Heaven-Subduing Scripture

At the question, Zhang Qianyang gave a humph.

”Your master in his day was something fierce — renowned, who quelled countless heaven’s-proud sons. Truly, the loneness of high places, lonely as flying snow…”

Li Daoxuan showed a flicker of doubt; this sounded… rather like boasting?

Smack!

Zhang Qianyang rapped his head.

”Less prattle — stand steady!”

Li Daoxuan gritted his teeth and held on, certain his master was simply venting embarrassment in revenge.

Half an hour later.

The incense at last burned out; Li Daoxuan flopped to the ground with a thud, drenched in sweat, both legs trembling.

So tired!

Now the sky’s edge showed fish-belly white; the red sun rose, first light faint; heaven and earth seemed veiled in gauze, breathing a faint purple qi.

Zhang Qianyang hoisted Li Daoxuan by the arm, stepped, and in an instant the two were atop the roof.

”Quick, sit and gather — your master will teach you a profound art.”

Li Daoxuan bore his aching body and forced a seated posture, listening earnestly.

”This art is called the Purple-Qi Nourishing-Yuan Art; it must be practiced at the mao hour. Now the sun first rises, heaven-and-earth’s yin and yang turn and flow, and birthing purple qi appears. This art uses that purple qi to nourish the body, regulate blood and qi — with the wondrous effect of ’polishing the marrow from the hair, washing the bone from the womb, shedding the mortal shell for a new one’!”

Li Daoxuan’s eyes lit; he had taken up the Way midway, only at nineteen, and lagged in tempering the body — practicing this art might swiftly mend his shortcoming!

”Now, purple qi is the root of the Great Dao, the mother of heaven and earth; one yin, one yang, birthing all things. In man it is the breath of breathing; in heaven, the parting of cold and heat…”

Under Zhang Qianyang’s unstinting teaching, Li Daoxuan closed his eyes, his heart-lake clear, and the rhythm of his breath slowly changed — deep, shallow, shallow, deep…

He gradually forgot his bodily ache; jade-nectar formed in his mouth, a clean fragrance at his nose; he seemed bathed in warm spring, soothed and relaxed.

Shock showed in Zhang Qianyang’s eyes.

He had not expected that on his first practice of the art, Li Daoxuan would so swiftly enter the state.

Now Li Daoxuan was wreathed in wisps of purple qi; with every breath a portion flowed into him, refining the body, washing away turbid qi.

Zhang Qianyang nodded, a comforted smile on his lips.

At last his learning had found an heir.

Though Li Daoxuan had entered late, his gifts were outstanding, and with his teaching the lad’s future achievement would be no small thing.

Of course — still a hair beneath his own master…

Zhang Qianyang too closed his eyes and began practicing the same art.

Upon the broken thatch roof, old and young sat cross-legged, hands in Dao-seals, bathing in rosy light, breathing purple qi — even the rhythm of their breath was identical.

This chapter was taken from the NovelPhoenix site without consent, although its author publishes it there.

One hour later.

Li Daoxuan opened his eyes; a purple gleam flashed, and his pupils turned faint violet, then slowly returned to normal over a few breaths.

Li Daoxuan leapt down; without working Shrinking the Earth, he landed light as a feather, unharmed.

Joy lit his eyes — this art was wondrous indeed; a single hour of practice not only swept away his aches but left his body feeling lightened.

”Purple qi is heaven-and-earth’s purest, cleanest qi. You absorb it to refine the body — of course it expels turbid and exalts clear, lightens the body and lengthens life. Nothing to marvel at.”

Zhang Qianyang opened his eyes, ending his practice, and smiled at his somewhat excited disciple.

”Yet do not grow proud. Though you absorbed purple qi on your first try, talents like yours — Mount Longhu has no fewer than eighty, perhaps a hundred. This is but an ordinary art, not hard.”

Li Daoxuan heard this and restrained his joy, thinking to himself that beyond men there are men, beyond heaven there is heaven.

Little did he know this was Zhang Qianyang’s lie, lest he grow proud. It was no ordinary method, but a secret celestial-master art of Mount Longhu — only true disciples might practice it.

It ranked among the very finest arts of Mount Longhu for tempering the body!

Then Zhang Qianyang had Li Daoxuan practice sword forms a whole morning — only the basics: thrust, snap, cloud, wipe, cleave…

In Zhang Qianyang’s words, sword art most dreads flourish; master the basics and it suffices. When cultivation suffices and you achieve sword-flight, even the martial world’s Sword Gods and Sword Saints cannot block your flying sword’s slash!

After the sword practice Li Daoxuan dripped with sweat, while Zhang Qianyang ate and drank his fill — gnawing steamed cakes, sipping congee.

Li Daoxuan swallowed.

”Master, did you not say cultivators must Bigu? Why do you still eat?”

He had taken the Bigu Pill; though he could go seven days without hunger, the craving of the mouth remained.

”Ha — cultivators above the Bigu realm have bodies already pure and flawless; to satisfy the palate a little does no harm.”

Li Daoxuan glared at him and turned away — out of sight, out of mind.

Afterward Zhang Qianyang let his disciple nap; in the afternoon he roused him for lessons.

Daoist scriptures, demons, talismans, spells…

Zhang Qianyang spoke with fluent ease, opening his disciple’s horizons with vivid, concrete examples.

When lessons ended, Zhang Qianyang focused on teaching talisman-drawing, letting the disciple practice by hand while he pointed out flaws.

And at dusk came Li Daoxuan’s free time; he found his master had a quirk — at sunset he would early hide in his coffin and sleep.

What normal man likes sleeping in a coffin?

Li Daoxuan shook his head; he did not rest at once, but began practicing the Pengzu Valley-Immortal Sleeping Induction Exercise, accumulating mana bit by bit, until the moon reached midnight and he sank into sleep.

…

Days passed; this stretch was very full for Li Daoxuan.

Rise early for horse-stance, then practice Purple-Qi with his master, then sword, nap, lessons, talismans, finally a bath and the Pengzu Valley-Immortal Sleeping Induction Exercise, then deep sleep…

One gave his all to teach, the other thirsted to learn; Li Daoxuan could feel himself speeding forward, in body and in cultivation, growing stronger every day.

So half a month passed.

One afternoon, Li Daoxuan sat alone at a table drawing a talisman — the Paralysis Talisman.

His master seemed to have business today and had given him a day off.

But Li Daoxuan did not go wandering; he chose to practice the Paralysis Talisman.

Brush roamed like dragon and snake; with cinnabar he traced mysterious, arcane patterns, and his mana drained unceasingly.

Talismans are the script of the gods, exceedingly complex, with many strictures; Li Daoxuan spent near a month before he barely mastered this one.

After a time he set down the brush, a gleam of joy in his eyes.

The Paralysis Talisman — done!

This was the first talisman he had learned wholly by himself, not through the Heaven-Subduing Demon Scripture; naturally his heart was glad.

Just then the temple door was pushed open and Zhang Qianyang walked in, a trace of weariness in his eyes.

In his hand he carried a green oil-paper umbrella.

”Master, I’ve successfully drawn the Paralysis Talisman!”

Li Daoxuan said happily.

Zhang Qianyang laughed heartily; his weariness vanished; he clapped Li Daoxuan’s shoulder. ”Good, good — you nearly match your master in his day!”

He took a jade vial from his breast and, with the oil-paper umbrella, handed both to Li Daoxuan.

”These days your master entrusted a friend to refine that bat demon’s core into this Longhu Golden Elixir; taking it adds ten years of cultivation — enough for you to break into early Bigu.”

Li Daoxuan was moved; so his master’s trip out today was to fetch the elixir for him.

”As for this oil-paper umbrella — heh, it’s a fine treasure. Open it and you’ll see.”

Zhang Qianyang waggled his brows, mischievous.

Doubting, Li Daoxuan opened the oil-paper umbrella; the next moment a chill crept into his heart, and his back went cold.

A few strands of long hair fell upon his neck, tickling.

Li Daoxuan turned his head — and saw that familiar wedding dress…