Chapter 110: Daoist Qingxuan Daochang: How Bitterly These Daoists Must Live

Spring wind stirred blossoms, swirling like ribbons above the temple.

The courtyard was silent, save for the sound of water-diluted scrubbing.

The junior sister carefully washed the pine needles she had picked, placing them into several porcelain jars beside her, then added water from the mountain spring, and as she looked down, the clear spring water rippled into white foam among the needles.

"Mmm…"

She promptly sealed the lids with clay.

During a break, she turned her head.

Beside her, an older brother sat on a small stool, washing gathered pigeon leaves in a wooden basin. A fox lay nearby, watching them with confusion—especially her.

The junior sister felt a slight itch on her cheek, turned her head and rubbed her arm against it, then winced in pain.

"Mmm?"

The fox tilted its head, even more puzzled.

Since the older brother learned the part of the Beast-Taming and Bird-Calling art that allowed communication with flying and terrestrial creatures, Good Fuyao's expressions had become more nuanced, as he now understood her intentions.

But the junior sister still could not understand.

She could only hear the older brother reply as he washed:

"Of course you can't spit fire."

"Mm?"

"Honey is painstakingly made by bees. We're already stealing it—that's already wrong. If we then burn the bees alive with fire, I'll never learn Fourth Third Shixiong's arts."

"..."

The fox lay still, half-understanding.

The junior sister glanced at them and guessed what the fox was asking.

"I'm not in pain!"

So she spoke to the fox.

Lin Jue smiled and kept working.

Pigeon leaves are also called Immortal Ye Zi or Guanyin Ye Zi—just from the name, one can tell how astonished people were when they first discovered it could be eaten, filled with gratitude for nature's bounty. Yet some common folk transferred this gratitude to gods and buddhas.

After washing the leaves, Lin Jue changed the water and kneaded the gathered leaves into pulp.

These leaves had a fresh fragrance and a mucilaginous quality; soon the water turned thick and translucent, glowing a deep jade green.

"Wet Third Shixiong, I'm done."

The junior sister stood up after finishing her task.

It seemed like a report of completion, but given her nature, she was really asking if there was anything else she could help with—begging for more work.

"Bring some ash from the stove."

"Oh!"

The junior sister didn't know what he intended, but did as told.

The monastery cooked only with wood and grass, so the ash was very clean. She took a bit, mixed it with water as instructed, strained it through a clean cloth, and let it settle.

She then saw the older brother take another cloth and strain the emerald-green juice into the basin, skimming off the foam.

Both the girl and the fox watched intently, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Making pigeon tofu works the same way as konjac or steamed egg—good texture and smoothness require eliminating bubbles. So we skim first."

Seeing their interest, Lin Jue casually explained.

Unnoticed, several other brothers had gathered nearby.

These Daoists were truly idle—most were quite old, yet they came over, stared in fascination, said nothing, and squatted beside the junior sister and the fox, eyes wide.

Occasionally they glanced at the transformed junior sister.

The wood-ash water had now settled sufficiently.

Lin Jue looked at the emerald juice, picked up a small bowl, as if calculating how many bowls of water the juice equaled, then measured out one bowl of ash water and poured it into the basin.

Already filtered and clarified, the ash water looked quite clean—only slightly gray compared to plain water.

"Stir it again, mix well, until all the foam on top disappears—that's when it'll look right," Lin Jue said. "But I can't recall the exact ratio—it's probably close enough. I wonder if it'll turn out strange."

The brothers finally turned to look:

"What is this, younger brother?"

"Just a snack."

"How do you eat it?"

"You'll know in twenty minutes."

So the brothers and the fox sat waiting.

The basin held a deep emerald, like still deep lake water—but somehow, the liquid had quietly congealed. Still, it remained tender, shimmering under the skylight, its solidity invisible.

Until the spring wind blew azalea petals onto its surface.

The petals floated, not sinking.

Lin Jue reached out and lifted them away.

Unintentionally, his finger brushed the emerald beneath—and instead of sinking or wetting, the surface trembled and quivered under pressure.

It seemed quite elastic.

"Younger brother, has twenty minutes passed?" Third Third Shixiong tapped the ground with a stick.

"Almost. But it's ready."

Lin Jue took a knife and, under everyone's fixed gaze, carved a grid into the basin, lifting out a block of the substance.

It remained emerald, beautifully green, now solidified—had it not been so soft and springy, it would have looked like a single slab of jade, or a piece of still, deep autumn water carefully harvested.

No cutting board needed—he spread it on his palm, and the knife sliced it effortlessly into small cubes, placing them into a bowl.

Fresh honey was poured over, piling into mounds, slowly melting.

Dried osmanthus from last year rained down like scattered stars.

A single peach petal, gifted by the mountain wind, landed perfectly in the bowl.

Lin Jue lifted the bowl with one hand and offered it to his sister: "You worked hard—this first bowl is yours. Stir it before eating."

"No no no! Wet Brothers are here too! Give it to the brothers!"

"Take it."

"Oh…"

The junior sister finally accepted the bowl.

The batch was enough to serve everyone—one bowl each.

Even Daoist Yunhe Daoist had, at some point, brought out a reclining chair and lay before the Banshipoint Hall, enjoying the spring breeze, watching petals dance in the air, sipping a bowl of dark emerald pigeon tofu.

Finally, Lin Jue took his own.

Still small emerald cubes, honey and osmanthus—he stirred them casually with a spoon, then scooped a bite into his mouth.

The first batch turned out quite well.

Not too watery or shapeless from insufficient ash water, nor too hard or brittle from too much—perfectly soft and springy, with the fresh fragrance of pigeon leaves.

Honey was a fine thing—its virtue lay in its taste, but only fresh honey, gathered when flowers bloomed, carried the true scent of the bloom. Now, with peach and azalea in season, the honey carried a clear, delicate sweetness of peach blossom.

The fragrance of pigeon leaves, peach blossom, osmanthus, and cool sweetness combined into a delightful flavor.

"Delicious!"

"Only Younger Third Shixiong could do this."

"Younger Third Shixiong, why not write this down as a book? Make it our monastery's eighth ancestral technique?"

"Hahahaha…"

The brothers laughed and turned to look behind them—Daoist Yunhe Daoist, seated under the eaves with his bowl, was smiling too.

Lin Jue only smiled, saying nothing.

Oh—

As if suddenly remembering, he rose again, using the last bit of pigeon tofu to make one more bowl, to offer to the Mountain God.

Yishan had many Daoist temples, yet none had shrines or statues for the Mountain God—but none were needed, for the entire mountain was his sacred ground; this Fuxiu Peak was his domain. Simply find a quiet spot, light three incense sticks, and silently speak his name.

"Huh…"

But no sooner had he lit the incense and offered the bowl than a sudden wind swept through the mountains, snatching away the bowl and spoon.

Likely carried deep into Yishan.

…

Several days later, amid blooming mountain flowers.

A group of Daoists still sat admiring the blossoms.

Same as before—braised meat, cakes, pigeon tofu, and wine—but now also the junior sister's jars.

Breaking the clay seal, the jar held pine needles and water; the spring water had turned slightly tinted, and when poured out, it bubbled visibly. The junior sister leaned close, examined it, then took a sip.

"Huh?"

The water had no odd flavors—only the pine needle's fragrance and honey's sweetness—but it felt full of air, releasing bubbles in her mouth, leaving her strangely puzzled.

"Strange… but delicious."

At this point, under Fifth Third Shixiong's skill, the junior sister had regained her original face. She widened her eyes, astonished.

She poured the second cup for her Master, then for the older brother, then watched secretly.

The Master sipped, frowned, also puzzled.

The older brother sipped, then narrowed his eyes, a hint of nostalgia in them.

At this moment, everyone urged her on.

Only then did the junior sister stop observing and carefully pour out portions for everyone.

They laughed and ate freely.

As they chatted, the fox glanced down the mountain, leaned toward the small bowl, licked a few times, smacked its lips, then rose and walked down the mountain.

Above, the mountain was blue sky and white clouds; below, the mist was thick.

It was precisely the season for azaleas in bloom—these azaleas had grown for countless years, blooming amid mountain mist, beside the path or overhead, their pale pink and red petals faintly visible.

With these flowers along the ancient mountain path, the deep solitude grew even more tranquil.

Three Daoists were walking along the narrow trail.

"Could we have taken a wrong turn?"

Daoist Daoist Qingxuan walked while looking up; above, the deep mountain mist was filled with blooming flowers—an unmistakable beauty, rare elsewhere, yet strangely mysterious and profound.

"Third Shixiong Daoist, don't fear," came a calm, cold voice from beside him. "Even if we're lost, it's still Yishan. The mountain spirit of Yishan isn't weaker than a True Lord—there's no danger."

"It's actually quite beautiful!"

"..."

"What's this flower called? Let's dig up a few and plant them on Qiyun Mountain when we leave!"

"..."

"Sigh, why are the temples of the Lingfa Sect so remote and hard to find? So far from the mortal world—how tough must their mountain life be, don't you think?"

"..."

No one answered him. Daoist Daoist Qingxuan found his muttering dull and turned to look at Third Shixiong Ma.

"Yes, Elder Third Shixiong."

Third Shixiong Ma nodded.

As they spoke, a white shadow flashed through the woods.

"Something's there!"

The pale-skinned female Daoist gripped her flywhisk tightly.

The others instantly grew alert, scanning the thick mist and the ancient trees and mountain flowers within it.

They had come to Yishan with some talismans summoned and prayers offered to the spirits, but only ordinary protective and exorcism talismans—enough for minor night demons and ghosts below, yet Yishan's qi was dense and sealed off for years—who knew what great demons or ghosts might lurk here?

Again, a white shadow flashed through the woods.

It was a long-bodied white fox, its long, fluffy tail trailing behind as it leapt lightly through the trees, hovering gracefully mid-air, then pausing atop moss-covered, blooming ground, tilting its head to gaze at them.

"Don't rush!" Daoist Daoist Qingxuan studied it closely. "Could this be the white fox kept by Lin Jue?"

He spoke while staring intently at the fox.

Soon, he confirmed it.

Then the fox turned and leapt lightly into the deeper forest, vanishing into the mist. They were puzzled and took a few steps to search, when suddenly the white fox reappeared—still facing away, standing deep among the mountain flowers and mist, staring back at them.

Seeing them approach, it took another step forward.

One step covered more than ten feet.

The three instantly understood—it was guiding them.

So the three Daoists followed the fox. Soon, the mist above grew thinner, the sky above brighter, until a faint blue shimmered through the mist—they had entered the hidden depths of the mountain flowers.

Suddenly, a song echoed through the mountains.

They turned toward the sound—

A group of Daoists sat beneath the trees: one sang loudly, others chatted, some ate and drank alone, others smiled quietly; the ground was covered in flowers, and every Daoist was dusted with petals.

A faint, elusive scent of food drifted through the air.

"This..."

The Daoists from Xuantian Guan stared, stunned.

Even the life of immortals couldn't be better than this.