Chapter 7: The Abandoned Temple

As they conversed, they traveled far from the riverside. Zhang Jingqing conjured a white horse once more, and the master and disciple rode off together.

A light drizzle fell, and as the sky darkened, the two remained on the road.

"Traveling the world is truly a test of one's character," Zhang Zhiwei thought to himself.

He glanced at Zhang Jingqing, who was riding ahead. The rain had dampened his master's hair, and water droplets clung to his bristling, sword-like eyebrows and thick, tangled beard. At a casual glance, he looked nothing like the majestic Taoist Celestial Master of everyday life; instead, he resembled a bedraggled, wild hermit.

A feeling stirred deep within Zhang Zhiwei’s heart. *My master treats me well.*

But soon, a sudden incident arose ahead.

On the side of the road not far off, a corpse lay sprawled. Without waiting for Zhang Jingqing to prompt him, Zhang Zhiwei reined in the horse and dismounted to investigate. A mutilated body came into view. Half of the torso was shattered, exposing ghastly white bones; the internal organs had been hollowed out, and the head had been half-devoured. Beside the body lay a bundle of firewood.

"By the looks of it, this was an attack by a wild beast," Zhang Zhiwei remarked. He reached out and touched one of the exposed bones. He noticed numerous small scratches on the surface, as if someone had scrubbed the bone with a sharp steel brush.

*A steel brush... something on a wild beast resembling a steel brush... nothing comes to mind except for the barbs on a tongue. A tongue covered in barbs...*

*Is it a bear or a tiger?*

*Most likely a tiger, and one with some spiritual cultivation at that. A common beast’s tongue wouldn't be this formidable. I suppose this woodcutter was simply unlucky to have run into it.*

Based on the gruesome state of the remains, Zhang Zhiwei quickly reconstructed the scene. While the woodcutter was carrying his load down the mountain, he had been ambushed from behind by a tiger. A single bite had severed half his head, killing him instantly. Afterward, the tiger had consumed his brains, internal organs, and the fattier parts of his body, leaving behind only the skin-wrapped bones. The scratches on the bone were the marks left by the tiger’s barbed tongue as it licked the flesh away.

"To leave such deep gouges on the bone with a single lick—this creature must have begun to refine its Qi. It’s on the verge of becoming a demon!" Zhang Zhiwei turned to report his findings to his master.

Zhang Jingqing listened and said, "Everything has Qi, but unlike humans, very few animals ever perceive it. However, once they do, their simple minds allow them to advance rapidly. If it has started eating people, we must resolve this quickly, lest it bring disaster to the region."

"But this is a desolate wilderness," Zhang Zhiwei replied. "The rain has washed away its scent. Where are we to find it?"

"You only regret not knowing enough when the time comes to use it; you never realize the difficulty of a task until you have experienced it yourself!" Zhang Jingqing scolded. "I tell you to study the art of talismans, but you don't listen. All you know is the *Chonglong* Jade Talisman. Once it rains or you enter the water, you're completely blind!"

Zhang Zhiwei remained silent. The Tianshi Mansion of Mount Longhu, the Shangqing Sect of Mount Mao, and the Lingbao Sect of Mount Gezao were known as the three great talisman sects, the most proficient in the Taoist tradition at crafting talismans. As the direct heir of the Celestial Master, his lack of skill in this area was indeed embarrassing.

However, in Zhang Zhiwei’s view, the most important aspect of cultivation was the refinement of one’s nature and life force. Such auxiliary arts could be set aside or briefly understood. Thus, he only knew rudimentary methods, such as the basic *Chonglong* Jade Talisman for tracking.

The *Chonglong* Jade Talisman was derived from the *Twenty-Four True Talismans of the Three Departments and Eight Views of Taiwei*. The "Views" corresponded to the deities residing in different parts of the body. The *Chonglong* Jade corresponded to the nose; the purpose of this talisman was to deify the sense of smell, granting an unparalleled ability to track. In short, it was an enhanced dog’s nose.

Now that it was raining, Zhang Zhiwei’s "dog nose" was naturally ineffective, which was why Zhang Jingqing said he was "blind."

"Master possesses great wisdom. I shall study the way of talismans upon our return," Zhang Zhiwei promised.

This was not empty lip service; he truly intended to learn. After all, his lightning cultivation had hit a bottleneck, and drawing talismans was an excellent way to temper the mind. Learning it would be beneficial.

"As long as you know that, clean up the body, and let us find a place to stay," Zhang Jingqing directed.

Zhang Zhiwei immediately tidied up the remains, using the victim's tattered clothes to wrap the body. He found a relatively flat spot by the roadside, dug a pit, and buried the bones. With the burial complete, he vaulted back onto the horse and followed Zhang Jingqing as they set off again.

In truth, for the two of them, spending the night in the wilderness was of no consequence. But the purpose of this journey was to experience the world. If they relied on their cultivation to settle wherever they pleased, how would that differ from their bitter practice back on the mountain?

Fortunately, they had not traveled long before they found a place to rest. Ahead, by the side of the main road in the open wilderness, stood a small stone shrine. The shrine was humble and ordinary, built from stacked blue stones. It had stood there for who knew how many years, its surface turned dull and grey. At that moment, a flickering firelight emanated from within, suggesting someone was inside.

"Though it is crude, it serves as a place to shield us from the wind and rain."

As they approached, Zhang Jingqing formed a hand seal. The white horse instantly deflated, transforming into two palm-sized paper talismans that burst into flames.

The two pushed open the wooden door and entered the shrine. Inside, several villagers who had been cutting wood on the mountain were taking shelter from the intensifying rain and the encroaching darkness. They had built a fire and were drinking hot soup made with rainwater.

Seeing Zhang Zhiwei and Zhang Jingqing enter, the men tightened their grip on their wood-chopping blades, their faces guarded. The times were hard and banditry was rampant; they could not afford to be careless.

"The rain is heavy outside; forgive our intrusion," Zhang Jingqing said politely. Sensing the villagers' tension, he led Zhang Zhiwei to a corner to meditate.

By the fire, the villagers whispered among themselves.

"Aren't they cold? Those Taoists are dressed so thinly."

"Those two are tall and sturdy; I reckon they have real martial skill and don't fear the cold."

"Real martial skill? Like those in the Righteous and Harmonious Fists?"

"Hush, hush! Careful with your words!"

Seeing the two Taoists were so polite, an older man among them quickly spoke to the young man behind him.

"Er'gou, don't just stand there. Pour two bowls of hot soup for the Taoists to warm them up."

"Oh, yes, right away!"

The young man named Er'gou scooped two bowls from the battered pot, but before he could deliver them, the old man rose and took the bowls himself, walking over to them.

"Two Taoists, please have some hot soup to warm yourselves! It's a rainy day, and you are dressed quite lightly—take care not to catch a chill. We are just villagers from nearby; winter is approaching, and we cannot afford coal for heat, so we have to climb the mountain to gather firewood just to scrape by."

The old man wore a fawning smile, using the offering of soup to explain their situation. The implication was clear: *We are but poor villagers who cannot even afford coal; there is no profit to be squeezed out of us, so don't bother.*