Chapter One: Passing the Pavilion of Scriptures, Breaking Through the Realm by Contemplating the Sutras

Mount Floating Cloud.

The mountain rises high, dense with forest, its grandeur vast and imposing. A sea of clouds swirls like mist, while the rosy glow of dawn floats and sinks like water. The morning bell sounds, awakening beasts and birds alike, rousing all the disciples.

Chopping wood, carrying water, sweeping the grounds, reciting scriptures... each elder and junior Daoist has their duties, all immersed in busyness.

On the first floor of the Scripture Pavilion at the Seeking Truth Temple, an elderly Daoist with white hair is engrossed in ancient texts. He copies, reads, and contemplates as if no one else exists.

Young Daoists entering the pavilion, regardless of their private thoughts, show him proper respect—some bow deeply from afar, others salute with folded hands. Some with perfunctory gestures, others with genuine reverence. This is because the old Daoist is a remarkable figure within the temple.

He is the youngest son of the previous chief abbot, born with a congenital defect, having been mentally impaired for decades. Five years ago, the former abbot passed away, and the old Daoist was profoundly shaken—astonishingly, he regained clarity.

It was thought that his misfortunes had finally turned to fortune and that, despite his advanced age, aging bones, and weakened vitality, he would benefit from the blessings left by his predecessor, ascend the first realm, balance yin and yang, ward off disease, and extend his life without difficulty.

Yet, to everyone's surprise, he was unable to enter the Dao for a long time.

Ordinary people might have given up and drifted through their days, but his resolve to seek the Dao was unwavering.

Not only did he swiftly dispel the darkness from his heart, but he also took up permanent residence in the Scripture Pavilion, eating, drinking, and living there.

For five years, day after day, he poured over scriptures, studied the Daoist canon, uniting knowledge and practice, rain or shine.

Even in winter, his fingers trembled from the cold as he turned pages and wrote diligently.

The temple disciples had mixed opinions of him.

Some believed he was deluded, unable to face reality, and should enjoy his remaining years quietly without reckless striving.

Others saw his Daoist heart as iron-strong, a sincere seeker; though a common mortal, his spirit transcended the mundane.

No matter what others thought, Xuanming paid it no mind. Having lived through two lifetimes and polished himself for years, he faced outside judgment with serene detachment.

Worldly affairs are but fleeting clouds—why bother? Better to recline and study the scriptures.

Time flowed gently like water.

As the sun set in the west, another day passed.

All the disciples dispersed, yet the white-haired elder remained hunched over the desk, absorbed in his texts, utterly focused, with nothing on his mind but the Dao.

———

At dawn, when the guardian Daoist opened the pavilion door and found the elder still reading, the lamp oil spent, clearly having stayed up late again, he sighed and approached with worry and helplessness.

"Uncle Master, you didn’t listen again. You secretly stayed up late reading after I left."

"You are already past sixty; you must take care of your health. There’s no rush to read all the Daoist scriptures at once."

"Only with good health can you live long."

Feeling a shift in the subtle energy within his consciousness, Xuanming closed the book, steadied himself on the desk, rose slowly, waved off the offered support, and strolled toward the door.

Seeing the stubborn old man finally heed advice for once, no longer obstinate as before, the guardian Daoist was overjoyed.

He hurried forward a few steps to the doorway and mustering courage said, "Uncle Master, how about I have someone prepare a meal for you? After you eat, you can rest, replenish your strength, and then return to your studies?"

Xuanming waved his hand calmly, "No hurry. The time has come."

The time?

What time?

The guardian Daoist was puzzled.

At that moment, Xuanming stepped out of the pavilion.

This was the first time in five years he had left this place.

Now, the sun rose in the east, the bright moon was setting in the west, the sun and moon intertwined, day and night exchanged, yin and yang transformed.

Looking up at the sky, Xuanming felt a blessing flood his heart.

A subtle energy emanated from his consciousness, stirring the air and swirling around him. His white hair billowed, his gray Daoist robe fluttered, and he floated three feet above the ground.

Above the heavens, the sun and moon shone together.

Each descended a mysterious energy.

The morning sun’s purple aura and the moon’s pale light surged into Xuanming’s body, his aura growing increasingly profound, his momentum climbing steadily.

Winds rose and clouds gathered; abundant spiritual energy rushed in like rivers converging into the sea.

One by one, his meridians were opened, his decayed body nourished, his wrinkled skin flushed with color, his stooped spine straightened—Xuanming transformed from the inside out.

His inner magical power surged, an outward spring breeze and gentle rain.

The guardian Daoist stared in astonishment.

Young Daoists preparing to enter the pavilion were shocked.

Sensing this energy, several figures swiftly arrived—none other than the Chief Abbot Xuanyu and several elders of the temple.

Seeing the elder breaking through his realm, they were stunned but immediately ordered the disciples to remain silent and personally formed a protective formation as his guardians.

Xuanming was unaware of their presence.

He was immersed in the creation of heaven and earth, entering the legendary state of sudden enlightenment. Years of scripture study poured forth like a mighty river, merging with the subtle energy in his consciousness.

This transformed his innate constitution, enhancing his comprehension.

He perceived the myriad things of heaven and earth more clearly than ever.

The enlightenment lasted an hour; when the strange phenomena faded, he landed, opened his eyes, and his appearance had changed greatly.

White-haired but youthful-faced, an immortal aura and Daoist grace radiated from him.

Feeling his transformation, the elder laughed heartily.

"Five years of studying scriptures to comprehend the Dao, and today I finally enter the Dao."

Not only did he enter the Dao, but he also surpassed the first realm, stepping into the second, his foundation firm and his Dao energy pure.

Chief Abbot Xuanyu led the elders forward, his square face beaming with joy.

"Congratulations, Senior Brother, on successfully entering the Dao. From now on, the sea is wide for fish to leap, and the sky is high for birds to fly."

"Congratulations on your smooth entry into the Dao. Henceforth, the world is vast and all things renewed."

The disciples present immediately bowed.

"Congratulations, Senior Uncle, on your successful entry into the Dao."

Xuanming smiled kindly, kowtowing in return.

"Thank you all, junior brothers and nephews, for your protection."

Standing outside all the time is no good, Xuanming invited the Chief Abbot and elders into the Scripture Pavilion for a detailed discussion.

———

On the first floor of the Scripture Pavilion, the Daoists sat apart.

Chief Abbot Xuanyu spoke first.

"The sages often arrive late; do not fear silver hair."

"Senior Brother, you have matured late but entered the Dao at the second realm; this is a cause for celebration."

"From now on, Seeking Truth Temple has one more true cultivator."

The elders congratulated him again.

After the pleasantries, they came to the point.

Xuanyangzi of the Blazing Fire Hall, known for his fiery temper and straightforwardness, could not contain his impatience. Rising, he bowed and said:

"Junior brother’s next question may be presumptuous; I beg your forgiveness in advance."

Before he finished, the elderly Xuanming stroked his beard lightly and replied calmly:

"Junior brother wishes to ask about the foundation-building method?"

Xuanyang Daoist’s face reddened further.

He apologized again and straightforwardly admitted:

"Senior brother’s insight is sharp; indeed, I have that question."

"I just witnessed you break through your realm and draw in the yin and yang energies of the sun and moon to forge an exquisite Dao foundation."

"The spectacle was magnificent and inspiring."

"But it seems our temple lacks such a method. May I ask if this is something you comprehended through scripture study or a legacy from your master?"

Hearing this, the other Daoists pricked up their ears, equally curious.

They did not ask rashly, knowing Xuanyang’s temperament—he would speak first—and because he and the Chief Abbot were disciples of the previous abbot and closer to Xuanming.

Sure enough!

Xuanyang once again did not disappoint.

Stroking his beard, Xuanming did not answer immediately but glanced around, taking in everyone’s expressions.

Though he had stayed in the Scripture Pavilion for five years without stepping out, thanks to the guardian Daoist’s constant chatter, he had come to understand the personalities of these senior brothers who held great authority within the temple.

Chief Abbot Xuanyu was upright but not rigid.

Xingyu of the Law Enforcement Hall was the most just.

Xianyin of the Spirit Herb Chamber was sly.

Xuankong of the Fire Residence Hall loved gossip.

Xuantong of the Dragon Spring Hall was smooth and graceful.

Xiansu of the Jade Maiden Pavilion was fierce and protective.

Xuanyang of the Blazing Sun Hall was sincere but reckless.

Now, it seemed Xuanyang was once again being used as the spearhead.

Reflecting silently, Xuanming’s face betrayed no hint of this; he stroked his beard with a smile and spoke leisurely: