Chapter Seventeen: The Disciple

The little fox opened its eyes, and the first thing it saw was Yunhua, whom it clearly regarded as its mother. It immediately became more affectionate toward Yunhua, clinging to her shoulder every day and refusing to come down, as if Yunhua had suddenly acquired a white fox scarf. Even Liaochen couldn’t coax it off, prompting him to curse inwardly, “Ungrateful creature, truly ungrateful.” Yunhua, however, was utterly delighted. Having had few companions growing up, she seemed to find in the fox the long-cherished feeling she’d been yearning for, and treated the little creature with even greater kindness.

“Leisurely watching flowers bloom and fall, lying down to listen to clouds rise and fall”—these are the days that followers of Daoism and the teachings of Huang-Lao should enjoy. Life in the Daoist temple was tranquil and uneventful, until one day a small, round, dumpling-like boy struggled out of his mother’s embrace, insisting on walking by himself, only to abruptly vanish after plunging headlong into the Path of Heart.

The Path of Heart was an illusion array, designed to confront the hidden joys, sorrows, worries, and fears within people. If one's Dao-heart was clear and untroubled, they could pass through without hindrance, with no inner demons arising. The second type of person, possessing great wisdom and resolve, could cut off attachments and overcome the heart’s demons, though it would take longer. Liaochen could not say which path was preferable, but that little child, barely a few years old, was clearly not the second type.

Liaochen felt like he was becoming a babysitter, utterly disheveled by the wind. Oh heavens, why do you keep sending children to me? This is not a kindergarten!

Both Daoism and Buddhism speak of fate—Daoists have immortal fate, Buddhists have Buddha fate. Fate is nothing more than the manifestation of Heaven’s will. Following Heaven yields twice the results with half the effort, while going against it only earns a wry smile from Liaochen. Do you really think that by announcing “my fate is mine, not Heaven’s,” you can change what is ordained? Even if you struggle and manage to alter your destiny, how can you be sure this itself is not Heaven’s intention?

The child had come with his parents to pray to the Three Pure Ones for blessings and to enjoy a day out. Clearly born to a wealthy family, he wore fine silk, a large longevity lock hung around his neck, and his parents exuded a distinguished air, attended by a host of maids and servants. The boy couldn’t sit still in his mother’s arms and struggled to walk on his own. The mother, unable to resist, let him down, thinking it would be good for him to walk more. Unexpectedly, the child dashed from right to left, plunging into the Path of Heart and vanishing. The mother panicked and rushed after him, entering the array herself, but she could not see her child. Illusions swept over her, showing her a future where her child was lost. Her husband blamed her, her mother-in-law would not forgive, even her own parents criticized her. Every day she searched madly for her child, calling his name, searching for years. One day, she spotted a young Daoist walking down the street who looked much like her son. She hurried after him, grabbed his robe, and cried, “Son, come home with mother!” But when the Daoist turned, he was a monster with red hair and green eyes, who disdainfully asked, “Who are you looking for?” The mother was so frightened she broke down in tears, feeling her life had lost all meaning. She walked to the river outside the city and jumped in. The water was freezing cold, she could not breathe, and began to struggle desperately. At that moment, she sensed something strange nearby, and saw her husband at her side, his face full of concern, asking, “Are you all right?” Only then did the mother realize she had been trapped by an illusion, yet she still anxiously asked, “Where is our son?” Her husband smiled and said, “Don’t worry, this is an immortal’s temple, they cannot go far. You and our son entered the Path of Heart laid by Immortal Liaochen to choose disciples. Many have passed through, and nothing happened. Perhaps our son has an immortal fate!” After speaking, he curiously asked, “What did you see inside?” The young mother replied irritably, “Aren’t you worried about our son at all? I saw him disappear, ran everywhere to find him, you blamed me and abandoned me, my mother-in-law disliked me. Just when I finally saw our son again, he turned out to be a monster…” Her husband burst out laughing, “Some see mountains of gold and silver inside, some see themselves passing the imperial exams, others see beautiful companions. Only you would see a monster while searching for your son.” The young mother, furious, punched him a few times and said, “What’s so funny?” Seeing his wife embarrassed and angry, he stopped teasing, took out a handkerchief, gently wiped her tears, and said, “You cried inside, didn’t you? Wipe them away, or others will laugh.” His wife blushed deeply, shot him a glare, and no longer insisted on entering the Path of Heart. Still shaken by the illusion, she could only wait at the roadside with her husband for their son to emerge.

Meanwhile, the little dumpling was having a grand time in the Path of Heart. Monkeys played with him, squirrels brought him fruit, and all sorts of animals appeared, making him so happy he forgot everything else. Liaochen, watching from the mountain, was almost beside himself. Who passes the Path of Heart like this? Isn’t the child afraid at all? Fortunately, he was still inside and hadn’t yet emerged. Just as Liaochen thought this, the child suddenly said, “Everyone, I have to go back now. Otherwise, mother will worry. Can I come find you again next time?” The moment he finished speaking, the dumpling saw through the illusion, the array vanished, and he saw his parents again. He rushed into his mother’s arms, acting spoiled, unaware that Liaochen on the mountain was nearly floored by the absurdity of it all.

The temple had to receive visitors praying and burning incense. Liaochen disliked tending to mundane affairs in the front hall, Yunhua was too young, and the little fox was out of the question. So Liaochen recruited several resident Daoists to help greet guests, manage daily affairs, interpret divination slips, and collect offerings.

Normally, Liaochen avoided appearing before visitors, but he had no choice with the little dumpling's family.

“Boundless longevity and good fortune,” Liaochen greeted the parents with a Daoist bow.

“Oh, oh, the immortal master!” The dumpling’s parents were excited, and the other visitors turned to look, as if seeing a celebrity.

“I would like to invite you to the side hall for a conversation, if you are agreeable?” Liaochen asked, his eyes occasionally glancing at the child in his mother’s arms. The little dumpling, with rosy lips and sparkling white teeth, was soft and pink like a white bun. His eyes darted about, making him look especially adorable, but no doubt mischievous.

“Master, you are too kind. It is an honor for us.” The dumpling’s father replied politely. When his son had emerged from the Path of Heart with no sign of distress, he guessed that his child might truly have an immortal’s fate. He was both joyful and worried. Joyful that his son had a fate others could only dream of, gained effortlessly. Worried because he was reluctant to let his child leave home so young to cultivate, and his wife would not accept it. He also hoped his son would marry and achieve success, but entering the Daoist path would make that impossible.

Liaochen understood the father’s feelings and said little more. He simply gestured, “Please,” and led the family to the side hall. Once seated, Liaochen sat to one side, the father to another, while the mother held her son beside her husband. The maids and servants waited outside.

Liaochen summoned a few cups of fragrant tea, which appeared beside each person as if by magic. The tea was steaming hot and aromatic, clearly freshly brewed and no ordinary kind. The dumpling’s parents were startled, but the child was fascinated by the tea. His mother, keeping a close eye, grabbed his pudgy hand to prevent him from touching it.

“I wish to take your son as my disciple. What do you think?” Liaochen asked.

“Thank you, immortal master, for your favor. We are naturally delighted, but our son is still so young. Is it not too soon? Also, the old lady at home is very fond of him. We should inform her first.” The father was somewhat troubled.

Liaochen smiled, “Ah, Master Liu, you have only this child and he is still young, so it is not suitable for him to leave his parents yet. Cultivation is not like martial arts—earlier is not always better. It requires calmness and peace of mind, which is not ideal for a child. How about letting him stay at home to enjoy filial piety, and come to the mountain at eight years old to hear lectures? Twice a year, each visit half a month. In the Daoist tradition, unlike Buddhist nuns, marriage is up to the individual and not forbidden.”

Master Liu was not surprised that Liaochen knew his name. If the immortal master lacked such ability, he would not entrust his son to him. Hearing the immortal's words, Master Liu breathed a long sigh of relief. “My only concerns are my mother’s reluctance and the matter of family lineage. Our family is small, so it is difficult. Since you show such favor, it is my son’s blessing.” He then beckoned to his son, “Hong’er, come, bow to your master.”

Strangely, the usually mischievous child became solemn, walked over, knelt respectfully before Liaochen, and gave three proper bows, sweetly calling him “Master.” His parents were astonished, sighing that fate is Heaven’s will.

After the child finished bowing, Liaochen took a Daoist scripture from his sleeve and said, “I bestow upon you a volume of Daoist scripture. Take it home and have your tutor teach you to read it. From now on, be filial to your parents, friendly to your neighbors, and kind to others. Do not be unruly.”

“Yes, Master.” The child’s manners were excellent and he accepted the scripture respectfully, then glanced outside. Liaochen smiled, “That is your senior sister. You may go greet her and ask her to play with you. Go!” The dumpling, as if pardoned, immediately returned to his lively self, bouncing away to play with his senior sister.

Once the child left, Liaochen and Master Liu began to converse. The more they talked, the more Liaochen realized Master Liu was no ordinary man—knowledgeable and eloquent, their conversation was highly enjoyable. Only when Yunhua and the dumpling came together with the little white fox to pay their respects did they notice the hour was late and ended their discussion. Liaochen invited the family to dinner and to stay the night. The next day, amid the dumpling’s reluctant tears, the family bid farewell—the child was unwilling to leave his senior sister and the little fox, but had no such feelings for his master.

With two disciples now set, Liaochen suddenly sensed his merit was complete and worldly affairs finished; the day of forming his golden core was near. He ordered the mountain gates to be temporarily closed, set up protective arrays around the temple and its surroundings, then, after instructing Yunhua, ventured alone deep into the mountain, found a place rich in spiritual energy, carved out a cave residence, laid down a great array, and used spirit stones obtained from Xuanxuzi to create a gathering spirit formation—preparing to begin his secluded cultivation and transcendence.