Chapter Three: Enlightenment

After his terror subsided, Xu Cheng turned his gaze toward the unruffled old Taoist with the white beard.

“Master, you must have a way to help me remove this demonic mark from my palm!” he pleaded, his voice nearly begging.

“No, I have no such means. It depends entirely on you! Unless you seek out a high monk of the Secret Sect and have him use the power of the Sublime Lotus Sutra to dispel the demonic mark from your hand. But that journey spans tens of thousands of miles, and even if you wished to meet a master of the Secret Sect, you would not find him. So, best not to hope,” Master Lei replied in detail, and the more he spoke, the less confident Xu Cheng felt.

“Then... what should I do?” Sweat poured from Xu Cheng’s brow like rain.

“I offer you two paths: one, follow me and cultivate the Tao; two, take my letter of recommendation to Lingyin Temple and study the Dharma, purifying yourself,” Master Lei gave Xu Cheng two options. The first seemed manageable—cultivation. But the second, studying the Dharma, meant abstaining from women, wine, and meat; Xu Cheng had heard as much. If forced to live that way, he’d rather die.

“Master, please accept my bow as your disciple!” After a moment’s consideration, Xu Cheng knelt abruptly, bowing deeply to Master Lei.

“You’re clever, I’ll call you 'disciple' ahead of time, but we must inform the sect and complete the formalities tomorrow before it’s official,” Master Lei agreed readily, but insisted on proper procedure.

“Formalities?” Xu Cheng wilted visibly.

“Liao Zhen!” Master Lei’s voice carried for miles, but standing close, Xu Cheng felt no effect.

After a moment, a figure darted over holding a chicken, saluted and said, “Master, your disciple is here!”

“He will be your junior from now on. Teach him how to lay the foundation over the next hundred days. I must hurry to the sect!” With that, Master Lei turned into a streak of rainbow light and vanished.

“When did Master become so generous? Well, you’re his disciple now, see for yourself!” Liao Zhen muttered, tossing a book toward Xu Cheng, unaware that he was illiterate.

“Senior Sister, I can’t read,” Xu Cheng flipped through the pages, unable to recognize a single character. The illustrations showed human figures, but he had no idea what the red lines meant.

“You... you can’t read? Even the servants on the mountain can read, but you can’t! Fine, I’ll recite, you memorize,” Liao Zhen stomped her foot in annoyance, plucking a few feathers from her rooster in her agitation. The old rooster squawked in pain.

“I’m listening carefully!”

Seeing the pampered rooster lose some feathers, Xu Cheng felt oddly satisfied.

“There is a minor elixir in the human body, formed from the saliva in your mouth. Every day, meditate, gather this saliva, swallow it, and let your mind follow it into your lower abdomen. Focus your spirit there until a warm current arises,” Liao Zhen recited clearly, word by word, fearing the illiterate Xu Cheng would miss something. “Did you remember?”

“These words I can remember, but I don’t quite grasp their meaning,” Xu Cheng admitted, still lacking understanding.

“Simply put, meditate with saliva in your mouth, swallow it, and let your thoughts follow it into your lower abdomen, then keep your mind there until it heats up,” Liao Zhen pressed a finger on the qi sea point of Xu Cheng’s lower abdomen, showing him where to focus. Then, sternly, she ordered, “Now, meditate!”

He hadn’t expected the little girl to be so commanding. Xu Cheng lowered his head and awkwardly folded his legs into a seated position.

Liao Zhen’s eyes darted about, then she appeared beside Xu Cheng, rearranging his legs into a double-crossed posture.

For someone who had never trained in sitting meditation, this posture was agony; Xu Cheng cried out, “It hurts, it hurts!”

“What’s the fuss? Just swallow your saliva as I instructed!” Liao Zhen covered one ear with her hand and pressed his mute acupoint with the other.

Xu Cheng immediately discovered what it meant to cry out to heaven and earth and receive no answer, for he couldn’t make a sound.

He had no choice but to obediently follow Liao Zhen’s instructions, swallowing his saliva and focusing his mind on his lower abdomen.

Whenever he slackened and his back bent, Liao Zhen would tap his spine, making him sit upright.

The poetic scenery around him—the stone pavilion not far ahead, a giant green pine, fallen leaves, the wooden lodge opposite—now seemed to Xu Cheng nothing but a menacing demon: Liao Zhen.

Cultivation was truly arduous. When his whole body felt warm, his lower abdomen was boiling, and wisps of steam rose from his head, Xu Cheng wondered if he was becoming possessed.

“All right, finish up. Do whatever you wish!” Liao Zhen declared generously, for Xu Cheng was still an ordinary person; what could he do? Even if he descended Sky Peak Cliff, he’d lose half his life if not perish outright.

He crawled to the edge of the cliff, surveying his surroundings again and again. There was nowhere to run, and he wondered why his rooster obeyed the young Taoist so well, not realizing he himself was about to become a Taoist.

“Um, Senior Sister... could you teach me to read?” Xu Cheng thought literacy would be useful, at least to add some interest to his dull life.

“No. Once you open the spiritual aperture, you’ll know whatever you wish to know. I won’t waste my time,” Liao Zhen refused flatly.

“Spiritual aperture? What’s that?” Xu Cheng was utterly bewildered, never having heard of such a thing.

“Since your thirst for knowledge is so strong, I’ll be kind enough to tell you. The human body has countless apertures, but one governs them all—the spiritual aperture, located in your brow, hidden at the center of your head. Opening it may even awaken memories of your past lives!” As she spoke, Liao Zhen tapped Xu Cheng’s brow.

“That’s right. In Taoism we speak of opening apertures; in Buddhism, enlightenment means opening this very spiritual aperture. As the saying goes, ‘one aperture opens all others!’”

Unexpectedly, Master Lei returned at that moment.

“Master!”

“Master!” Liao Zhen and Xu Cheng spoke in unison.

“You seem to have managed your first cultivation well. Good—begin early, and you’ll rid yourself of the demonic mark sooner. My secular name is Lei Yuesheng; my Taoist title is Lingxu. I grant you the Taoist name Liaowu. The master leads you to the threshold; cultivation is your own affair. All depends on understanding. Is that clear?”

Master Lingxu, Lei Yuesheng, spoke sternly.

“I understand!” Xu Cheng bowed respectfully, though his mind wandered to the gold he’d left in the Lu household’s grove—he was still a worldly man, unable to avoid such thoughts.

“If you understand, go rest!” Master Lei waved his hand and vanished.

After meditation, Xu Cheng was refreshed and energetic; instead of resting, he wandered up and down Sky Peak Cliff. From now on, this was his territory, and as a former thief, his territorial instincts were strong.

“You habitual thief, scouting again?” Liao Zhen slapped Xu Cheng’s back as she spoke.

“How... how could I!” Xu Cheng tried to cover up his panic, thinking her strength was remarkable—he’d nearly fallen off the cliff, though she had used barely a tenth of her strength.

“Don’t think Master and I don’t know; we’ve both opened the spiritual aperture. Your actions are clear as day to us!” Liao Zhen laughed triumphantly.

So everything he did was obvious to them. Was opening the spiritual aperture really so powerful? Xu Cheng felt a surge of longing—if he could open it himself, what would happen...

“Take it slow, little brother. After a hundred days of foundation building comes the grand circulation of true qi, and only then do you open the spiritual aperture!” Liao Zhen gave Xu Cheng a look full of expectation, then went off to play with the purple-crowned rooster.