Chapter Eighty-Five: The Gathering Storm

Sage Primordial! Upon hearing Dan Qiusheng speak those words himself, everyone present grew even more convinced of Zhang Sanfeng’s strength. They all understood well what the title “Sage Primordial” represented. It was the highest designation in the hierarchy of vital energy established by the World Daoist Association, a system crafted to define the known levels of cultivation. And the Sage Primordial stood at the very apex of this pyramid.

“Fellow Daoists, I thank you all for coming from afar to help me awaken. I have already heard from Yichenzi all that you have done for me. Such great kindness cannot be repaid with mere words of gratitude. Henceforth, Wudang shall redouble its efforts for the martial world, to return your favor.” Zhang Sanfeng raised a cup of mild wine, prepared long before, and spoke in a resonant voice, “A moment ago, I asked Yichenzi to prepare some simple wine for everyone. Tonight, let us drink deeply, to wish everlasting peace and prosperity upon our land, and may our martial world flourish evermore.”

“To everlasting peace! To greater prosperity!” the crowd responded in unison.

Waves of movement swept through the hall as everyone raised their cups and drank. Even the abbot of Shaolin partook in this wine of blessings.

“Do you all know why I was so gravely injured, or why I was found beneath Wudang Mountain?” Zhang Sanfeng looked around at the assembly. No one replied; only countless pairs of eyes gazed at him, awaiting his answer.

He paused, then continued, “It all began over five centuries ago. When I was two hundred and eight, after my withdrawal from Wudang, the world assumed I had perished and my Dao had faded.

“In truth, I had simply grown weary of being venerated as some grandmaster, surrounded daily by throngs of disciples. That life was not what I truly desired. So, on a morning in early spring, I set out alone to wander the human world. Over nearly a hundred years, I encountered many people and many stories, tasted the myriad flavors of mortal life, and came to see existence as but a fleeting dream.

“At the age of three hundred, I found I had broken through to what is now called the Primordial Emperor realm, granting me a greatly extended lifespan. At first, I thought to go wherever fate led me, to pass away quietly without disturbing others, and that would be a good ending. But sometimes, the less you care, the more life refuses to let you go.

“Another fifty years passed, wandering the land, righting wrongs. In that time, I encountered the spiritual avatar of the ancient beast Qiongqi. With his overwhelming cultivation, he preyed upon whole villages in Henan, feasting on the spirit and life force of ordinary people, claiming thousands of innocent lives. No cultivator in the region could stand against him. Since fate brought me there, I could not ignore him. I vowed to avenge those lost souls and seal away Qiongqi’s spirit.

“With time, he cultivated to the ninetieth level of the Sage Primordial realm. For five hundred years, I pursued and battled him, always a step behind in power. In the end, beneath the sea at Gui Xu, I was exhausted and caught in a whirlpool that dragged me into the abyss. Just when I thought I had failed to avenge the dead, it was Qiongqi—my lifelong adversary—who saved me. Is it not ironic? As for how I ended up at the foot of Wudang Mountain, I suppose it was also Qiongqi’s doing.” When Zhang Sanfeng finished, he let out a long breath, as if exhaling centuries of suppressed burdens.

Hua Feng, Yun Meng, Bai Feng, Dan Qiusheng, Yichenzi, Abbot Liaoran—everyone present was hearing this tangled history for the first time, and they could not help but sigh with emotion.

“Master, what are your plans now?” Hua Feng, unable to contain himself before his lifelong idol, called out loudly.

Zhang Sanfeng looked down at Hua Feng and, seeing a young man with an air of quiet nobility, felt as if he were looking at his younger self—except this youth was accompanied by two peerless beauties.

Ah! His constitution is perfectly attuned to the balance of yin, yang, and the five elements. Who would have thought such a prodigy would appear among the farming clans? This just got interesting… Zhang Sanfeng quickly masked his surprise and replied calmly, “Next, I intend to reconstruct the Seven Stars Demon-Suppressing Array here at Wudang. When the time is right, we shall seal Qiongqi’s spirit in one stroke. I will not let sentiment cloud my resolve simply because he once saved me. However, the array will require at least thirty-six cultivators at the Primordial Emperor level. I hope the farming clans will lend their support then.”

“That is no issue at all. Should you need us, our clan will do everything in our power to help you complete the array and deal with Qiongqi,” Hua Feng replied respectfully.

“Our Daoist Alliance will likewise give you our full support. Just give the word, and we shall follow,” Dan Qiusheng declared, stepping forward and bowing to Zhang Sanfeng.

“All Daoists are of one family. When the time comes, Mount Longhu will also offer its strength,” Grandmaster Zhang added, approaching the group.

“Amitabha! Mount Hua, Mount Qingcheng, Snow Mountain, Kunlun, Emei, Xiaoyao, Shaolin, Diancang, Kongtong, and the Beggars’ Sect can each contribute one or two experts at the higher echelons of the Primordial Emperor realm for the array,” Abbot Liaoran announced after consulting with the others, his tone cheerful.

“Excellent. So long as we unite in purpose, the world need not fear the forces of darkness, nor worry that Qiongqi’s spirit will go unsealed. During my travels, I have heard whispers of old monsters lurking in seclusion, plotting to seize advantage in these troubled times. I urge you all, take heed for the safety of your sects and share any intelligence you may have. Now, with rumors of the apocalypse on the horizon, let all great and minor sects stand together through honor and disgrace alike. Once Qiongqi is sealed, we cultivators must do all we can to help China weather the coming storm. What say you?” Zhang Sanfeng looked upon the gathered Daoist world with quiet satisfaction.

“Naturally, there is no problem. The Daoist Alliance and the Cultivators’ Association of China have always worked toward this goal. You may rest assured, Master,” Dan Qiusheng replied.

“Well, it grows late. Let us all disperse for now and descend the mountain. We will keep in touch through the Cultivators’ Association network. Wudang disciples, return to your posts. Fellow Daoists, do not forget to take the Wudang gifts and medicinal herbs prepared by Ruofeng before you leave. Until we meet again!” Yichenzi concluded, following Zhang Sanfeng’s wishes.

One by one, the crowd stepped forward to bid farewell to Yichenzi, Zhang Sanfeng, and Dan Qiusheng.

Half an hour later, the throng of more than a thousand had all but departed. A cool breeze brushed Hua Feng’s face, bringing a sense of comfort. On Wudang Mountain in April, the mountain air, tinged with a hint of chill, drifted up from the valley.