Chapter 65: The Carefree Cavern Deep Within the Bamboo Grove

“In these coming days, you shall cultivate atop Mount Meiji, first practicing the arts of transformation. Otherwise, walking about with a bamboo staff—even within the sect—will draw too much attention,” Wen Sukong said.

Cheng Xinzhai agreed; though he himself did not mind, others might find it disconcerting. “The ‘Guangcheng Edict of the Void, Following the Heart Incantation’ I taught you earlier already contains a spell for transformation. However, it is quite advanced and not easily mastered. Now, I will teach you the Art of Concealment, which may serve as a temporary measure.”

With that, she tapped the bamboo man’s head, employing the technique known as ‘Sweet Dew Enlightenment.’

As Cheng Xinzhai examined the spell with his mind, he saw that its essence lay in the transformation of the Five Elements. One must use the qi of the Five Elements to sketch an image within the heart, then manifest it outward. Ultimately, it was a technique for disguising and altering appearance, not for changing size or form.

If one wished to become a small shrine, it would suffice to use the Five Elements’ qi to outline the shrine’s shape and envelop oneself. But one could not shrink to the size of an ant and slip through narrow cracks, nor soar as an eagle through the sky, nor, as the legendary ‘Heaven and Earth Transformation,’ become as tall as a mountain.

These latter feats are the true arts of transformation; the Art of Concealment is, more aptly, an illusion.

Yet, the Art of Concealment should not be underestimated. With enough magical power and subtlety of thought, one might even create a small world—summoning weather, scents, and sounds with the Five Elements’ qi, forming a peerless illusion array.

For now, he merely manifested a human form.

With a thought, Cheng Xinzhai felt that this bamboo staff, intended by his teacher as an external incarnation, gave him the sensation of all five palaces open and brimming with magical power—surely due to the superior quality of the talisman seals within.

As his thoughts stirred, the Five Elements’ qi flowed, swirling and shifting, and a human shape enveloped the bamboo staff—Cheng Xinzhai’s original appearance.

“At present, I can only manifest a form; as for temperature, voice, and scent, I will need time to consider,” Cheng Xinzhai said, clasping his hands. His every gesture was indistinguishable from an ordinary person.

Wen Sukong forced down her astonishment, keeping a calm face. “Very well. For now, being able to manifest a form is already commendable.”

Cheng Xinzhai smiled, then asked, “Master, may I still absorb qi as before? Is my magical power stored within the talisman seals in these bamboo joints? I’ve contemplated the constellation of Altair, comprehended Solar Bing Fire and True Samadhi Fire—can all these be accumulated in the talismans? And what of internal spirits and flying swords—can they all be housed within?”

He asked much, but Wen Sukong only nodded once.

“This bamboo staff was passed down from my own master’s ancestor, who began with searching for bamboo shoots. It has taken three generations of effort. The talismans within are made from jade of Great Creek Cave, famed as ‘external dantian.’ For cultivators of the third or fourth realm, it is hard to say, but for your stage, you may treat it as your true flesh and blood.”

“To speak plainly, in terms of palaces and apertures, this bamboo staff has all three houses and five palaces opened—it’s the perfection of the first realm, lacking only the opening of the Yin-Yang Hall behind the eyes, which might birth spiritual intelligence.”

Cheng Xinzhai nodded—so that was the case.

“Once you cultivate the Thunder Arts, you may store thunder essence in the Thunder House of the bamboo body. When transforming true evil in your flesh with thunder essence, you will first resolve the urgency of the Thunder House, drive out true evil, then open the Thunder House and establish the internal spirit. With your internal spirit executing spells, you will gradually dissolve other true evils. You may continue to cultivate with the bamboo incarnation, comprehend the true meaning of immortal Dao, and when all true evil is removed from your flesh, you may return to your original body.”

Cheng Xinzhai agreed, finding it thorough and considerate.

“Settle on Mount Meiji for now, familiarize yourself with the bamboo body and the Art of Concealment. At least ensure your fellow disciples and friends cannot recognize you before descending. You have suffered enough hardship; don’t let your friends worry further.”

He smiled and accepted—this was exactly his intention.

“Now that you are a true disciple, you should move from Mount Wanfeng to establish your own Daoist sanctuary on Mount Meiji. The mountain is vast and sparsely populated, with many spiritual caves; you may choose one as your site.”

Once you have mastered the bamboo body, you may descend to audit the Thunder Arts at the Nine Heavens Primordial Palace. When the time comes, seek me—I will write a letter for you to present to Master Zhao, who will assign a tutor. Learn as you see fit; you are clever and courteous, there is little more to say.

“Also, should you lack anything while establishing your sanctuary, seek out the Administration Hall. It is their duty to assist true disciples in founding sanctuaries—seeds of plants, spiritual items, array flags, they have them all; choose as needed.”

Cheng Xinzhai agreed, then recalled another matter.

“Master, the flying sword that protected the Violet Palace—I took it from a disciple of Emei on Mount Shu. What should I do about this?”

Wen Sukong listened and asked him to recount how he claimed such a high-grade sword and how he entered the cursed cave.

Cheng Xinzhai related the sequence of events.

Wen Sukong frowned, saying, “No matter what, the disciple of Emei killed people from Redwood Ridge and Hundred Barbarian Mountain—you struck first against the Emei disciple. In terms of argument, we are at fault.”

“But there is no need for debate. In recent years, our Eastern Daoist sect and the Shu Daoist sect have been at odds; fighting and killing has gone far beyond mere words. You are not the first to take a life, nor will you be the last. They have initiated violence many times as well—it all comes down to ability.”

“This sword is suited to you and has already forged blood enmity; there is no returning it. They will not come to demand it—too humiliating. But you must be cautious when traveling; if robbed or slain, the matter would be unclear.”

Cheng Xinzhai nodded—this was only right.

“Oh, and this—the Red-haired Ancestor gave you a drop of heart blood as compensation. I have examined it carefully; it is pure, brimming with vital energy.”

“The Red-haired Ancestor was correct; you forcefully opened your heart palace in haste, preserving your life but leaving you with depleted blood and qi. When you dissolve the true evil in your flesh, you may consume this blood, refining it into your heart palace. It is, after all, heart blood from a long-cultivated Dao embryo—should restore your hidden injuries.”

“Moreover, I found a trace of dragon prestige in this blood. The legend that the Red-haired Ancestor’s true form is a brocade dragon is likely true. Since he willingly gave you this blood, he wishes to show goodwill—keep it in mind.”

“Additionally, when the Patriarch lectured on the Five Thunders that day, he omitted one point: among the Five Thunders, only Dragon Thunder requires one to possess dragon prestige to cultivate. Originally you had no hope, or would have needed to find dragon energy, but now, with this drop of blood, you may attempt the practice sooner. Pay attention as you cultivate the Thunder Arts.”

Wen Sukong handed over a white jade bottle, faintly transparent, with blood-red light within.

Cheng Xinzhai accepted it.

“That is all. You may withdraw and seek out a cave residence.”

Wen Sukong, as always, after finishing her instructions and imparting techniques, gave her dismissal.

Cheng Xinzhai took his leave, carrying his own flesh body.

After the disciple departed, Wen Sukong noticed the skirt she had given him for concealment was left behind. She flicked her finger, sending a flame to burn it to ashes.

———

Cheng Xinzhai left the “Zhan Biyun Bamboo Sanctuary” stele and wandered freely, searching for a suitable residence.

He had come to Mount Meiji before only to study techniques, always landing directly at “Liangjun Crossing” and then going to the bamboo sanctuary for lessons—he had never truly explored the mountain.

Now, wandering carefully, he discovered several pavilions and cottages, not just at the bamboo sanctuary. These must belong to elders of previous generations; Cheng Xinzhai avoided them respectfully, not wishing to intrude.

Mount Meiji was covered in green bamboo—long-stemmed, tall, hairy, water-weeping, Xiangfei, Phoenix-tail, Turtle-shell, Dragon-scale, and many other types. Eventually, he chose a grove of water-weeping bamboo on a sunny slope. The water-weeping bamboo was lush and emerald, dripping with verdant life.

The grove was rich in spiritual energy, and beside it lay a cliff, making it convenient for his cloud-roosting in the future.

Moreover, the name ‘water-weeping’ was auspicious for his coming cultivation of water thunder.

Water-weeping bamboo loves water; the grove must have a water vein. Venturing deeper, he found a small pool, its water a deep green and bottomless. Perched high on the mountain, it held no fish—for now, but he could raise some in the future.

Most surprising was a stone cave in the cliff near the pool, its entrance just wide enough for two people to walk abreast.

At first, he thought it might be an elder’s cave-dwelling, but upon cautious inspection, found it empty—a natural cave.

Inside, the cave was wider below and narrower above, shaped like a wine funnel, three or four fathoms wide at the base, but towering five or six fathoms to the top, separated from the cliff’s exterior by only a thin layer.

It was empty and clean, save for dust and stones.

Yet the cave was dim—lacking a skylight, which he disliked.

After confirming it was not someone else’s legacy, he summoned “Taodu” from his flesh body’s aperture and opened three large holes in the cave’s side-top, letting sunlight in, improving it greatly.

The fallen stones he gathered and shaped into a stone bed, then cast several minor spells for dust-repelling, wind-flowing, and water-gathering, making the cave fresh and comfortable.

He dressed his flesh body, placed it upon the stone bed, and used the newly learned Art of Concealment to disguise it.

Thus, this place became his cave-dwelling.

In time, he would plant spirit herbs and rare trees nearby, raise fish and birds, and lay arrays for gathering spirit, warning, and protection—then, it would be a proper, fledgling Daoist sanctuary.

He looked forward to it, making plans. At the cave entrance, he thought for a moment, then used “Taodu” to carve three characters into the stone wall:

Carefree Cave.

He glanced down at his own form, then back at his unmoving flesh body, and finally gazed out upon the boundless sea of bamboo. Suddenly, he sang aloud:

“Bamboo soul, bamboo spirit, bamboo essence,
Drifting to the banks of Xiang and Qi.
A thousand stalks, ten thousand stalks, vying for emerald green,
Drinking dew, breathing wind, through a thousand springs.”

End of Chapter One.

1. The final verse, as well as the origin of Cheng Yunqi’s name, come from the same author, Bai Yuchan, a southern master of Internal Alchemy.
2. At the start of the month, I ask for votes—so the book may be seen by more readers. Thank you all.

(End of chapter)