The dawn’s pale light kissed the horizon, painting the sky in hues of lavender and rose. Even before the sun fully roused, the Taoist, teetering on the precipice of expulsion, began his unsettling performance.

With a weathered peachwood sword clutched in his hand, he traced mystic patterns on the ground, each step echoing with ancient power. His voice, a resonant baritone, boomed with a “Taoist Verse” of dubious origin:

“Attend my words, O ye who listen! In ages past, existed the Great Void. Sun and moon embraced, their light intertwining. Mountains and rivers swelled with grandeur. A golden elixir, flawless and pure, is forged. No leak, no leak, as earth dragons clash in battle!”

With a flourish, the Taoist executed a sweeping leg, stirring a swirl of fallen leaves. Then, balancing precariously in a crane stance, he extended his sword. A single, trembling leaf clung precariously to its tip.

“The Light and Dark, the Heavy and Light, Yin and Yang in perfect balance. Heaven high, Earth deep, possessing inherent spirit. A spark of divine light ignites, blooming like starlight across the heavens! By decree, I gather the cosmos within my sleeve!”

He twirled the sword, his left sleeve snapping outwards in a futile attempt to capture the falling leaf. The wind caught it instead, sending it spiraling. Undeterred, the Taoist leaped, his leg extended high, his left hand formed into a sword-finger, guiding the blade towards some unseen destination.

“Turn away from wine, lust, wealth, and anger! Embrace cloud friends, rain companions, and the sun and moon as guides! Amass pure Yang, cultivate secret virtue. Turn the celestial gate, shift the terrestrial axis! Ambrosial wine, celestial elixir, borne on the wind by Immortal Masters, who come to deliver!”

Xue Ruyi, having observed in silence, was momentarily overcome with pity. Was this drunken display a facade, masking the hardships of a man about to lose his lodging? Had the Taoist’s mercenary behavior towards the young art peddler been born of desperation?

She sighed. “Cease your charade. I will not force you from the house.”

The Taoist, at last, stood still. One hand clasped behind his back, the other held in a sword-finger before him, he offered a curt sniff.

Xue Ruyi bristled. Was this charlatan attempting to seize an advantage? To presume her pleading for his continued presence?

The Taoist carelessly tossed his peachwood sword towards the muddy earth. His intent, perhaps, was to demonstrate a profound blade mastery, burying the weapon hilt-deep. Instead, the sword struck the ground with a dull thud, wobbling precariously before collapsing completely.

Doubt gnawed at Xue Ruyi. “Can you truly create these Three Officials Talismans?”

She had consulted Hong, the Magistrate, and Ji Xiaoping, the Registrar – two of the city’s most influential figures – and both had dismissed the notion of such a talisman as preposterous.

Hong, finally, had offered a sliver of possibility: perhaps a master talisman crafter, dwelling atop the mountain peaks, held a secret tradition. But such a feat, he insisted, would require one who had transcended the Upper Five Realms. No ordinary talisman practitioner, not even a terrestrial immortal of great power, could hope to conjure such potent magic.

The Taoist shook his head, gesturing towards the fallen sword. “I can attempt the crafting, but the likelihood of success is slim. Even were the talisman to successfully bridge the Yin and Yang, bypassing the city gods, the difficulty in gaining the approval of the Netherworld would be immense. It would be akin to wielding a long-dead emperor’s scepter against a current official.”

Xue Ruyi’s eyebrows furrowed. A charlatan, as she suspected.

The Taoist hastened to amend: “But I have a friend, extraordinary and gifted with great power. His words carry the weight of law, his pronouncements as potent as the invoking of the Three Officials Talismans themselves.”

Xue Ruyi scoffed. “Empty boasts! What connection could you possibly have to such beings?”

“Blessings upon you,” the Taoist intoned. “This is no fabrication. My friends of the mountain are indeed individuals of formidable skill.”

Xue Ruyi pressed. “Such as?”

The Taoist offered, “Should the occasion arise, I would be pleased to introduce you to a friend named Zhong.”

Xue Ruyi regarded him with curiosity. “What is his station? A registered cultivator from some celestial realm?”

The Taoist chuckled. “His nature will reveal itself in due time. Station is irrelevant; true heroes spring from humble beginnings.”

Sensing a glimmer of truth beneath the Taoist’s words, Xue Ruyi’s suspicions shifted. “Why are you so concerned for this young man? What do you gain?”

The Taoist replied, “The world is revealed within the human eye.”

Xue Ruyi scowled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

The Taoist elaborated, “A sage once said that those of us who pursue the path of enlightenment, by helping a single soul before us, we uplift all of humanity.”

A journey far beyond the horizon had stolen his patience, and chatter now felt tedious.

Xue Ruyi paused, then asked “Who said that?”

The Taoist chuckled. “As close as it is far.”

Xue Ruyi glowered at him.

The Taoist began. “Perhaps you have divined that the boy walks under the shadow of fate, his path obscured by tribulation. To bestow upon him material aid, wealth or otherwise, may prove a curse rather than a blessing. Such gifts may well be rejected by his fate, and turn to misfortune. For commoners, providing aid to the destitute is a worthy endeavor, a means of accruing good karma. But when a cultivator intercedes in the affairs of mortals, it is like a great lake overflowing into a small stream. Should the stream possess a robust bed, it may bear the influx of water. But should it falter, the lake may well flood it and damage both it’s banks and it’s foundations. It is as the old saying goes – unearned fortune. It is wise to understand this and to proceed with great caution. Fortunately, one’s fate, be they thick or thin, do not remain constant. The boy, in my eyes, bears a thin fate but a thick fortune – that is to say, his reward lies in waiting. He owes no debt to the heavens and is not guilty against the earth, and does not seek wealth nor value.”

Xue Ruyi nodded, though she understood little of the Taoist’s metaphysical pronouncements. She was, after all, a mere spirit, neither a seer nor a servant of the city gods, lacking the ability to perceive such subtle currents of fate.

She hesitated. “And myself, and Zhang Hou?”

The Taoist smiled. “Zhang Hou benefits from ancestral protection, and possesses within him the light of virtue. The celestial grace you bestow upon him will be received without harm.”

She pressed. “There will be no unforeseen consequences?”

For she was a being of Yin, and the boy walked in the realm of Yang.

The Taoist countered. “Does Yin and Yang lie only in geography, and not the spirit of the heart? Mistress Xue, do not mistake the order!”

Xue Ruyi breathed a sigh of relief.

Perhaps, she conceded, this false Taoist possessed a measure of genuine talent.

The Taoist turned to her with a question of his own. “Given your power, mistress Xue, why linger here, in this lesser nation? Why not seek a place of true spiritual potency?”

For a cultivator of her magnitude, she would have been more than capable to forge an empire of her own.

Xue Ruyi offered a vague explanation. “I made a wager, once, and composed a verse on a fallen leaf, much like the ancient poets. It was discovered by chance, and a vow was sworn within a shrine.”

Year after year, fan left untouched, bearing the breeze and moon in vain. Spring left and autumn came, only crickets could echo in its walls. Wild geese flew past, the moon resembled a hook.

The Taoist considered his words carefully, circling the matter with caution. “Might I inquire, mistress Xue, as to your skill with ancient texts?”

Xue Ruyi smiled. “I possess some skill in that regard. I take a keen interest in the art of interpretation, and have devoted much time to studying the works of the ancient masters. Do you seek my assistance in deciphering some difficult passage?”

If the matter concerned textual analysis, Xue Ruyi felt confident in her abilities. She considered herself an expert in such matters.

This touched upon the young Zhang Hou, her neighbor, who possessed a treasured heirloom – a script of thirty-six characters, unsigned, yet deemed by Hong the Magistrate as thirty-six jewels of wisdom.

This script formed the foundation of the boy’s cultivation, yet his progress was slow, barely scraping the Second Realm.

The thirty-six characters, she believed, could be divided into two sentences, the meaning of which was obscure. And this was where the true work in text lies.

Guided by her own interpretation, she had revealed the deeper meaning to Zhang Hou, and, according to the script’s hidden secrets, she helped the boy to embark upon the path of cultivation.

The Taoist offered with a smile, “In my youth, I heard from an old friend, nearly a mentor, the relationship between the words, letters, and the intention – each forming a line with weight to it. Later on, I discovered this from a Sage that ‘the name is in the knowing, and in knowing is the utility. To build the name is to weave the letters. Utility and beauty both, is the true knowing.’ ”

Xue Ruyi gestured impatiently with a ground-level peachwood sword. “Enough with the pedantry! Cease your displays of knowledge, and set down the characters. I will help you interpret them.”

A twinge of unease ran through the Taoist. He hesitated, unsure how to begin. The script held dear by Xue Ruyi and the boy was not overly complex, yet it held with it secrets of ancient magic. A simple glance was enough to determine that the script had roots in the practices of the Three Mountains. There was also a hidden caveat where her analysis was off, and now it was causing more harm than good. If the script was one for the dark art, he thought, the boy may have long perished. It was a fortunate accident that the boy had only achieved the Second Realm.

Reluctantly, the Taoist decided to risk being branded as a meddler. “Mistress Xue,” he began, “the sage Zheng Zhong possesses a vast knowledge of scholarly practices, but his interpretation and textual analysis is dubious at best. To use it would be ill-advised.”

Xue Ruyi’s eyes narrowed. “You have seen the script?”

The Taoist nodded. “Indeed. And I am also aware of the hidden magic it conceals.”

Xue Ruyi remained silent.

*“Using a wooden clapper to manage the fire ban of all laymen in the palaces and temples, bearing the torch east to the sea, west to the sands, to the north and south with word and sound to all four corners.”*

With a flick of his wrist, the Taoist conjured the peachwood sword into his hand. He inscribed the thirty-six characters into the mud, dividing them into their proper phrases, and explaining his reasoning.

“Zheng Zhong divides the first eighteen characters into three phrases, dividing ‘fire’ and ‘ban’ such that their meaning is lost. One only needs to reference the works of the Sage of Ritual to note that ‘fire ban’ is a two character phrase, and thus Zheng Zhong’s analysis is flawed, causing the duties of the court to be too wide-reaching. And so, one could say that what Zheng Zhong is doing does not befit the original meaning.”

“As for the rest, there has been debate and uncertainty, but in light of past precedent, we should find no error in using the word “with” to mean also. Thus it should be said that ‘Easternly to the sea, westernly to the sands, northernly to the South also, with word and sound to all four corners.’ It is an allusion to illuminate all.

“And thus, Zhang Hou’s mastery of these arts is flawed, and his understanding is limited. The path is wrong and thus the end will be no different. For in such a state is like that of a person who lives in a home with no roof!”

Xue Ruyi, as the Taoist spoke, alternated between frowns and sudden flashes of comprehension.

This Taoist was indeed no common charlatan. Wu Di, Chen Jianxian, whatever his name, Chen Pingan was but an avatar.

Earlier, Chen Pingan had used his talisman arts to impart some semblance of self onto a series of puppet talismans, with some having found their way to this small corner of the land.

He also studied the secrets of the Longhu Celestial Master, and in light of the script, he was compelled to study the art of textual analysis.

In Yu Zhou, there existed a man of faith who studied in a buddhist temple. The monk, a student of the four divisions of Buddhist Law. To do good, and to be good.

In Qing Xing, there existed a wandering traveler who took to his compass and studies the lay of the land, as well as the five arts of Yin and Yang.

And near Zhengyang Mountain, a man worked as a keeper of sorts, studying commerce through calculation.

Xue Ruyi looked upon the script in front of her, and asked “Who are you, really?”

Chen Pingan chuckled. “Who isn’t a Taoist of sorts?”

Xue Ruyi, studying his script, was soon lost in its depth, and found that his version was indeed the true interpretation!

When Xue Ruyi looked up, she found the man gone, sword in hand. “Going to set up shop?” she asked.

Chen Pingan chuckled. “A man must heed the signs of the wind. I shall be on my way now.”

Xue Ruyi shook her head. “This isn’t my house.”

Chen Pingan chuckled, and realizing she was right, he went back inside.

Xue Ruyi hesitated, and asked “Teach me the ways to break free and achieve a higher path?”

The Taoist shook his head. “Zhang Hou’s heart belongs to the sages, but I’m too unrefined to teach him such a thing.”

Xue Ruyi, growing worried, insisted “Stop holding such a grudge!”

The Taoist laughed. “A good man distinguishes his money, and he will seek to make the world a better place! How could I ever call myself a Taoist if I wasn’t going to be a man of the world?”

Xue Ruyi held out her hand. “Teach me your talisman arts!”

The Taoist sighed, and quickly walking towards her, said “I always had a good feeling about that boy.”

It was late February, and with the passing of a great snowstorm, the spring was at last here.

In the ancient country of Qingling, it was a tradition that the local would partake in spirits early.

After the storm, men and women would come together to share in wine and meat.

In Qingling, there existed a branch of the Sword Empire of Zhengyang, called the Bamboo Branch Sect.

Near a creek, an old man paced back and forth as a man in a cotton robe scurried towards him.

“Chenjiu! What are you doing here? Everyone is already here!” shouted the elder.

The man replied “Elder Bai, I left a bit early for you.”

“Just in time for a drink? You should be here before him, that’s just common sense!” insisted Elder Bai.

The man sighed. “Old habits.”

“You want things to go bad! He can be a tricky guy.”

The man said “If all goes wrong, blame me instead.”

The Elder gave the man a once-over and frowned. “Buy some new robes or something! You look like a bum!”

The man chuckled. “It’s how I like things, Old Bai!”

“You got the money? What you been doing all these years?”

“I’ll be rich, one day!” replied the man.

“You gonna sell them too?”

“Wear and sell, what’s wrong with that?” replied the man.

“What’s wrong with you? Why haven’t you tried to rebuild our order? Can’t rebuild if there’s nothing!”

The men lamented as no one wanted to rebuild the order.

Chenjiu sighed. “I’ll find a way.”

Elder Bai sighed. The mountain, or Yushi, was known for producing Jade.

The first master would often pay for the land. But once the locals had built their base, they’d realize they held onto something great. But they were still bound to old contracts, even if it meant just barely scraping by.

The master, a woman by the name of Guofeng, was known for the way she held to tradition.

The Bamboo Branch Sect and the Long Empire were at odds because of what the empire did.

Rumor had it that when someone came to the empire to claim their place, the old master stood her ground and said that all or nothing.

Chen Ping’an sighed. “Looks like I’m meeting an interesting soul today!”

Back in the day, he didn’t comment on the others, but this man was different.

Chenjiu then said “Elder Bai, can you say that this was my treat!”

The old man said “Three pots of wine.”

In this land, it was always Elder Bai who bought the drink.

“Two!”

“Done.”

The men then made their way. In a beach off to the side, a place called Sandflower, was the establishment.

The host was Elder Bai, and the guest was Xiahou Zhan.

And in tow were a pair, Chenjiu and the maiden Liang Yuping, also known as Banana Leaf.

The woman had a charm and a smile of sorts.

This was all Chenjiu and the others needed to know.

Liang smiled and sighed “Old Bai, I am quite relieved they didn’t make you wait!”

“It’s good that we have you with us!” laughed the elder.

Entering the room, Elder Bai apologized, as the other replied that it was all right.

Elder Bai then said “I will let them bring the food.”

Xiahou nodded, and Liang chimed in “We also have shrimp too!”

It took everything for the elder to not roll his eyes.

Xiahou nodded, and asked “Where did you get the shrimp?”

“From a merchant.” was the reply.

“Ah, from Yu!”

Chen Ping’an sighed.

In the empire, they had built an office that overlooked the merchants, and that’s who the others had relied on. It was all thanks to the old lord.

Xiahou turned towards the new man. “What’s your name?”

The elder replied “Let me show you.”

Chenjiu bowed and said “Chenjiu, at your service.”

Xiahou nodded. “A pleasure to make your aquaintance.”

Everyone took their seats. As people settled down, Bai told Chenjiu to serve wine. As he poured, Xiahou nodded to the old man.

The mood suddenly turned grim.

With the storm passing, everyone was acting a bit strange.

Xiahou then gave a shrimp to Liang.

The elder said, shooting daggers at Chenjiu, “Get to it.”

With the dust settled, the other masters were now making comments.

Taoyanbo was forced to leave everything.

And the old monk soon took charge of everything.

What was most tragic of all, was the great man’s fall from grace.

Liang, now smiling, commented “We shall follow whatever you say.”

Xiahou nodded and said “Ah, how nice.”

There were many masters, but as time marched on, people soon started to abandon the old ways.

Even still, Xiahou was here, in charge.

Looking upon the scene, Chenjiu said “Well now, it seems our guest today is a bit glum!”

Xiahou, turning to the man, simply nodded.

It seemed that the man had changed his mind.

Xiahou then asked “So, Chen is it? Tell me, why do you hate this man?”

The man chuckled. “I am simply envious! What can’t he do? It’s sickening!”

The elder was left speechless.

Xiahou laughed. “He is simply shallow! He’ll get in trouble.”

“Is it all right if this was my treat?” asked Xiahou.

“Huh?”

At the beach off to the side, Liang and Xiahou now walked.

It was a moment that few would ever know of.

Elder Bai soon joined, and said “They’re not talking.”

Guofeng sighed. “He is not one to talk. Just be ready.”

With the storm coming, she knew things were about to get even more complicated.

Elder Bai sighed “We’ll do what we can. It’s all we ever can do.”

Guofeng sighed “We must work together. We’re almost out of time.”

A boat then arrived with two monks, the elder and a junior, ready to talk things over.

Long story short, one had a lot of connections.

One had a knife with a bamboo handle.

The old monks then asked “What if we take action?”

“Then so be it.” was the reply.

A creek ran nearby, and Chenjiu was fishing.

Elder Bai said “How’s it going?”

Chenjiu looked up and said “Huh?”

Elder Bai then said “Do you know the meaning of the tree?”

The man replied “What can I do?”

Chen Ping’an then said “What’s the answer?”

It was then that the old man was possessed by a different soul.

The true man said “You can’t be serious. Are you doing this?”

“How did you find me?” asked Chen Ping’an.

“Luck.”

“You’re not going to say? I’m going to let them know.”

Chen Ping’an then said “It’s a matter of time. They will be here.”

Chen Ping’an then said “Tell me this, is it an infinity of seconds?”

“Are you going to say anything honest?”

“All right. Do you have a piece of me?”