Temple of the Five Viscera

Chen Huangpi was deeply disappointed.

He had known for a long time that he could not cultivate. Today, it seemed he had grown a year older. His master’s madness had somewhat abated, and now he wished to teach him the way of immortality. Yet, things did not go as hoped. In the end, it was all for nothing.

“Grandmaster, I’m going in,” Chen Huangpi said, his tone low and dispirited, as he jumped into the alchemical furnace.

“Huangpi, do you feel anything?”

“Yes, I do.”

“It’s stifling and hot, but my skin is thick—I can withstand it.”

“What?” The old Taoist in the purple robe was baffled, scratching his head. “You haven’t felt any changes in your body?”

That shouldn’t be... Was the fire not strong enough?

“Huangpi, wait here. I’ll make the fire even stronger for you.”

As he spoke, the old Taoist formed a seal with one hand. “Fire, come!”

From the void, a cluster of blue flames appeared out of nowhere and plunged into the furnace.

If there were cultivators present, they would surely cry out in astonishment. After all, when cultivators reach the Golden Core stage, they must ignite true fire to forge their core. The hotter the true fire, the more distinct its color; fire comes in seven hues, and blue true fire is fierce enough to burn a hole through space itself.

Inside and outside the furnace, blue flames exploded, surging like boiling magma.

“Huangpi, how do you feel now?”

“Grandmaster, I feel like I’m about to be cooked!”

Within the furnace, Chen Huangpi was flushed all over, black smoke constantly billowing from his body. Yet, strangely, his skin showed no sign of being scorched; it was simply very red, nothing more. Aside from that, his head was dizzy—it was too stuffy.

Chen Huangpi had never refined pills, but he had plenty of experience being refined. He knew that the dizziness was due to the lack of fresh air in the furnace; he could not stay any longer, or he would not be able to go out patrolling today.

“Grandmaster, I want to come out.”

“No, hold on a bit longer. You’ll surely sense the path I’m teaching you.”

“All right.”

Unwilling to disappoint his master, Chen Huangpi calculated the time, planning to endure a little longer in the furnace. But gradually, the black smoke pouring from his body increased, and his head grew ever more dizzy.

He even saw twisted characters, resembling flowers, birds, fish, and insects, emerge on his arms.

“This is it, I’m hallucinating from the heat.”

He looked at the characters, and his mind felt as though it exploded. A familiar yet strange chanting arose, as if his master were calling to him.

“First, refine the temple of the five organs, then invite the gods!”

“The five organs are the essence of life: heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys—together called the five temples.”

“The kidney is the foundation, the innate root, belonging to water. Water nourishes all things, so in the method of refining the gods in the five organs, the kidney comes first. The energy of the kidney is endlessly renewing, forging the temple day and night, allowing the cycle of the five elements, and thus refining the gods to ascend to immortality.”

Chen Huangpi listened in a haze, but each word he understood fully. His body, almost involuntarily, began to follow the method—a faint, elusive energy gradually brewed between his kidneys at the small of his back.

...

The Ten-Thousand Mountains bordered Xuzhou.

It was midday. The sun hung high in the sky, its scorching rays baking the earth in a haze.

Looking out, the vast city of Xuzhou had no visible boundary. The city bustled with crowds, a lively scene.

If a cultivator were here and dared open the Yin Eyes, they would see wisps of grayish aura rising from every mortal’s body.

That gray aura was human qi.

Above Xuzhou, a layer of gray shadow hung.

Within the shadow, thousands of indistinct silhouettes could be seen.

Some had a thousand arms, resembling gods or demons. Some appeared as scholars, almost like ordinary mortals. Every moment, gray wisps of qi were inhaled through their mouths and noses.

“Their appetites are growing,” Xuzhou’s governor, Song Tiangang, withdrew his probing gaze and said meaningfully, “How much of the taxes set for Xuzhou by the court this year have we collected?”

A servant beside him replied, “Sir, we have collected sixty percent.”

“Only sixty percent...” Song Tiangang shook his head, displeased. “With only three months left until the end of the year, how will we gather the remaining forty percent?”

“These taxes rise year after year.”

“I think this court is doomed.”

“Sir, why do you say that?” the servant asked, puzzled.

Song Tiangang replied with interest, “The court has two mouths to feed, inside and out, and must also satisfy those beings above. Yet in the past decade, strange activities have grown more frequent, while taxes rise ever higher—like oil poured on fire, ready to ignite at a touch.”

“Sir, do you intend...?”

Song Tiangang laughed heartily. “Intention or not, what does it matter? The court is transient, but the noble families endure. My Song family has held high office for generations—no matter who rules, who could deny us our share?”

“Sir, wise words.”

Song Tiangang, losing interest, waved his hand to dismiss the topic and asked, “Speaking of taxes, has there been any word from Lin Ye and his group today?”

“I was just about to report, sir. There has been no news since dusk yesterday.”

“No news?” Song Tiangang’s brow furrowed.

He had sent Lin Ye and others to the Ten-Thousand Mountains to search for the source of pollution, intending to stir up trouble at Xuzhou’s border and thus gain an excuse to raise taxes. He had given them a geomantic compass and arranged for a deity statue to protect them, which could also transmit information.

At night, the mountains would block all communication. But now it was daytime—could something have happened?

With this thought, Song Tiangang’s figure flickered and vanished from sight.

He reappeared outside a temple ten meters tall, then entered reverently.

Within the temple were giant incense sticks like pillars, candles that needed two or three people to embrace. A massive deity statue, dressed in crimson official robes and wearing a black cap, stood in the main hall.

The temple keeper saw him and was about to bow.

“Leave!” Song Tiangang said coldly, in no mood for conversation.

The keeper dared not linger and hurried out.

Once the keeper had left, the statue’s eyes suddenly opened, its voice buzzing, “Tiangang, I know why you have come. Those you sent are dead.”

“Seventh Granduncle! Do you have a vision of what happened?”

This statue was Song Tiangang’s granduncle. After arriving in Xuzhou, Song Tiangang had built this temple and invited him from the capital.

The statue did not speak, but its eyes emitted two rays of light.

Those rays entered Song Tiangang’s eyes.

He saw the scenes he wished to see.

From Lin Lao and his companions leaving Xuzhou and entering the Ten-Thousand Mountains, to their use of the geomantic compass to find a vast mountain with a cavern leading underground, they ventured down and saw things that even Song Tiangang found inconceivable.

Within the underground cavern, countless giant, broken deity statues stood crowded together. One statue, its head covered in tumors, a huge mouth on its chest, and vertical eyes on its palms, was gnawing at the other statues.

A mutated deity statue.

Suddenly, it turned and noticed Lin Lao and his group. In a single breath, it appeared before them.

Lin Lao summoned a deity statue, but it was swallowed whole by the mutant.

“What is that place?” Song Tiangang was bewildered.

“There’s more,” Granduncle’s statue said, then sent another ray of light.

Song Tiangang saw night fall, then the mutated statue spat out the swallowed statue, smashed it with a punch, and chewed it up.

“A demon that feeds on gods!”

“Why does this mutated statue look so familiar...?”

Song Tiangang’s brow furrowed, frantically searching his memory.

He sensed that sending Lin Lao and the others to the Ten-Thousand Mountains had encountered something extraordinary.

In the next moment, a scene flashed in his mind.

It was the spring of the fourth year of the Qingli era, when he traveled to the capital for an official report. Within the palace, there was a statue resembling this one.

No... it was exactly the same.

It was said that the emperor had paid a tremendous price to acquire it, and it concealed the secret of immortality.

And since that year, taxes had increased annually.

Heaven and earth had changed. Spiritual energy vanished, and cultivators could only rely on human qi to cultivate. The gods were the same.

Yet this path of cultivation could only reach the Nascent Soul stage, with a lifespan of eight hundred years. To go further, one had to forge a deity statue, spend a lifetime seated in a temple, appearing lofty but in reality sitting on pins and needles.

If one could become immortal, who would settle for being a god?

As for the palace statue, not even Song Tiangang or his family dared covet it—for the emperor would truly take their lives.

But this one...

Song Tiangang suddenly laughed quietly. “My path is complete.”

...

Chen Huangpi was patrolling the mountain.

His Dao robe, once a perfect fit, was now a size too small.

“I’ll have Second Master alter it for me,” he thought, feeling he had grown older and needed to pay more attention to his appearance.

Just then, the yellow-brass oil lamp hanging at his waist suddenly opened its mouth.

“Chen Huangpi, aren’t you going to run?”

“You’ve grown another year older—surely the Master will eat you now.”

“Huang Er, you’re sowing discord between me and Master again.”

Chen Huangpi was unhappy.

Huang Er was his good friend, but Master was his true master.

Both were dear to him, and he could not choose between them.

The yellow-brass oil lamp said, “Everything I say is true. We’re family—I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Master won’t eat me,” Chen Huangpi replied. “He’s even teaching me cultivation methods.”

“Then have you succeeded?”

“Of course I have!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Try me!”

As he spoke, Chen Huangpi punched the oil lamp.

“Pfft…”

The oil lamp sprayed a mouthful of oil.

“Chen Huangpi, what is this cultivation? How has your strength increased so much? Have you already built your foundation—no, formed your core?”

“I don’t know,” Chen Huangpi shook his head. The Five-Organ Refining God Method had no division of stages. One simply had to refine the five organs into temples, then invite five gods to reside within.

Once that was done, the method was complete.

He had only just begun and had not even forged the Kidney Temple, so it could not be considered foundation building.

Still, his strength had grown considerably.

And perhaps, due to some step he had not mastered, as his kidney energy forged the temple, he felt an itch below—maybe he was about to grow a spiritual root!

The yellow-brass oil lamp stared at Chen Huangpi in awe. “So strong without a foundation—when you build your foundation, you’ll be able to kill me with a single punch!”

“I won’t, Huang Er. You’re my good friend—I’d never kill you.”

The oil lamp relaxed.

“Chen Huangpi, family never deceives family. Your word is good.”

“Of course! I’d never lie to you!”

Chen Huangpi truly did not understand the oil lamp’s motives. Since he could remember, it had always been in Pure Immortal Temple, and every yellow-brass oil lamp was its avatar. Logically, it should have a good relationship with Master, yet it was always fearful of him, constantly thinking of escape—though when it came to running away, it never dared do so itself, only egged Chen Huangpi on.

Unbeknownst to Chen Huangpi, at that moment the oil lamp was muttering internally: “The Master holds too high a place in Chen Huangpi’s heart. If I want him to take me away, I’ll have to scheme carefully. But now that he can cultivate, perhaps…”

So it thought.

But outwardly, it said, “Chen Huangpi, you’re so good to me. As family, I should help you. Here—take that little booklet from your robe, and I’ll teach you something useful.”