The Mushan Taoist Temple was a place few knew when it was built, and even fewer knew who built it. Even the people of Xiangcheng, not far from Mushan, didn't know when they first learned of the temple. Some said eight years ago, some said ten years ago, and others said there had always been a cluster of houses on the mountain, remnants from some unknown dynasty, not newly built at all.
But since a group of Taoists arrived on Mushan, the number of tourists had increased dramatically. The Taoists' cultivation methods were unknown, but their business acumen was top-notch. A bowl of white rice cost twenty coins, meat dishes fifty coins, vegetarian dishes thirty coins, and there was only one kind of wine, five hundred coins a pot—clearly marked prices, no deception.
In the prosperous Sui Dynasty, a peck of rice wasn't much. Even the cleanest and tastiest white rice at the mountain temple couldn't possibly be worth twenty coins, and fifty coins could buy a large piece of pork, enough to make countless meat dishes. The Taoist priests in the temple explained that the meat, eggs, and vegetables were all transported from Xiangcheng and carried halfway up the mountain, requiring considerable manpower and resources. Therefore, selling them for such low prices was understandable.
Most of the people living in the temple were the families of high-ranking officials and nobles—young masters and ladies—who wouldn't care about a few dozen or a few hundred coins. Besides, this was the only business on Mount Mu, so it was difficult for the Taoist priests not to make a fortune.
The name of the temple was quite fitting.
It was called Mushan Temple.
Mushan Temple had thirty-six Taoist priests, seventy-two young disciples, and eleven servants. It wasn't large, but it was well-organized.
An old Taoist priest with a goatee and an air of otherworldly refinement, whose Taoist name was Chuchenzi, was the abbot of Mushan Temple. However, few outsiders knew that the true master of Mushan Temple wasn't Chuchenzi, but a rarely seen, reclusive master. Even the Taoist acolytes and servants in the temple rarely saw this extraordinary man. Of course, Chuchenzi's thirty-six disciples knew what kind of person he was.
His name was Xiang Qingniu.
He was always busy.
His origins were mysterious and astonishing.
He had intricate connections with Master Xiao of the Yiqi Temple on Qingle Mountain, and also had unusual dealings with a certain important figure in the imperial palace of the capital. It was said that he had an extremely mysterious and even more prestigious senior brother who disappeared ten years ago while traveling. In Xiang Qingniu's own words, his senior brother had been bewitched by a demon while exorcising monsters in some mountain, and was now living as a hermit in some cave.
Xiang Qingniu was his name, not his Taoist title.
Even Chuchenzi didn't know whether this young, chubby man, who was his senior uncle by seniority, had a Taoist title. In fact, if he hadn't personally witnessed Xiang Qingzheng pluck a whole beard from Master Xiao of the Yi Qi Temple on Qing Le Mountain one year, he wouldn't have believed that this guy, who had no redeeming qualities other than gluttony and greed, was actually a member of the Daoist sect. And a very…powerful one at that.
Master Xiao was the leader of the Daoist sect, and the Yi Qi Temple on Qing Le Mountain was a sacred site. Although the reputation of the San Qing Temple on Wudang Mountain had grown increasingly prominent in recent years, it still couldn't compare to the Yi Qi Temple with Master Xiao presiding over it. In Xiang Qingniu's words, the Daoist sect's One Qi transforms into the Three Pure Ones; Qing Le Mountain is the Yi Qi Temple, and Wudang Mountain is the San Qing Temple, so one Yi Qi Temple is equivalent to three San Qing Temples. He wondered if the Daoist Ancestor, if he knew this explanation, would consider striking this fat man with lightning.
Xiang Qingniu was very busy, busy every day.
However, his tasks were simple, just two things, excluding sleeping.
If he was too full from eating, he would count his money; if he was too tired from counting money, he would eat something. Every time Chuchenzi visited Xiang Qingniu's secluded courtyard, if the young master wasn't sleeping, he was always eating; if not eating, he was always counting money.
Xiang Qingniu once said that those who are greedy for money and don't know how much they have will eventually lose it all.
Xiang Qingniu looked only fifteen years old, chubby and fair-skinned, but he was actually nineteen. His second senior brother had left him when he was nine. If he took off his Taoist robe and wore ordinary clothes, who would guess that he held such a prestigious position in the Sui Dynasty's Taoist sect? Chuchenzi vividly remembered when they were at Qingle Mountain, Master Xiao had humbly begged Xiang Qingniu for a Taoist name, and Xiang Qingniu had nearly plucked out all of Master Xiao's beard.
"I'll take my second senior brother's surname, Xiang! And my name will be Xiang Qingniu, so everyone will know I'm his brother!"
"You're a junior brother."
Master Xiao corrected.
"Junior brother isn't a brother?"
Xiang Qingniu grabbed Master Xiao's beard again and asked fiercely. "Of course, of course... Junior brother is also a brother, I'll fight anyone who says otherwise!"
Master Xiao winced in pain from being pulled, and after Xiang Qingniu let go, he couldn't help but sigh: "You've always been close to your second senior brother since childhood, how could he bear to abandon you!"
Chuchenzi still clearly remembered this conversation, and deeply remembered that he would rather offend his master than his junior uncle. Ten years ago, he was ordered by his master to travel the world and open a sect to take on disciples, ultimately choosing Mushan. Four years ago, his junior uncle arrived at Mushan Temple, and since then, he had lived a life of utter darkness.
It is said that not long after he descended from Qingle Mountain, his junior uncle, who was only nine years old at the time, also left without saying goodbye. He was never heard from again, and for some reason, he suddenly appeared at Mushan six years later. At that time, Chuchenzi dared not delay and immediately sent someone to Qingle Mountain to deliver a message. Master Xiao sent several groups of people to invite Xiang Qingniu back, but he just stayed there and refused to leave. Later, Master Xiao sent a message: "You don't have to return to Qing Le Mountain, but you're not allowed to leave again."
Xiang Qingniu pursed his lips and said to the disciple who delivered the message, "Go back and tell Old Man Xiao that six years ago, I traveled all over the Sui Dynasty penniless but couldn't find my second senior brother. He must have gone to a distant land. Within the Sui Dynasty, cultivators can travel without money, but outside the Sui Dynasty, disciples of the Dao Ancestor are far less sought after than those bald monks, so being penniless is impossible. Once I've saved enough silver, I'll leave the Sui Dynasty, and once I find my second senior brother, I won't go anywhere else."
Master Xiao sighed sadly upon hearing this reply and called him a fool.
Perhaps, this could be Xiang Qingniu's Daoist name.
...
...
When Xiang Qingniu woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, turned over, and wanted to continue sleeping, but the Daoists in the front courtyard were chanting the Tao Te Ching too loudly, which annoyed him. The *Tao Te Ching*, the *Chaos Sutra*—the Taoist patriarch said these three books were essential reading for all Taoist disciples, except, of course, Xiang Qingniu.
Hearing the recitation from the front, he grew angry, abruptly sat up, jumped out of bed, slipped on his shoes, grabbed the copper basin for washing his face, and, shirtless, revealing his flabby white flesh, strode out of the room and courtyard to the front and back gates. Then, he forcefully smashed the basin against Chuchenzi, who sat regally in the head seat.
A resounding clang echoed.
The recitation in the room immediately ceased. Looking again, Chuchenzi had somehow disappeared behind the stone statue of the Taoist patriarch.
The master of Mushan Temple cautiously peeked out from behind the stone statue, asking timidly, "Uncle-Master, what are your instructions?"
Xiang Qingniu muttered, "Can't you let people sleep?" and turned to leave. Only after Xiang Qingniu disappeared did Chuchenzi emerge from behind the statue, straightening his clothes and speaking solemnly, "Reciting the Tao Te Ching is to help you comprehend the natural principles left by the Dao Ancestor. This... lies in sincerity, not in volume... Listen to the spring breeze, silent yet natural; the spring grass, silent yet natural, so..."
"Master, we understand!"
The disciples said in unison, then began to recite silently in their hearts.
Chuchenzi nodded in satisfaction, thinking to himself that they were indeed all promising talents.
After returning to his small courtyard, Xiang Qingniu crawled into bed to continue sleeping. While getting into bed, he accidentally knocked over a copper coin. He immediately picked it up, blew on it, and put it away. Beside his wooden bed, there was a pile of countless copper coins and silver notes, their total quantity unknown.
Of course, he knew it himself.
Looking at the pile of money, Xiang Qingniu muttered to himself, "Old Xiao said one can't travel the world without a thousand taels of silver. I wonder when I'll be able to save up that much. I'll only wait here for five years. If I can't save up a thousand taels in five years, I'll leave too. My second senior brother probably didn't take much silver with him when he left. How far he can go, I can go too."
After saying this, he shook his head again: "I definitely won't go as far as my second senior brother."
After saying this, he felt hungry, and he knew he'd be too hungry to sleep. So he got up again, shirtless, his fat jiggling, and wolfed down the leftover cooked meat and pastries from last night. He patted his belly contentedly, his fat rippling like water.
After eating, of course, he needed to sleep. Counting money was physical labor; he'd have to wait until he was well-rested.
Soon, thunderous snoring filled the air.
An hour later, Chu Chenzi cautiously appeared at his door, half-hidden behind the door, and whispered, "Uncle-Master, are you still sleeping?"
Xiang Qingniu turned over and continued sleeping.
"Someone from the capital has arrived and is waiting at the front. Would you like to see them?"
"It's that old man Xiao again? No!"
"This time it's not...it's a eunuch from the palace, carrying His Majesty's decree. Although he still wants you to participate in this year's Martial Arts Academy examination, this time it's not for observation, but for invigilation."
"The Emperor sent someone?"
Xiang Qingniu sat up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, and said, "Sent by the Emperor? Then I should go...I can't listen to old man Xiao, but I can't disobey the Emperor."
Chu Chenzi breathed a sigh of relief, finally feeling much more at ease. He had always thought Xiang Qingniu was a fearless person, but now it seemed fortunate that he still had at least some respect for the Emperor. "My second senior brother once said that the words of the Sui emperor must be heeded, while the words of other emperors are like farts. Since it's my second senior brother who says it, he must be right, so I'll go this time. As for being the proctor at the Martial Arts Academy… I suppose they'll provide meals, right?"
Xiang Qingniu picked up his clothes and walked out, saying as he went, "I'm going to the capital now. Keep a close eye on Mushan Temple. You can lack anything, but if you come back short of the monthly income, I'll make you pay… Also, I know exactly how much money I have in my room. If I come back and find a single copper coin missing, I'll pluck out your beard and hang you from the rafters in the front yard to beat you."
"Don't worry, Uncle-Master… um… the imperial envoy is waiting for you ahead."
"Let him go back first. I'll go to Chang'an myself."
…
…
After descending Mushan, Xiang Qingniu realized he had forgotten to bring any provisions. His stomach was already growling with hunger after only half a day's walk. He had planned to walk to a town not far from Mushan to try and find some food, but after careful calculation, he realized he would definitely faint from hunger when he was about a mile and a half away from the town.
Just then, he suddenly heard a commotion behind him. He turned around and saw a string of about six or seven carriages. The drivers were all strong men, clearly not good people. Especially the withered old man driving the second carriage, who even made him feel an involuntary sense of unease.
As he hesitated, he noticed that the carriage windows were open, and many attractive women were looking out. He completely abandoned the idea of begging for food. In his eyes, the old man with the large gourd was scary, but far less so than those bewitching women.
Just when he was utterly despondent, he suddenly realized his luck had turned.
About a hundred meters behind the caravan, another carriage was following.
The driver was a middle-aged man, cracking his whip loudly. A young man in black sat next to the driver, his eyes closed as if he were asleep.
But that's not the point.
The point is that the driver was cracking his whip while eating meat.
The meat smelled delicious.