Rising and Falling on the Path of Seeking Truth

“Golden-bearded Spring Mud Pill will reduce your life by three years, Six-flavored Black Earth Pill by five years. Counting thus, you have ten years left! Today, I will let you taste the Grand Pill of Heaven and Earth, and take all ten years away.”

Had an ordinary person uttered such words, Qin Chuan would surely have thought him mad—how could one acquire a pill embodying heaven and earth?

“But please, sir, enlighten me!”

Two pills entered his mouth, and the dust energy lingering in his lower dantian was purified countless times over. The experience was mysterious beyond words—he would willingly endure a hundred bouts of dysentery for such sweetness.

“This is the old man’s first attempt at this, whether it succeeds or fails is up to fate.”

With that, he wasted no more time and took the gourd from his belt.

I have a ladle of wine, enough to comfort the weary traveler.

Pouring it out over rivers and lakes, gifting it to all beneath heaven.

No, not to people, but to fish.

As the song ended, the waters downstream of Luo River erupted in splashes, and schools of fish surged through the waves toward them.

“Old man, is there more wine?”

“There’s been no golden-bearded grass these days. Why call us here?”

These fish possessed an uncanny, almost human spirit; though their mouths never moved, they spoke human words—an astonishing sight. The dozen or so dragonfish and brocaded carp, big and small, chattered boisterously, making quite a scene.

Qin Chuan had spent several days here and had noticed that most spiritual creatures between mountain and valley possessed human-like intelligence. He was no longer surprised. But to speak as humans did was rare, unlike the fat mountain bird he had first seen, or the mountain monkeys and spirit apes he’d encountered along the way.

“Enough noise. Today, there’s a great matter requiring your aid!” The old man, seeing the brocaded carp and dragonfish, looked somewhat disappointed.

“We two clans have been acquainted with you for ages. If you keep stalling, we really will leave!”

The old man sighed and explained his purpose. “I wish to ask your tribe’s elder among the winged fish to carry us to Ascension Wilds!”

At these words, twenty mouths fell silent.

“Oh? Another human? That’s the second I’ve seen!” After a while, a dragonfish sized up Qin Chuan from head to tail, making his skin crawl.

“You humans are formidable. Unlike us fish, where every tribe is much the same.”

Qin Chuan wore a blue robe, the old man a gray one; to the fish, they were as different as night and day.

“Wait here. We’ll return soon. Surely the elder will agree to help.” With that, the twenty fish darted off.

Less than half a cup of tea’s time later, two winged dragonfish and brocaded carp flapped toward them from the horizon.

Their wings were not ordinary feathers, but golden-scaled, shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight. They landed nearby, apologizing for their tardiness.

The two men and two fish exchanged greetings, then wasted no time, mounting the fish and plunging into Ascension Wilds, swimming and flying toward the Summit of Forgetting.

Everything in this world was strange—within the waters of Ascension Wilds, it was no different from land. The medium was not water but a stream of spiritual energy, overflowing and dense.

Looking down, the world below shrank into a pool, as if peering into a mirror-realm.

Within Ascension Wilds, it seemed the ultimate truths of heaven and earth resided eternally, shrinking distances to mere inches—enchanting to behold.

Activating the Mystic Breath Dust Technique, Qin Chuan closed his eyes, sat cross-legged, and quietly pondered the wonders etched in his heart, forgetting time, floating as if isolated from the world, transformed and ascending to immortality.

The old man sat upon the back of the winged brocaded carp, gazing at Qin Chuan, who was meditating intently, feeling gratified, as if his life’s hopes were fulfilled. Knowing Qin Chuan was at a crucial moment, he dared not disturb him.

The world was tranquil and remote, with only sparse wind sounds trailing behind.

Passing through drifting mist and embroidered golden clouds, they glimpsed the supreme, forgotten pinnacle of heaven and earth’s pillar—Floating Island.

Around Floating Island bloomed clusters of embroidered golden lotuses, scattered across ten miles, their golden stalks thrusting into the shimmering cloud sea.

What appeared atop the embroidered golden clouds was but the tip of the iceberg. The cloud layer connected to the Falling River, and occasional whirlpools below warned the two that unseen currents surged beneath.

“Now, bring us to Floating Island, and you may seek the golden lotuses nearby.” The old man, seeing the island close at hand, instructed the fish to land them there.

The seeds of the golden lotus were the fish’s favorite snack. Were it not for their seven-second memory, which made them forget the location, they would visit the floating island daily.

With the old man guiding them today, they were glad to go. The two fish planned to gather extra seeds to bring home for their young.

Eyes gleaming, the fish hurriedly dropped the two onto the island and dove into the lotus sea, disappearing in an instant.

The old man and Qin Chuan shook their heads and smiled.

The old man laughed at the fish’s carefree joy; Qin Chuan lamented that the ultimate truth of shrinking distances was not something he, half-trained as he was, could truly grasp—a membrane always seemed to block his comprehension.

This was the ultimate height, where life was rare, and few could survive the cold nights. Thus the floating island was barren; a careful eye might spot moss between the stones.

The rocky island was small, barely ten miles across, its jagged rocks hard to stand upon. They stumbled to a relatively flat green stone and sat facing each other.

“What is the Grand Pill of Heaven and Earth?”

“The old man spent his life pondering three methods. The first is to search the world, blending myriad medicinal ingredients together. Though small, the pill must contain all things—yet how difficult that is!”

“The second method is equally arduous. Before heaven and earth opened, there was only a mass of primordial chaos, later transformed by true meaning. If one could find a strand of untransformed primordial chaos, it could also be refined into a pill embodying the ultimate truth!”

“Difficult, so difficult!” The old man grew emotional, tears welling in his eyes. Wandering and exploring within this transformed world for countless days and nights, he had only the moon for company; today, at last, he had someone to confide in.

“The third method is to use the body as a furnace, refining the soul to the ninth transformation, ascending to the clouds!”

“As we stand now, above heaven and earth, save sun and moon, nothing is higher!”

“Then, is there a tenth transformation above the ninth?” Qin Chuan asked, brows furrowed.

“There is, but the path is broken, and all talk is empty. To achieve the tenth transformation is not impossible, but it requires bearing the weight of great sin!”

“To continue forward now, one must first reach the ninth transformation, then burn and refine all things, forging a primordial chaos pill comparable to sun and moon.” The old man’s gaze flickered, lost in thought.

“I’ll teach you the Ninefold Spirit Path. Memorize it well!”

The old man recited the techniques, each word a gem.

Yet Qin Chuan felt strange; everything seemed hazy, and the voice grew faint as a mosquito. He could not tell whether the world or himself was inverted.

“Do you understand?” The old man seemed oblivious to Qin Chuan’s odd state.

In a daze, Qin Chuan recalled leafing through the Apocalypse in the Eternal Battlefield—those techniques always turned to mist, unclear. Now, the scene was the same.

With certainty in his heart, he no longer worried about it.

“Clear in my mind!”

The old man nodded, deeply gratified, joyful to entrust his life's learning. “Good... good child!”

“Now I’ll help you forge the pill embryo. Focus on the heart’s formula, think of nothing else.”

“Man follows earth, earth follows heaven, heaven follows the Way, the Way follows nature.”

One taught the Way, the other sought it. In a cup, the reflection of emptiness was gathered; drinking, they savored the myriad illusory words of all things. Parting embroidered golden clouds, revealing a dust-like universe, lingering within a palm’s breadth.

...

“Phew!” Qin Chuan exhaled deeply. Returning to the present, he had gradually adapted to the abrupt dislocation of time and space. Three days had passed in the transformed world, though only an hour in reality.

Looking up, the incense had burned more than a third.

“The mystery lies within these three pill furnaces. Investigate, and you’ll know.”

“Remember, from now, you have only three hours. If you exceed it, not only will all efforts be wasted, but your life will be in danger!”

In his memory, after two hours, he could barely recall his teacher’s cautions; exhaustion showed, and even using the Mystic Breath Dust Technique was futile.

If he called his teacher now, he could safely acquire the Ninefold Spirit Path. But perhaps, by fate, the third furnace was the true key.

Success or failure, none can tell.

Both the Apocalypse and Ninefold Spirit Path were supreme arts revealing the world’s origin, making Qin Chuan hesitate.

A pill embryo hovered in the center of his lower dantian’s qi vortex. Perhaps the spiritual energy, seeing a guest, grew lively, chattering away like aunts gossiping.

After a while, seeing the pill embryo was nothing but a stubborn lump, their interest faded, and they dispersed tiredly.

Amused and bemused, Qin Chuan wondered if everyone’s spiritual energy behaved so, or if his own was particularly unruly. With a surge of resolve, he made his decision. Following his teacher’s instructions, he stepped toward the third furnace!

She held her fingers in an orchid shape, sitting cross-legged with palms up, sweat beading her brow and temples, clearly struggling to maintain the array. Qin Chuan knew his master, though always stern, proved her worth through actions.

He stepped forward and reached for the third furnace.

There was not the slightest trace of inscription upon it!

This was Qin Chuan’s last clear thought.

The rain had just stopped, droplets spinning along the veins of green leaves.

Cicadas chirped languidly in the blue-green dusk, while the old village dog shook water from its fur under the eaves, gave a dissatisfied bark, wagged its tail, and, finding no owner, trotted off to seek the little white dog next door, leaving crooked paw prints in the muddy village path.

This was an unremarkable village within the Yuan Kingdom—Twisted Jujube Village.

“The rain’s stopped! Let’s go catch fish!”

The cries of the children echoed through the small village. In less than half a cup of tea’s time, groups of boys and girls poked their heads out, shouted gleefully, and darted off, vanishing in a flash.