On the mountain, night had fallen.
The sky was dark, the wind howled outside the window, there wasn't a trace of light to be seen, and everything was steeped in gloom.
Returning to his room, Zhang Fan still had the words of that charlatan selling courses echoing in his mind. He lay down on the bed and pulled out his phone.
"What's wrong? Can't help yourself, wanting to contact her again?" Li Yishan shot him a look of disdain.
"Some people are only meant to be encountered, some stories are only fit to be treasured," Zhang Fan replied expressionlessly.
As soon as he finished speaking, Li Yishan suddenly stood up and bowed deeply to him.
"Why are you bowing to me?" Zhang Fan asked, confused.
"I'm begging you, can you stop being so corny!? I'm about to puke up last night's dinner."
"Only when one is passing through matters of love does it get this mushy. You feel like every love song in the world was written just for you… It's such a rare state," Zhang Fan said coolly.
At this moment, his mood didn't seem as distressed as it had been before coming up the mountain.
"Only when going through trials of love or life and death does the consciousness become most restless."
Suddenly, the old Daoist's words echoed in Zhang Fan's mind again.
"How do you meditate into stillness?"
Just then, Li Yishan moved over, glanced at the search terms on the phone, and revealed a strange expression.
"What are you doing? We came here to travel, don't tell me you really want to become a Daoist."
"It's an old tradition for people of Hua Country—since we're here, it'd be a waste not to truly experience it."
Zhang Fan, head down, scrolled through all sorts of posts on the Little Yellow Book, while Li Yishan started rummaging through drawers.
"What are you up to?"
"Looking for the hotel's flashlight. We'll go night-touring Zhenwu Mountain later," Li Yishan said as he dug into the closet.
"Laozi said, 'Returning to the root is called stillness, which is called returning to destiny'… If you want to get to the bottom of life's essence, only stillness can take you there…"
At that moment, a post caught Zhang Fan's attention. The poster's ID was [Thousand-Year-Old Demon], the avatar just an inky black square.
"The Elixir Book says, 'Suddenly you realize your true self, circulation brings the fortune fire, burning to see the golden body, attaining the Daoist Fruit of Non-action.'"
"Here, the true self refers to the primordial spirit…"
"The primordial spirit isn't something you forge—it's longevity that is cultivated; primordial spirit is innate, residing between the eyes, in this tiny spot called the Profound Passage by the Daoist Family, the Void by the Confucian Family, and the Spirit Platform by the Buddhist Family. In essence, it's the same thing…"
"Journey to the West contains many Buddhist and Daoist Family metaphors—Mountain of Mind and Heart describes exactly this part of the human body. That's why only when Sun Wukong reached there could he hear the Way and cultivate…"
"It's the same for ordinary people cultivating—only when you enter stillness and restore the primordial spirit can cultivation be discussed."
"Interesting stuff," Zhang Fan thought, intrigued, reading on further.
"In recent years, many web novels and dramas mention the revival of spiritual qi, but actually, spiritual qi has never ceased. It's just that ordinary people can't see it. Scientifically, the human eye has 125 million photoreceptor cells; after signals are generated, they're transmitted to the brain via the optic nerve and processed into images…"
"But humans can only distinguish a range of light wavelengths, just as there are limits to the frequencies we can hear…"
"Therefore, the Buddhist Family says the world perceived through the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind is illusory—that's the phrase 'All forms are illusory'..."
"If you see that all appearances are not real appearances, you see the Tathagata."
"What is the Tathagata? It is true nature; it is the primordial spirit… That is, seeing through phenomena to the essence. When you look at the world with the primordial spirit, you can see many things that were previously hidden…"
"When you truly enter stillness and no thought arises, that stream of celestial light entering—that, too, can be called spiritual qi, or Buddha nature… These are just names… When you reach that realm, you'll know what the real world is…"
Zhang Fan stared at the phone, gradually entranced. He had to admit, this Thousand-Year-Old Demon really understood the cultural essence of the Buddhist, Daoist, and Confucian Families.
"The Daoist Family emphasizes dual cultivation of body and spirit—sexual skill realized alone, life skill passed by the master. Sexual skill refers to techniques of entering stillness to cultivate the primordial spirit."
"So how do you self-realize entering stillness!?"
At this point, Zhang Fan perked up, finally seeing what he'd most wanted to know.
"The following content requires payment—please pay 888 yuan to continue viewing."
"..."
"I hate this era where knowledge is money."
Zhang Fan rolled his eyes, gritted his teeth, and paid 888 yuan—his precious savings from living frugally. When he clicked to continue, he was stunned; the page jumped straight to another link.
"Zhenwu Mountain Meditation Class—enroll now to use your 888 yuan voucher?"
"What the…" Zhang Fan felt scammed.
He tossed his phone aside, took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself.
"What happened?" Li Yishan noticed and asked.
"No… it's nothing."
Zhang Fan shook his head, picked up his phone, and continued searching on his own.
After a while, he found that methods for meditation were everywhere online—Zen, mindfulness, vision meditation, yoga, and so on—hundreds if not thousands of them.
It seemed that every school, every religion, valued entering stillness.
Eventually, Zhang Fan settled on the Daoist Sect's most common method: seated breathing meditation, and decided to try it.
Truth be told, it was simple: sit cross-legged, cup the hands together three inches below the navel, eyes half-closed, tongue touching the upper palate… all those moves, but the essence was to pay attention to your breath…
"Between every inhale and exhale is breath… When your mind gets messy, return your attention to your breathing…"
"This is the method of 'one thought overrides ten thousand.'"
Zhang Fan remembered the core technique and sat cross-legged. At first, he worried whether his posture was correct, but immediately, thoughts began to flood his mind—memories of campus days, the beautiful moments the two of them had shared… all rushing back like a tide, the contrast with his current situation making it worse.
Soon after, pain, sadness, anxiety, fear—emotions surged like floodwaters, making Zhang Fan feel like he was sitting on pins and needles, beads of sweat gathering on his brow.
"If you pass between those two trials, the consciousness is most restless…"
The old Daoist's words echoed in his mind again. Zhang Fan gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and tried to focus on the rhythm of his breathing. Gradually, the waves of emotion subsided, scattered thoughts faded one by one…
His breathing became smooth and deep. He felt his body relaxing, all soft and warm…
Just as the Daoist Scripture said, 'When you focus qi to its utmost softness, can you be like a baby?'
He hadn't gotten quite that far, but it was already a rare and special feeling. Gradually, Zhang Fan sensed a light streaming from outside his body, entering through his half-shut eyes.
"When not a thought arises, consciousness returns to stillness… Once that celestial light shines through, you'll see a world you've never seen before…"
The old Daoist's words flowed through his heart again.
"I did it… I did it…"
In Zhang Fan's heart, a voice resounded, joyous about glimpsing the Way.
"The hotel's flashlight really is bright…"
Just then, Li Yishan's voice rang in his ear.
"Damn… I knew it…" Zhang Fan cursed inwardly, then abruptly opened his eyes.
The night was dark, the wind fierce, the mountains cold and steep. Ancient palaces and temples loomed like slumbering beasts before his eyes. There wasn't the faintest trace of light around; in the murky darkness, the unknown seemed to lurk.
"Where… is this?"
Zhang Fan was stunned—hadn't he just been at the hotel?
His heart pounded as if in a daze. Drawn toward the palace and temple hidden in darkness, he looked up and saw three ancient, rough-hewn characters:
Nanxuan Palace!?
"This is Nanxuan Palace?"
Zhang Fan looked astonished. In the daytime he and Li Yishan had climbed for three and a half hours to reach the Golden Summit—how had a single lapse brought him from the hotel straight here?
"This…"
Zhang Fan started to panic. He spun around—and suddenly, every hair on his body stood on end.
On the mountain path not far away, a figure seemed to be standing there…
Zhang Fan's face changed slightly. By the faint and eerie moonlight, he could just make out it was a young girl, short hair grazing her shoulders, her skin pale, her aura ethereal, clad in brocaded black.
"It's her!?" Zhang Fan exclaimed in shock—for it was the black-clad girl he had seen earlier in the Worship Hall at Purple Sky Palace.