Gateway of Immortality

That evening, Qin Sang and Ming Yue performed their evening ritual together, studying the Daoist scriptures.

Just like with the Netherworld Scripture, Qin Sang couldn’t fully understand these texts. Fortunately, Daoist Jixin patiently explained them, and Qin Sang took his studies seriously, using a piece of charcoal to jot down what he had learned.

Late at night, when he returned to his room, Qin Sang once again took out the Netherworld Scripture. Comparing the characters he had recently learned, he struggled to grasp the meaning of the text, but he found joy in the challenge.

The next day, Daoist Jixin went down the mountain to perform a ritual and returned by midday, with a sack of coarse grain slung over the back of his donkey. In the afternoon, Ming Yue steamed a pot of cornbread and fried a batch of salted fish, helping Daoist Jixin prepare his travel bag and medicine chest.

On the morning of the ninth, Qin Sang awoke to find that Daoist Jixin was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until he asked Ming Yue that he learned the Daoist had left at the early hour of the Tiger. That day, Qin Sang and Ming Yue followed Daoist Jixin's instructions, and everything went smoothly without any mishaps.

On the morning of the tenth, Qin Sang, who had been applying medicine to his leg every day, found that the pain had lessened, and his fatigue had finally subsided. Early in the morning, he began practicing the moves of Tiger Subduing Long Fist in front of his room.

"Senior Brother, what kind of fist art are you practicing?"

Ming Yue, holding a bowl of congee, sat on a nearby stone, watching Qin Sang’s movements with interest, eager to learn.

"This art is called Tiger Subduing Long Fist. Didn’t Daoist Master teach you any martial arts?"

Qin Sang, having only practiced the energy exertion forms, was already sweating and feeling invigorated. Wiping his sweat, he questioned Ming Yue in return.

"No." Ming Yue shook his head, nibbling on the tip of her chopsticks, his face full of curiosity. "Senior Brother, does Master also know martial arts?"

"How would I know? I’ve only been here a few days."

Qin Sang rolled his eyes, secretly pondering. He had assumed that Daoist Jixin, daring to venture into the mountains to gather herbs without fear of wild animals, might possess martial arts skills. That’s why he had deliberately practiced his fist forms in front of Ming Yue, hoping to provoke a conversation.

If Daoist Jixin did know martial arts, it wouldn’t make sense not to teach his disciple. In the days they had spent together, Qin Sang had sensed that Daoist Jixin cared deeply for Ming Yue, treating him like his own son.

Is he really just an ordinary Daoist?

"Do you usually just study scripture and medicine with the Daoist? Haven’t you learned any spells?"

"Spells?"

Ming Yue looked puzzled. "Most of the time, we study scripture and literacy. I’ve also studied fortune telling and can interpret omens and symbols, but I’m not very skilled at it yet. Master doesn’t trust me to perform them in front of others. I also know the rituals for conducting ceremonies and can assist Master. He’s also taught me to recognize herbs and prescribe treatments, but he says I need to study for another twenty years before I can become proficient. Otherwise, I might harm people."

Qin Sang’s eyes lit up. "Aren’t talismans considered spells? The other day, I heard a couple say that their home was troubled, and the Daoist gave them a talisman, saying it would ward off misfortune and repel evil spirits. Isn’t that a spell?"

Ming Yue chuckled and, after looking around, leaned in and whispered, "Senior Brother, I’ll tell you, but you mustn’t mention it outside. Master once said that these are all just tricks."

Tricks?

But you have gods here!

Qin Sang was indignant. "If they’re ineffective, aren’t you afraid people will come looking for you?"

"These things are so mysterious that who can tell what’s effective and what’s not?"

Ming Yue shook his head, adopting an air of wisdom. "Even if people do come looking for us, there are ways to talk them down. You’ll learn eventually, Senior Brother."

Qin Sang felt deeply disillusioned, and he spent the entire day listless. Ming Yue, still eager to learn Tiger Subduing Long Fist, managed to get Qin Sang to promise to teach him once his leg was fully healed.

Time flew by, and before he knew it, Qin Sang had been at the temple for over twenty days. By now, the three of them had become genuinely familiar with each other.

During this time, Qin Sang diligently practiced his martial arts, studied the scriptures, and learned to read.

Aside from the rituals, Daoist Jixin didn’t shy away from teaching Ming Yue medicine, divination, and the art of drawing talismans in Qin Sang’s presence, confirming that these really were just tricks and deceptions, leaving him thoroughly disillusioned.

However, within these deceptions lay a wealth of worldly wisdom, and Qin Sang found himself learning a great deal.

As his leg gradually healed, he couldn’t remain idle. He first cut bamboo to create a water pipe, channeling water from the stream into the courtyard, where he constructed a small stone pool.

After trying a few designs, he finally succeeded.

With this, Ming Yue no longer had to perform the most strenuous chore. The continuous flow of water from the bamboo pipes caused the vegetables and herbs in the garden to thrive even more. Not only did Ming Yue grow increasingly affectionate toward Qin Sang, but Daoist Jixin’s opinion of him also began to change.

Next, Qin Sang crafted a bamboo ladder, climbed onto the roof, and replaced the broken tiles in their rooms.

Later, finding the temple’s food too bland, he devised a few traps and managed to catch some wild rabbits and pheasants.

Ming Yue advised Qin Sang not to kill animals in the temple, warning that it would desecrate the grounds and incur the master’s wrath. So Qin Sang built a makeshift earthen stove by the stream, outside the temple’s premises, where Daoist Jixin wouldn’t have any control.

This world didn’t have the variety of spices found in his previous life, and Qin Sang wasn’t a skilled cook. The game’s grassy and earthy flavors were hard to remove, so he had to resort to roasting it and sprinkling salt, which made it somewhat palatable.

Ming Yue, while unable to bring himself to kill, had no qualms about eating, and he devoured the food with relish.

Another ten days passed, the leaves withered, and the weather turned cold.

The wind on the mountain was colder than that down below. The three of them—Daoist Jixin, Ming Yue, and Qin Sang—were performing their evening ritual in the Qingyang Hall. The cold wind seeped into the hall, causing the flames of the oil lamp to flicker.

Qin Sang stretched lazily, set down his goose feather pen, and adjusted the lamp wick. Noticing that the other two were still working through their ritual, he whispered, "Daoist, I’m going to head back to my room to sleep now."

With that, he gathered up the papers he had just written, wrapped himself in his robe, and left the hall. His leg had healed, and he was planning a trip to the City of Three Witches.

Books change destiny.

In the past month, Qin Sang had worked even harder than he did in his previous life’s senior year of high school.

Today, he finally managed to recognize and understand all the characters in the Netherworld Scripture. Daoist Jixin, with his extensive knowledge, proved to be even more learned than Qin Sang had imagined, and he was willing to teach with patience. Qin Sang was deeply grateful.

Returning to his quarters, Qin Sang first practiced the Tiger Subduing Long Fist to calm his restless mind.

Following Bai Jianglan’s instructions, Qin Sang practiced the Tiger Subduing Long Fist every morning and evening without fail. He felt his physical strength improving, but he had yet to see any trace of the legendary true qi.

After finishing his practice, he washed off the sweat and returned to his room. He retrieved a stack of yellow paper from under the bed, filled with his translations, and under the moonlight, he completed the final sentence of his translation by referring to the original text.

He had finally finished translating the entire Netherworld Scripture.

Holding the stack of yellow paper, Qin Sang’s hands trembled with excitement. He took a deep breath to calm himself and began to read through his translation from the beginning.

Over and over again, he read with single-minded focus, immersing himself in the Netherworld Scripture. He read his translated version first, then the original, making small adjustments and refining his translation bit by bit.

Qin Sang did not dare to practice recklessly, unsure if even a slight mistake might lead to disastrous results.

From his current understanding, the Netherworld Scripture was indeed a guide to cultivation. It described a method of refining one’s inner energy into a flow of qi within the meridians, along with descriptions of processes like the cosmic orbit[1].

Fortunately, his studies with Daoist Jixin had given him some understanding of meridians and acupoints, allowing him to make sense of the scripture to some extent.

1. Cosmic orbit is a Daoist qigong energy cultivation technique. ☜

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