Night at the Daoist Temple – Meeting the Immortal Master
By the time the party reached the Daoist temple, night had already fallen. All around, cloud-wreathed peaks and seas of mist merged with the dim light, pine waves whispered in the wind, and the soft toll of bells and chimes drifted through the darkness. The temple seemed to hide itself in drifting clouds, carrying the air of an immortal abode untouched by the dust of the world. From afar, the red walls and green-tiled roofs rose in graceful tiers, eaves and corners curving skyward; under the silvery glow of the moon, the whole scene was serene and profound, like a realm of the immortals.
Stepping through the temple gates, they saw two bronze ever-burning lamps on either side, their faint light flickering like distant stars. Suddenly, a young Daoist's clear voice rang out:
"Master, pilgrims have arrived!"
The call echoed through the night, stirring the quiet within.
Before long, an elderly Daoist emerged from the main hall, clad in a star-patterned robe, a horsetail whisk in hand. His steps were steady, his expression calm, his bearing lofty and serene, with the refined air of one who had cultivated the Way for many years. Smiling faintly, he spoke in a warm, resonant voice:
"Such rare visitors—this is truly an honor for our temple. White-Brow Daoist, Master Zhenkong, and you two young gentlemen, please, enter and be seated. I have prepared a pot of clear-heart tea; do come and taste it."
Wu Tong, recognizing the immortal grace in the man's bearing, knew at once this was the famed Immortal Master Taiyi. Stepping forward with a respectful bow, he said:
"This junior's sudden visit may disturb your cultivation. I beg your pardon. If I may, I would like to offer a token of respect."
With that, he drew from his robe a banknote for one hundred taels of silver and presented it with both hands. A flicker of surprise crossed Taiyi's eyes before he smiled gently:
"Your sincerity is commendable, young sir, but temple offerings are given according to one's own heart—there is no need for such expense."
Wu Tong replied with quiet firmness:
"You cultivate in purity, spread the teachings of the Dao, and sow the seeds of virtue. Such service to the world deserves honor."
Seeing his sincerity, Taiyi did not press further. Instead, he lifted his whisk and called:
"Rizhao, receive this young gentleman's offering."
The young Daoist, Rizhao, came forward quickly, accepted the banknote with both hands, and bowed.
"Many thanks for your kindness, young sir."
Taiyi then instructed:
"Rizhao, Yueming—prepare two upper rooms for our four guests to rest."
The two young Daoists answered in unison and departed to make arrangements.
White-Brow Daoist and Master Zhenkong exchanged a glance. In all their years wandering the martial world, they had met countless nobles and rich men, yet rarely one so open-handed without the slightest trace of ostentation. This youth, generous yet measured, was clearly no common traveler. Though they had long known Wu Tong's martial skill was remarkable, now they felt his identity was even more mysterious.
The group followed Taiyi into a side hall beside the main chamber, where a zisha teapot sat ready, steam curling from its spout. The fragrance of Daoist health tea filled the air. Taiyi himself poured, his movements unhurried.
"This is tea I brew myself," he said. "It calms the spirit and nourishes the breath. Please, taste it."
Wu Tong accepted the cup with both hands, taking a slow sip. The tea's fragrance lingered on his tongue, its sweetness returning after the swallow, refreshing him from within.
"Master's tea craft is profound indeed—this tea is truly extraordinary."
Taiyi's gaze lingered on Wu Tong, noting his steady breath, restrained energy, and the quiet power in his posture. His eyes, clear as the night sky, held a starry light—signs of deep cultivation.
"A dragon among men," Taiyi said. "Yet you were born to wealth—what led you to such arduous martial study? May I know your origins, and your destination?"
Wu Tong smiled modestly.
"I am but a wanderer of the rivers and lakes, from Guangzhou in Lingnan. I journey north to visit my elder brother in Hebei, traveling in company with Zhao Gongzi here. By chance, we encountered White-Brow Daoist and Master Zhenkong, and now have the honor to meet you, Master—it must be fate indeed."
Taiyi nodded slowly.
"Lingnan is a land of fine people, and Guangzhou is prosperous indeed. Your inner energy bears traces of Daoist methods—have you studied under one of our lineage?"
Wu Tong answered humbly:
"I learned under my teacher, Baiyun Immortal, for twelve years, and also received instruction from the wandering hero Lü Qiang, known as 'Fears No Heaven.'"
Recognition lit Taiyi's face.
"Ah… Baiyun Immortal, a towering figure in the martial world, and Lü Qiang, a knight renowned for his chivalry—both names resound across the land. No wonder your bearing is so exceptional."
They drank together, but Master Zhenkong, ever blunt, chuckled:
"Such fine tea! White-Brow and I have been here many times and never tasted the like. Old Daoist, are you playing favorites?"
Zhao Rou interjected with a smile:
"Far-traveled guests deserve special courtesy—those who come often cannot expect such rare tea each time."
White-Brow Daoist laughed.
"Indeed. We've eaten and drunk here for free often enough, without thinking how hard it is to keep this temple."
Taiyi sighed.
"With An Lushan's rebellion raging these past six months, the land is in chaos. Temples and monasteries everywhere are struggling to survive."
At this, all fell silent. Then White-Brow Daoist spoke:
"Word has it that the Heavenly Venerate Sect is calling a grand martial gathering to aid the imperial court against the rebels—set for the twentieth day of the fourth month at the Pavilion of Prince Teng."
Wu Tong's heart stirred.
"A righteous cause—Zhao Gongzi and I shall join without hesitation!"
White-Brow and Zhenkong were impressed.
"Well spoken! We too will go," Zhenkong declared.
They talked long into the night over tea, then shared a simple meal before retiring to their rooms.
The Next Morning
Wu Tong and Zhao Rou bid farewell to the three elders. Before leaving, Wu Tong once more reached into his robe, producing another two banknotes.
"Forgive our intrusion. I wish to donate a little more to your temple's incense fund."
Taiyi was pleased, though he again had Yueming accept the silver rather than take it himself.
"Prepare some wound salves and antidote pills for these young gentlemen," he instructed. "Wu Gongzi's fate is blessed—he will turn danger to safety, and one day his name will be known across the martial world."
Soon, two Daoists returned with carefully wrapped medicines.
"These may serve you well in times of need," Taiyi said.
Wu Tong bowed deeply.
"Your kindness is beyond thanks. We have pressing matters ahead, but shall return to pay our respects another day."
White-Brow Daoist asked:
"And where are you bound now?"
"On the fourteenth day of the fourth month, the Heavenly Venerate Sect will hold the consecration of the 'Hall of Soaring Clouds' at Mount Jiuhua. We have been invited by the Sect Leader's daughter, Liu Yun, to attend."
Zhenkong gave a mock gasp.
"Ah! Then perhaps the fair Liu Yun has taken a liking to you, Wu Gongzi?"
Wu Tong shook his head with a faint smile.
"No, Master. Her affections are not for me—but for Zhao Gongzi at my side."