immortality. It is a rare and celebrated tale among the sword immortals. You mean to tell me you knew nothing of this, Brother Dog?"

"I've heard a little bit," Zhou Qian replied, touching his nose and speaking against his conscience.

"I suspect some water demons occasionally escape from the array to plague the villagers on both banks," speculated the young Taoist, Hu Ke.

"Whether that is true or not, we shall know once we go. I intend to accompany Brother Dog. Will you two join us? If not, you can wait for us in Chengdu," Jie Se said, displaying great loyalty.

"Slaying demons and eliminating evil is the duty of our kind. Count me, Hu Ke, in!"

Feng Feifei hesitated for a moment before saying, "I can go, but if there is real danger, I won't risk my life. And you must accompany me to catch that demon fox later!"

With the plan set, the three prepared to depart. Feng Feifei clapped her hands, and a giant mottled python, three or four zhang long and as thick as a water vat, burrowed out from the ground. She climbed onto its back. Jie Se flicked his kasaya, floating lightly into the air. Hu Ke held a yellow talisman and slapped it onto his lower leg; a golden light flared, and the faint image of a carriage and horses appeared. The three of them turned to look at Zhou Qian.

Zhou Qian felt quite awkward and said helplessly, "I haven't yet learned the art of sword flight, so I must travel on foot..."

Fortunately, Hu Ke said, "I have an extra set of military horse talismans. I'll lend them to you, Brother Zhou."

Zhou Qian thanked him, took the talisman, channeled his spiritual energy into it, and slapped it onto his leg. His body instantly felt light, and the spectral images of three stallions appeared in front of him, neighing incessantly. Each of his steps now covered the distance of three, allowing him to travel ten days' worth of distance in a single day.

During the journey, Zhou Qian learned of the others' cultivation levels. The monk Jie Se had the deepest practice; having opened the fifth consciousness—the consciousness of the body—among the nine consciousnesses of Buddhism, his cultivation was comparable to that of one who has refined energy into a nascent soul in the sword immortal tradition. Zhou Qian estimated that his own Qingyun Heart Sutra would need to reach at least the eighth level to match him. This was hardly surprising, as his master, Qingchanzi, was a great Buddhist master, second only to the four holy monks of the Small Leiyin Temple. Feng Feifei was self-taught, following the coiled-snake scriptures passed down in her village; her abilities were roughly on par with Zhou Qian's own. As for Hu Ke, his cultivation was the weakest. His master, Iron-Crowned Taoist, had practiced for two hundred years but was only at the level of refining energy into a nascent soul, falling short even of some disciples from major sects. Perhaps because of this, Hu Ke’s attitude toward Zhou Qian was overly enthusiastic, bordering on sycophantic.

Feng Feifei, unable to watch, scolded, "Kid, the Emei sect didn't want you, so now you're planning to suck up to Qingcheng?"

Hu Ke chuckled, unbothered, and said, "Only by placing bets on multiple sides can one maximize the chances of winning."

Zhou Qian looked at the two with amusement. According to the young Taoist Hu Ke, his master, the Iron-Crowned Taoist, had been an outer disciple of the Emei sect. Having failed to achieve mastery, he was driven down the mountain and later took Hu Ke as a disciple. He had hoped to recommend the boy to the sect, but the Emei sect valued innate talent and destiny above all else—they had no room for personal favors. Thus, the master and disciple had to slink away. Seeing Zhou Qian, it was clear that Hu Ke had developed new aspirations.

"If I ever achieve success in my cultivation, I would be happy to take you in, but I am merely a dabbler myself. I have no standing to recommend you to the sect," Zhou Qian said candidly. He did not dislike the young Taoist’s petty ways, but the seven great sects were strict about innate talent, character, and karmic affinity; he could not overstep his bounds.

Upon hearing this, Hu Ke slumped. The four traveled diligently, and after one day, they arrived at a village near the Dujiangyan Weir. As they entered, they heard much discussion, all centered on the "Dragon King taking a wife."

"Poor Wang family, three generations under one roof, and now the old must bury the young..."

"Last time it was a girl, this time a child. Who knows what they'll demand next? Truly insatiable!"

"Hush, keep quiet! You dare to speak ill of the Dragon King?"

The arrival of the four caught the attention of the villagers. A monk, a Taoist, a Qiang woman, and a white-clad man—the group was indeed striking. Jie Se said, "My Heavenly Ear can hear where the three children are being kept. Let's go see if there is anything unusual about them."

The others agreed. The first child was from a wealthy family. After the four explained their intentions, the family kept the gates bolted, refusing to open them. Feng Feifei, angered, summoned her giant mottled python, which smashed through the gate. The master of the house fainted on the spot, realizing only then that they were cultivators. The family began to wail and kowtow, begging for the grandson's life. The four examined the infant, who was still in his swaddling clothes, but found nothing extraordinary.

They reached the second location, a poor family, and encountered the same situation. When they arrived at the third, they were blocked by the master of the house.

The man was broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, with keen eyes. Clad in animal skins, he stood bent, ready to defend his home, his hunting bow drawn. "Are you immortals? The immortals from Mount Qingcheng have already been here! Which sect are you from? Or are you sent by the officials to take my boy away? Let me tell you, I, Sun Dayong, am no coward! Even if the Dragon King himself comes, I will shoot him dead. No one is taking my child!"

The three looked toward Zhou Qian. Zhou Qian was also puzzled. Where did these "Qingcheng immortals" come from? Could his seniors have heard of this and come to investigate?

"I am also a disciple of the Qingcheng sect. Where is this other immortal? Could we meet him?"

"The immortal went to investigate the demons in the water. He's not here, and you four had better not take another step!" the hunter Sun Dayong warned.

The four looked at each other in silence. Zhou Qian had no choice but to say, "Then we shall wait. I, too, wish to meet my fellow disciple."

Sun Dayong's home was at the foot of Mount Yulei. From there, one could see the Precious Bottle Mouth—seven zhang wide, twelve zhang high, and nearly thirty zhang deep. This was the first flood-discharge outlet. Though no traces of an array were visible, by observing with his spiritual eyes, Zhou Qian could see the vast, turbulent water vapor dispersing here, showing no signs of pooling. Even a great water demon, lacking the spiritual energy of the river, would be unable to stir up massive waves or wreak havoc.

Half an hour later, a beam of green light descended from the sky. Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes; it was the distinct Taiqing celestial energy of the Qingcheng sect.

A man appeared. He was quite ugly with a short stature, but his attire was unmistakably that of a Qingcheng disciple.

Seeing Zhou Qian, the man paused and tested him: "Are you Junior Brother Zhou Qian from Yuxu Peak?"

Zhou Qian returned the greeting respectfully: "I am indeed Zhou Qian. May I ask your name, Senior Brother? And how did you recognize me?"

"Haha, Junior Brother, you have quite a reputation in the sect! You have the lowest seniority, the shortest time since joining, and you are a personal disciple of Uncle Master Jiu. You are quite the figure! My name is Lu Sanguan, and my master is Master Nushan of Chongxuan Peak. I was ordered by my master to investigate this matter. And you, Junior Brother—"

"I heard the rumors on the road and met these fellow practitioners, so I came to take a look," Zhou Qian said with a wry smile. It was a case of the flood waters destroying the Dragon King’s temple—family members failing to recognize their own. He had heard of Lu Sanguan from his senior brother; though not blessed with good looks, he was a standout among the younger generation, possessing deep magic power that even Qin Yu would not dare claim to easily defeat.

"Has Senior Brother Lu discovered anything?"

Lu Sanguan shook his head: "Not a single clue. The three children all seem to have plenty of vitality. Could it be that the demon is truly just seeking a meal?"

"And the three women—"

"I fear they are beyond salvation."

"Such an evil creature must be destroyed!" Jie Se said indignantly. "Kidnapping innocent women—a beast doing what even I, a monk, would not dare to do!"

Zhou Qian suddenly felt that the strange dharma name his master, Qingchanzi, had given him was remarkably prophetic.