Chapter 66: Carving Beans into Soldiers

I was thinking—yesterday down the mountain, all those merchants called us True Persons. I wondered: can we ever become the ‘True Persons’ they speak of?

That’s merely their form of respect.

I know.

Sister, your talent is exceptional—why worry about failing to attain the True? Besides, as long as you strive, perhaps at life’s end, when you look back, you’ll find your destination lies not where you originally imagined.

Where then?

On the way. In the places you’ve already walked.

!

The junior sister froze, lifting her gaze to fix him with a stare.

By now, they had reached the mountain’s upper reaches; the newly built steps ended, and ahead lay the old, rough path. The stone walls beside them were steep and jagged, but one could still climb to the summit with hands and feet.

Lin Jue halted here for two steps.

Sister, I’m going to the summit.

I’ll keep repairing the path!

They exchanged a glance, then parted ways.

The junior sister had already repaired the path up to the peak.

She crouched on the mountain, slicing through rocks with her hands, hurling the large stones down the cliff, then smoothing the stone surface again and again with her palms. When the mountain wind blew, the summit was covered in fine white sand.

This place was dangerous; one could never stop worrying she might fall.

If one looked upward, one saw strange peaks and bizarre rocks—Lin Jue sat in meditation atop the peak, the little fox seated beside him, its fur fluttering wildly in the wind.

Master Baiyun had said that though we cultivate Yin-Yang Spirit Law, and it seems sufficient to absorb Yin-Yang spiritual essence, heaven and earth naturally brim with spiritual qi; in places of scenic beauty, gathering more of heaven and earth’s spiritual essence is never a bad thing.

So one practiced spells, the other cultivated spirit law.

The two were very close.

When the junior sister grew tired from repairing the path, she sat down to eat wild fruits.

Sometimes she even slept on the cliff faces.

The little fox, bored, poked at the stones on the ground, as if trying to dig a hole into them.

Sometimes it grew truly bored, or was drawn by something in the mountains, and leapt down like a gazelle or leopard, sniffing here and there. Occasionally, it encountered mountain spirits who, upon learning it was a fox raised by the Daoists of Fuxiang Peak’s Fuxiang Shrine, would play with it.

Only Lin Jue cultivated with the utmost focus.

How long had passed?

Huh…

Lin Jue suddenly opened his eyes and exhaled a white breath.

After careful reflection, his spiritual progress had not been slow—but how far still remained from the ‘True Person’ of body-transcending transformation that Wang Jizi had spoken of?

People down the mountain often respectfully called Daoists ‘True Persons,’ but most Daoists were unworthy of the title.

At the time, Wang Jizi had spoken vaguely; later, Lin Jue had earnestly asked Master Baiyun, and only then learned that the seemingly common term ‘True Person’ originally referred to those who had truly attained the Dao.

In ancient times, when heaven had no palaces and immortals dwelled among mortals, the ‘True Persons’ spoken of by the Spirit Law sect were those who could ascend to immortality.

Ascend the mountain, and you are an immortal; dwell among mortals, and you are a True Person.

One could say the Spirit Law sect’s True Persons were immortals—there was no real distinction of strength or rank between them.

In ancient times, many great beings were also called True Persons.

Even now, Daoists of the Spirit Law sect, once they become True Persons, if they wish and face no obstacles, can fully ascend to heaven and become immortals—not mere minor deities like heavenly soldiers, earth spirits, or divine attendants. If their reputation among mortals is strong enough, they may even earn the title ‘True Lord.’

Yet even such immortals do not last forever, nor can they be called truly mighty. Like most divine lords above the nine heavens today, their divine power is limited and their lifespan finite; countless have risen and fallen since ancient times.

Thus above them came the Great Beings and True Immortals.

Now, even the Talisman Sect calls Daoists who have attained certain high-rank talisman offices ‘True Persons.’ Though still dwelling among mortals, these Daoists have already completed their cultivation, their names inscribed among the nine heavens, awaiting only the completion of merit to naturally ascend after death and become immortals—this is the ultimate goal of Talisman Sect cultivators.

If I could become a True Person, perhaps I might know a little freedom in this world.

Lin Jue thought so.

But it was not a near thing.

Sigh…

Lin Jue paused to rest, took out wild fruits, gave one to the fox beside him, then slowly peeled and ate his own.

Bored, he lay down to feel the wind.

The fox imitated him, lying down too.

The mountain’s heaven and earth were truly vast.

Until the junior sister shouted from below.

Evening comes down the green mountain; the mountain moon follows the traveler home.

…

Lin Jue was never idle—he cultivated daily, cooked meals, and when free, emptied the monastery’s overly salty and sour pickled vegetables, and, taking advantage of the summer-to-autumn season’s abundance of vegetables, made several new jars.

He also ate another Giant Spirit Pill.

This one had very little effect.

No wonder Wang Jizi had set such rules—nearly everyone received one pill, most got two. One pill already worked well; two were merely icing on the cake; a third? Merely better than nothing—and certainly not a reward.

The elders’ heart.

July gradually passed; the weather grew cooler again.

The change was especially clear in the mountains.

The cool breeze brushing the treetops carried not a trace of heat; even in the afternoon, sitting in the courtyard felt no longer warm, but refreshingly cool under the mountain wind.

Now two sat beneath the pines.

One wore a loose Daoist robe, holding a wine gourd, speaking at length; the other sat opposite, listening intently.

Neither used a mat nor a stool or chair—only sat casually on the ground.

The legendary ‘Sowing Beans to Create Soldiers’—an immortal grabs a handful of beans and scatters them on the ground, instantly forming an army of thousands. Do we have such power? We can only call it ‘Carving Beans into Soldiers.’

One must find ancient or spirit-infused wood in the mountains, carve it into soldiers according to spells, refine it with heaven’s spiritual qi and the essence of sun and moon, then summon lingering souls to grant them sentience. When used, one hurls them forth, chants the incantation, and they naturally transform into armored soldiers upon landing. Though intricate, the general process is this.

It’s a time-consuming task.

If you wish to learn, I still have some leftover wood from my early days—useless to me now. Take it. Save you the trouble of venturing deep into the mountains and stealing from someone’s trees, only to have them come knocking.

Third Master looked in good spirits, in good humor, and as he spoke, he took two more swigs of wine.

Lin Jue’s month of cooking was likely the best-fed month the monastery had seen in years. The monastery was already idle, with little to do and few worries; daily meals, sleep, and cultivation were the top priorities. Now that meals had improved greatly, and the cool weather made sleep more comfortable, everyone’s mood lifted.

Then thank you, Third Brother.

We’re brothers—why be so formal? Though some lack decency! Third Master raised his wine gourd, drank deeply, and sighed, ‘Only recently did I learn someone drank the Thousand-Day Wine brewed by the Mountain Lord on Langtou Mountain, got an extra cup, and—out of pity for the demon—gave it to a wolf demon instead of bringing it back for me to drink!’

We didn’t know you loved wine back then. But now that we do, I brought you wine when I went down the mountain!

Ha! Third Master laughed, then added, ‘Besides the wood, you’ll need a fine carving knife—it must be bought down the mountain, and it’s not cheap.’

Carving knife?

It’s a delicate tool, like a barber’s razor. A full set costs about ten or so taels of silver.

…

Ten or so taels of silver?

That stumped him.

Lin Jue had once had twenty taels of silver, but early this month he’d sent it down to his uncle and aunt to help them withstand floods or improve their lives. He’d assumed there’d be no need for money on the mountain—yet only a dozen days later, a need had appeared.

Where would the money come from?

Would Master reimburse him?

‘What? No money? So what? With this whole Yishan Mountain and your skills, can you really be stopped by a few taels?’ Third Master shook his head, carefree. ‘Wild game, rare herbs, or even steal a few pills from Second Brother and sell them down the mountain—ten taels would come easily.’

…

Third Master laughed again, dropped the subject, and began explaining the basic principles of ‘Carving Beans into Soldiers.’ When he grew enthusiastic, he offered Lin Jue a sip from his wine gourd.

Gradually, dusk fell.

A knock came at the door.

Several middle-aged men in decent clothing stood at the entrance, hesitant to enter, only leaning half their bodies inside, glancing left and right, as if afraid of offending something.

Hearing the two speaking of Dao inside, they exchanged glances, puzzled, then whispered: ‘May we ask, honorable Daoists—is this Fuxiang Shrine?’

It is.

Lin Jue and Third Master exchanged a glance, then both rose.

Gentlemen, please enter.

Are you here to offer incense?

Oh! So this is Fuxiang Shrine! We’ve come to offer incense—and to beg the Daoists to come down the mountain and help us! The lead man hurried forward. ‘We’re all from Yixian County. We heard your monastery’s high Daoist captured demons in Yixian recently and recovered silver. But now the demons are stirring again—we’ve come specifically to beg your aid!’

The other men followed close behind, their faces gaunt, clearly worn down by torment; now, standing here, their eyes glowed with hope.

Lin Jue listened, surprised.

The city had been quiet so long—he’d assumed the demon plague was over, or that the Daoists of Qiyun Mountain had already arrived and eradicated the demons. Yet after so long, someone had come knocking.