Chapter Eight: I Am a Novelist

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Thoughts spanning thousands of years, reflecting on myriad things, reaching into the future—clarity emerges. In this era, Daoism is still simply Daoism, merely a group of practitioners striving through rigorous cultivation to attain the realm of the Patriarch Laozi.

As for later Taoist religion, it became somewhat peculiar, with numerous sects emerging, yet its origin remains rooted in the present Daoism—seeking rapid advancement in rank, swift improvement in cultivation, and the ability to accomplish certain feats quickly.

Zhou Qing felt that becoming a novelist might be a fine choice!

Among the myriad schools of thought, novelists at this time fared poorly. Although counted among the many schools, their primary role was to collect folk legends and comments to examine the customs and sentiments of the people.

Some even said: novelists come from the rank of minor officials, creators of street talk and hearsay, with low status, their tales fanciful and unrealistic, unworthy among the schools of thought.

It was only nearly a thousand years later that their status truly began to improve!

Therefore, whether choosing Daoism, Confucianism, Mohism, or agricultural teachings, the maximum rank attainable is roughly the same, yet compared to the whole realm of Zhuxia, it is insignificant.

If, by increasing rank, one could quickly advance cultivation, then in the chaotic Warring States era, on the brink of great turmoil, this would surely add a measure of strength.

Daoism’s Celestial Sect remains aloof from worldly affairs, yet the Way of Yin and Yang, the harmony of hardness and softness, cannot be transcended without experiencing the ceaseless mortal world. The Patriarch Laozi traveled throughout Zhuxia, embracing all things, then left behind the true classic, the Tao Te Ching.

The ancient sage Liezi was talented and serene, lofty yet contemplative, vast as if riding the void and wind, drifting as if standing apart from the world, mastering the wind between heaven and earth. Studying under Guanyinzi, Huqiouzi, Laoshangshi, Zhibogaozi, and others, he surveyed all schools and perfected his own Way.

The sage Zhuangzi, at first merely an official in the lacquer garden of the State of Song, inherited the nobility of the lords above and the rise and fall of the common folk below. As a Daoist sage of the Celestial Sect, he proposed the principle of “Inner Sage and Outer King.” Yet today, this principle has been appropriated by Confucianism.

To obtain rank from the people of Zhuxia, one must let them know one’s name. To be known requires a medium; meeting each person individually would keep Zhou Qing busy for life.

Thus, this medium must be interesting, popular, easy to understand, suitable for all ages, close to their lives, satisfying their spiritual needs... none of the Daoist, Confucian, Mohist, or agricultural teachings fit the bill!

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Only the novelist can!

Present-day novelists deal in trivial talk, useless chatter of streets and alleys—how could it compare to the mature novel systems of later generations? The people of Zhuxia do not need ornate prose or profound doctrines; they need a satisfying spiritual form.

After much reflection, Zhou Qing believed this path could lead forward. Without hesitation, he sat by the window, gazing at the blank bamboo slip laid out before him on a dark red long table. About a foot long, it was the smallest variety of bamboo slips, but Zhou Qing’s body was still small.

Holding a slender brush, he remained in his quiet little room, his bright eyes fixed unblinking on the empty bamboo slip for a long while, almost lifeless.

At last, after an unknown span of time, Zhou Qing straightened his back, the internal energy flowing through him invigorating his spirit. Then, dipping the brush in ink, he began to write on the far right side of the bamboo slip.

This was to be Zhou Qing’s first novel, entitled: The Creation of Heaven and Earth.

“Before the division of the Two Eras, the boundless chaos was vast and obscure, without form. Heaven, earth, sun, and moon were yet to exist, resembling an egg. The primordial chaos was dark and yellow, already containing the source of the Great Way, the essence of heaven and earth, known by itself as the Primordial Heavenly King, wandering within.”

“For eighteen thousand years, by the decree of the Primordial Heavenly King, the True Man Pangu emerged, splitting heaven and earth. The pure yang became heaven, the turbid yin became earth. Pangu transformed nine times each day, godlike in heaven, sage-like on earth. Heaven grew taller by one zhang daily, earth thicker by one zhang daily, and Pangu himself grew one zhang daily, continuing thus for eighteen thousand years.”

“The number of heaven is extremely high, the number of earth extremely deep, Pangu extremely tall, then came the Three Sovereigns. Numbers rise from one, stand at three, complete at five, flourish at seven, reside at nine; thus heaven is ninety thousand li from earth!”

“Pangu’s head and body, dying, transformed; the weather was obscure and vast, sprouts began to grow, heaven and earth were divided, the cosmos established, yin and yang awakened, primordial qi distributed, nurturing harmony—that is spirit.”

“Qi formed wind and clouds, sound became thunder, the left eye the sun, the right eye the moon, limbs and body the four cardinal points and five sacred mountains, blood the rivers, sinews the underground, flesh the soil, hair the stars, skin the plants, teeth and bones the metals and stones, essence the pearls and jade, sweat the rain and dew, the myriad insects of the body, stirred by the wind, transformed into the myriad creatures!”

Over three hundred characters flowed freely. It took Zhou Qing half an hour to write, the brushwork somewhat difficult, especially with Qin seal script, making it even more so. The three hundred characters exactly filled the twenty bamboo slips laid on the table.

Though the handwriting was ordinary, the energy flowing through lent a unique charm. It was classical language, but given to the right person, it would surely become splendid vernacular.

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He gently set down the brush, then brushed his hands over the bamboo slips. A light breeze swept through, quickly drying the ink. Reading carefully, he felt a certain resonance.

This brief novel, though concise and imbued with spirit, perfectly matched the source of Daoism, which cultivates the Immortal Way, though no one has yet become immortal.

He decided to test the waters with this novel. If successful, he would continue with stories following the Creation of Heaven and Earth. The ancient Taoist religion held many fascinating tales, and with added illusions, all could be incorporated.

If anyone claimed the story was untrue, what proof did they have?

Zhou Qing seemed already prepared with a reply: I am a novelist; this story is pure fiction. If it resembles reality, it is an honor!

Thinking this, he smiled softly.

Having finished writing, it was time to have Zong Quan handle matters. After all, he was a junior uncle to him. Though the Celestial Sect did not emphasize rules, the Confucian system had some usefulness.

******

In the afternoon, Zhou Qing personally ascended to the small bamboo hut where Zong Quan resided. Without preamble, he handed over the bamboo slips for Zong Quan to peruse and share his thoughts.

Zong Quan took the slips with both hands, gently opened them, and immediately saw the title “The Creation of Heaven and Earth.” His brow lifted, and with a slightly surprised expression, he glanced at his junior uncle.

He murmured softly as he rapidly absorbed the contents into his mind, feeling both astonished and doubtful, as if he had never seen this bamboo slip within the sect before.

Yet it seemed quite profound. According to the imaginations of Daoists, it might explain the origin of this realm. Perhaps this story was a reflection of Zhou Qing’s own inner thoughts.