During the blistering heat of the seventh lunar month in Chengdu, Sichuan, the sun bore down fiercely on the city, making the earth seem to smoke beneath its rays. Inside an authentic Sichuan restaurant, four distinctive individuals sat around a table:
A middle-aged, pudgy man with scholarly glasses peered at a spread of fiery red dishes, his small eyes darting around hungrily as he practically drooled in anticipation.
Across from him, a young man in a short-sleeved camouflage shirt with a crew cut smirked while absently fiddling with a jade thumb ring.
Next to them sat a tall, attractive young woman in blue leggings and a white tank top, who stared at the table of spicy food with obvious disapproval, sighing dramatically.
The fourth was a young man in a white robe and black cloth shoes, with thick eyebrows and large eyes. Despite his youth, he carried himself with a dignified presence, already possessing the immortal Daoist spirit of someone on the path of cultivation.
The pungent aroma of spicy dishes filled their nostrils. The young man in camouflage teased, "Professor Wang, if you can't handle spicy food, don't force yourself! Your butthole will seriously regret it tomorrow!"
"What do you know?" retorted the pudgy man. "A real man appreciates the finer things in life. How can you visit Sichuan without eating spicy food? It's practically mandatory! Come on, Wenbin, let's drink." He raised his glass to the man in white.
The young woman immediately complained, "You know I can't eat spicy food, yet you ordered an entire table of it. You're so selfish, Professor Wang!"
Wenbin smiled diplomatically and suggested, "Professor, maybe we should order some non-spicy dishes as well. We don't want these two to go hungry—we have a mountain to climb tomorrow."
Hearing this, the young woman brightened up: "Wenbin is the best! Don't you agree, Yichao? Hehe!"
"Of course Wenbin is nice to you. He can subdue demons, but he can't tame you, little witch!" Yichao emphasized the words "little witch" with a mischievous grin.
"Who are you calling a little witch? You military blockhead!" Yiran shouted, springing to her feet.
"I'm talking about you, little witch, little witch!" Yichao taunted, already running circles around the restaurant with her in hot pursuit.
The group had assembled for a cultural relic survey. Mr. He was too old to participate, especially after losing his wife, so his son He Yichao had come in his place—the young man in camouflage. The pudgy man with glasses was Professor Wang, the leader of this survey mission. The man in white robes was Zha Wenbin, the technical consultant, and the "little witch" was Leng Yiran, daughter of Director Leng Jihong from the Provincial Archaeological Research Institute.
Despite her cold-sounding name, Yiran was a complete people-person. A recent college graduate assigned to the institute, she had grown up in the same neighborhood as Yichao. As a child, she was always following him around causing mischief, wilder than most boys. Her fierce personality made many boys somewhat afraid of her, earning her the nickname "little witch." She had joined this trip for practical experience, originally not part of the team, but when she heard they were going to Sichuan, she dreamed of sightseeing and begged her father until he agreed. Before leaving, her father repeatedly instructed Wenbin to keep an eye on his daughter, and if she got too wild, he could even discipline her!
The next day, at Mount Qingcheng, Wenbin gazed at Jianfu Palace beneath the hundred-meter-high Zhangre Peak, surrounded by five mountains. Ancient trees grew lushly around it, with rocky caves above and clear streams below, creating a serene dwelling place.
"What a heavenly abode!" he exclaimed. "Truly worthy of the saying 'Qingcheng is the most serene place in the world!'" Meanwhile, Yiran was busy making Yichao take photos of her in various poses, having the time of her life. She thought fieldwork was just about sightseeing after all—not nearly as boring as people had led her to believe.
Professor Wang admired the masterpiece of Qingcheng—a couplet of 394 characters—and recited Lu You's famous poem: "Golden seal script adorns the golden gates, giant bamboo flanks the path like standing guard over azure clouds." He turned to Wenbin, asking, "What do you think of the feng shui here?"
Wenbin smiled and said, "Mount Qingcheng is surrounded by thirty-six peaks. Look at the main peak, Laoxiao Top, soaring into the clouds, perfectly embodying the Daoist concept of thirty-six celestial grottoes and thirty-six layers of heaven. The magnificent scenery, the ethereal atmosphere—it's truly a paradise on earth. No wonder Celestial Master Zhang chose this place. It deserves its reputation as the Fifth Celestial Grotto. The feng shui is absolutely superb!"
Yiran, having finished taking photos and overhearing their discussion, interjected: "What does thirty-six mean?"
Yichao, seeing that Yiran was about to pester Wenbin, teasingly scolded, "What would you know? Daoist practices are serious matters, and these mysteries are beyond the comprehension of a little witch like you!"
Wenbin, not minding the interruption and in good spirits, began explaining: "In Daoism, there's a concept of thirty-six layers of heaven. The heavens are divided into six realms with thirty-six layers. Of these, twenty-eight are at the lower levels. Above the Xiule Jinshang Heaven, eight more layers were added: four Brahma Heavens, three Pure Heavens, and the highest level—the Great Canopy Heaven."
Professor Wang, growing interested, asked, "What about the first twenty-eight layers?"
Wenbin, noting their fascination, continued: "Alright, I'll explain the thirty-six heavens of Daoism. They're divided into six realms:
"The first realm has six heavens: Taihuang Huangzeng Heaven, Taiming Yuwan Heaven, Qingming Hetong Heaven, Xuantai Pingyu Heaven, Yuanming Wenju Heaven, and Qiyao Moyi Heaven.
"The second realm has eighteen heavens, in sequence: Wuyue Heng Heaven, Taiji Mengyi Heaven, Chiming Heyang Heaven, Xuanming Gonghua Heaven, Yaoming Zongpiao Heaven, Zhuluo Huangjia Heaven, Xuming Tangyao Heaven, Guanming Duanjing Heaven, Xuanming Gongqing Heaven, Taihuan Jiyao Heaven, Yuanzai Kongsheng Heaven, Taian Huangya Heaven, Xianding Jifeng Heaven, Shihuang Xiaomang Heaven, Taihuang Wengzhong Heaven, Wusi Jiangyou Heaven, Shangtie Ruanle Heaven, and Wuji Danshi Heaven.
"The third realm has four heavens: Haoting Xiaodu Heaven, Yuantong Yuandong Heaven, Hanchong Miaocheng Heaven, and Xiule Jinshang Heaven.
"The fourth realm, as I just mentioned, comprises the four Brahma Heavens: Wushang Changrong Heaven, Yulong Tengsheng Heaven, Longbian Fandu Heaven, and Pingyu Jiayi Heaven.
"The fifth realm consists of the Three Pure Heavens: Jade Pure Heaven, Upper Pure Heaven, and Supreme Pure Heaven.
"And the highest state is the sixth realm—the Great Canopy Heaven!"
"Wow, that's complicated!" Yiran exclaimed after hearing all this. "Wenbin, which level are you at?"
"Me? Haha, I don't know... Let's go inside and look around," Wenbin replied, ignoring her persistent questioning as he led the way. The others followed, though Yiran was still counting on her fingers, looking up at the sky, trying to imagine how the heavens could be divided into six realms and thirty-six layers.
Mount Qingcheng had excellent air quality and naturally attracted many visitors. Pilgrims and tourists came in droves. Inside the temple, several Daoists were interpreting divination slips for tourists. Wenbin watched with interest for a while, observing a middle-aged woman who, after being told of her upcoming good fortune, happily left a donation and departed with obvious delight.
He shook his head and turned to Professor Wang. "I didn't expect that even this famous Daoist mountain has been tainted by worldly affairs, performing such tricks. Well, Professor, let's just consider ourselves tourists today. Mount Qingcheng is still Mount Qingcheng, but the 'Dao' here probably isn't the 'Dao' we're looking for."
Professor Wang gulped down several mouthfuls of water, clearly suffering from the heat. "It's the same everywhere now. They use ancestral heritage as a front for revenue generation. Where can you find people genuinely seeking the Dao these days? This is why the authorities initiated this survey—hoping we might uncover some relics left by our ancestors."
"Let's head up and take a look," Wenbin suggested. "These palaces have been developed into tourist attractions, and they're crowded everywhere. If there were any relics, they've probably been discovered long ago." He led the way toward their destination: Laoxiao Top, the first peak of Qingcheng.
As they walked, Wenbin continued: "I heard there's a Lao Jun Pavilion at the summit. Since we're here, we should go pay our respects. Can you all keep up?" Yichao naturally had no issues, and Yiran shrugged, patting her long legs to indicate she was capable. Only Professor Wang was already drenched in sweat.
The group visited the Lao Jun Pavilion, paid respects at the Celestial Master's Cave, and apart from enjoying the beautiful scenery, listened to Wenbin's explanations of basic Daoist history, making the journey pleasant and light. By the time they prepared to descend, it was already evening. They arrived at a small town at the foot of the mountain, looking for lodging.
Hostel owners approached, shouting and tugging at their clothes, frightening Yiran who thought she had stumbled into a den of bandits. She nearly got into an argument with a few older women. Just as she was wondering where to complain, an elderly man resembling a farmer approached them: "Are you visitors to Mount Qingcheng?"
Yiran, assuming he was also soliciting customers, pouted and wouldn't answer. Professor Wang, exhausted by the commotion, casually asked, "Yes, we're looking for a place to stay. Are you also a tout?"
The old man remained quite polite. He removed the straw hat from his head and used it as a fan. "I have a farmhouse inn that costs half as much as these hotels. Apart from being a bit remote, it's quite clean. If you decide to stay, I can give you an even better rate."
The town was called Ziping Settlement. It was said that in ancient times, the great strategist Zhuge Liang "recruited 1,200 men" to protect the Dujiangyan irrigation system and stationed troops at Ma Chao Ping—this very place. Due to its proximity to Mount Qingcheng, this once historically significant military stronghold had become a small but well-known tourist town.
Wenbin, not one for crowds, was eager to find a quiet place away from the tourist throngs. Hearing about a peaceful option, he agreed to check it out. Led by the old man, the group set off.
The inn was a two-story building owned by a farming family who had converted it into a small hotel to capitalize on the tourism trend. Though far from luxurious, it was adequately clean. Perhaps due to its remote location, there were no other guests besides Wenbin's group of four, giving them the peace and quiet they wanted.
The owners were exceedingly hospitable. With few regular customers, they were especially warm toward these four visitors, insisting they join them for dinner. People from the Sichuan-Chongqing region are traditionally very hospitable to guests. Around a large round table, they enjoyed wild mushrooms, game meat, and homestyle stir-fries. Even Yiran, who normally avoided spicy food, found herself relishing the fiery soup, not to mention Professor Wang and Wenbin. As for Yichao, he had already downed three cups of white liquor with the host and was forming a brotherly bond.
It turned out that the household had a son who had also served in the military, and upon questioning, they discovered he had been in the same unit as Yichao. The reunion of comrades brought special closeness, and the two were soon drinking until their faces turned red, engaged in animated conversation.
As the drinking continued, so did the talking. The old farmer was named Zhuo Yugui, and his demobilized son was called Zhuo Xiong. Because of his strong build, people said he was like a bear, and over time, the nickname morphed into "the blind one." But he wasn't actually blind—his eyesight was just fine!
Originally, when his son returned from military service, the authorities had arranged an official position for him in town. But the young man had a strong sense of justice and couldn't stand the bureaucratic working style. After several conflicts with his superiors, he simply resigned and helped his family run this small "agritainment" business. Though modest, they lived quite contentedly. This introduction earned Yichao's admiration, prompting him to down several more cups of liquor. He even called for larger bowls, but Wenbin managed to stop him.
Professor Wang, also quite a talker, revealed his identity and, having spent years conducting archaeological work in rural areas, naturally inquired about any local legends or strange occurrences. Old Zhuo, upon learning he was dealing with an archaeological expert, showed increased respect. The old man stroked his balding head and said, "To be honest, there are bound to be legends in our Mount Qingcheng. This Daoist mountain has always had tales of immortals, and we've been immersed in them since childhood. During the Cultural Revolution, many ancient sites were destroyed. If you're looking for them, I'm afraid there might be no traces left. However, there is one place, but..."
Wenbin, quite interested, asked, "But what? Please tell us, old fellow."
To their surprise, Old Zhuo waved his hand dismissively. "Forget it. That place... you'd be better off not going there."
"Oh? Do tell us more about it."
Old Zhuo nodded: "Very well. I'm not originally from Ziping Settlement. For generations, my family lived in a small mountain village more than thirty kilometers from here. Although isolated, it was a beautiful place with clear waters and green mountains. Thirty years ago, I had a daughter named Zhuo Lian. The year my son was born, his sister and her mother went into the mountains to gather medicinal herbs. Our people have made a living collecting herbs for generations, but there was one place everyone avoided. Those who returned said mother and daughter had been lured there by little ghosts. After that, they never came back..." As he finished, Old Zhuo's eyes filled with tears, clearly remembering the painful memories.
Professor Wang handed him a cigarette, gesturing for him to take his time. Old Zhuo lit it and continued: "About ten kilometers from our village stands a great mountain. From a distance, it appears pitch black, perpetually shrouded in mist. Legend says magical herbs and lingzhi mushrooms grow there, but every family has inherited the same warning—never set foot on that mountain! Before Liberation, when times were incredibly hard, a few brave herb gatherers thought to enter the mountain seeking valuable herbs to trade for food. Three experienced hunters went in, all carrying powder guns. They were gone for seven days with no sign of return. The villagers, frantic with worry, sent three more hunters to search for them. After another seven days, only one of the second group returned, covered in wounds, repeating only that 'there are ghosts inside.' Three days later, he died..."
"Ghosts inside?" Yiran was listening with fascination and couldn't help interrupting, earning a stern glare from Professor Wang. The young woman stuck out her tongue and propped her chin on her hands, falling silent.
"Yes, the man who returned kept repeating those words until his dying breath. Afterward, no one dared to enter the mountain again. I don't know how my child's mother ended up there—surely some mountain spirit lured her away. Poor me, left to raise little Xiong, who wasn't even a year old, all by myself."
Hearing this, Wenbin interjected: "Old man, how are you certain they entered that mountain?"
The old man wiped away his tears and replied stiffly: "That day, someone at the mountain pass saw them enter. He called out several times, but got no response. When he looked again, they had vanished into the mist. He rushed down to inform me, and I immediately gathered people to search, but the mist was dense, and miasma filled the air. No one dared venture further. I could only wait at the entrance for over a month, but they never appeared. Fearing the worst, I came down with Xiong to Ziping Settlement. I knew some carpentry, so I settled here. Later I heard the mountain villagers gradually moved away too, though I don't know where they went. By now, that small village is probably abandoned."
"Abandoned? No one lives there anymore?" Professor Wang asked.
"No one. The soil is poor, and transportation is difficult. Even with strong legs, it takes a full day to bring herbs down to exchange for food. As more young people left to find work elsewhere, the village emptied out."
Wenbin nodded: "Do you know what the mountain is called?"
Old Zhuo clicked his tongue: "Of course I know. The mountain supposedly has magical herbs and lingzhi, but they're guarded by Qi snakes, so it's called Mount Qifeng."
Yiran immediately giggled, saying: "Qi snakes? Old man, you must be joking! Hehe, I know about Qi snakes—they're also called five-pace vipers. They're mainly found in Zhejiang and the two Guangs. How could there be Qi snakes in Sichuan?"
Old Zhuo wasn't pleased. His face paled as he retorted: "What would a little girl like you know?"
Yiran pouted dismissively, looking as if she was enjoying the spectacle, but Wenbin said: "Qi snakes were first mentioned in 'Lei Gong's Treatise on Drug Preparation.' They're also known as white-flowered snakes. The 'Kaibao Materia Medica' states: 'They live in southern lands and various mountains in Shu Prefecture.' The 'Illustrated Classic of Materia Medica' notes: 'They are now found in Qianzhong, Qi Prefecture, and Deng Prefecture.' The 'Compendium of Materia Medica' says: 'Flowered snakes exist in Hu and Shu regions, but today only those from Qi are famous. Even in Qi, they are rare. Those sold in markets and collected by officials come from various mountains in Xingguo Prefecture in Jiangnan.'
"So historically, Qi snakes were recorded in the Bashu region. It's not impossible that some might exist in these deep mountains. Don't speak carelessly."
After dinner, Wenbin and Professor Wang shared a room, Yichao roomed with Zhuo Xiong, and Yiran, being the only female, naturally had her own quarters. Once everyone had been assigned rooms, they retired for the night.
After washing up, Wenbin felt something strange about the whole affair. He called the other three for a quick meeting, starting with: "According to the old man, this mountain is perpetually shrouded in mist, rarely visited by people. Anyone who enters could easily get lost. But there's one thing I don't understand—why would every family pass down the same warning? That's peculiar enough."
Professor Wang sipped some wild tea collected from the mountains, smacking his lips appreciatively: "I noticed that too. Why would every family leave the exact same instruction? It's quite odd."
Yichao immediately added: "Maybe the villagers' ancestors all knew Mount Qifeng was dangerous, so they left this warning?"
Yiran disagreed, calling out to Yichao: "Chao, are you stupid? Would a warning about not entering a mountain be more important than telling your descendants about hidden family treasures?"
Yichao countered: "You're the stupid one! What treasures would a remote village have? You think they were all wealthy Jiangnan masters?"
While Wenbin was deep in thought, Professor Wang suddenly said: "Treasures? Yes! If an entire village passes down the same warning, it can only mean one thing—there must be something on Mount Qifeng that everyone feared or considered more important than anything else! What do you think, Wenbin?"
As Wenbin continued pondering, and the others were still arguing, there was a knock at the door. It was Zhuo Xiong, who had heard the guests were still awake and came looking for Yichao. Overhearing their discussion about potential treasures on the mountain, he laughed: "In our village, they say potato plants produced tubers no bigger than small potatoes. The land was incredibly poor. What treasures could possibly be there? I don't know how our ancestors survived in that place for a thousand years." He said this casually, but what kind of people was he talking to? People who dealt with either history or supernatural phenomena! Everyone immediately perked up!
Wenbin looked at Zhuo Xiong and asked: "A thousand years? You're saying your village has existed for a thousand years?"
"Yes, they say there are stone statues of people and horses in the village. I don't know which dynasty they're from—I only heard this from my father when I was little. Our village may be remote and small, but it has a thousand-year history!" As he finished, Zhuo Xiong couldn't hide his pride.
"Stone people and horses? What do you think, Professor Wang?" Wenbin asked.
Professor Wang was already excited: "If these things really exist, it means there must be historical relics there. We've come to the right place! We must go in and have a look tomorrow!"
Archaeologists' sensitivity to such artifacts rivaled Wenbin's sensitivity to burial grounds. Yichao had already put his arm around Zhuo Xiong, asking: "Old comrade, are you serious? You'd better not be making this up."
Zhuo Xiong thumped his chest: "My old man told me. How could it be false?"
"We shouldn't delay. What do you think, Wenbin?" Professor Wang could barely contain his excitement.
"We'll enter the village tomorrow. Brother Xiong, do you know how to get to your original village?" Wenbin asked.
Zhuo Xiong replied: "I was only a few months old when I left the village, and I've never been back. But we can ask my father tomorrow. If you want to go in, I can guide you. It would be good to pay respects to our ancestors."
After chatting a bit more, everyone returned to their rooms to rest, leaving only Professor Wang and Wenbin. Wenbin murmured: "Mount Qifeng, a small village... Professor Wang, have you considered why a village would pass down the same warning for a thousand years? I see only one possibility—the villagers weren't afraid, but rather were protecting something. Let's sleep now and see tomorrow." With that, he turned off the light and went to bed, waiting for dawn.
Early the next morning, everyone rose. The mountain air was truly exceptional. Wenbin took a deep breath, instantly clearing away the previous day's fatigue. Old Zhuo and his son had already prepared breakfast for everyone. Eating simple farm-style dishes and drinking clear rice porridge, Professor Wang couldn't help remarking that even without practicing Daoism, living beneath Mount Qingcheng was already like being an immortal!
After breakfast, Wenbin continued last night's conversation with Old Zhuo, whose description matched his son's. The village wasn't large—about a hundred households. No one knew which dynasty the people had migrated there from. Because of its remote location and poor soil, no women from outside were willing to marry in, so most villagers intermarried. By the current generation, almost every family was related in some way. Regarding the stone statues, Old Zhuo earnestly said they were sacred objects that shouldn't be touched. As for the mountain, he strongly advised against going there.
Professor Wang explained their purpose, saying they needed to investigate, and mentioned that Wenbin was a Daoist who could help perform rituals for his wife and daughter's spirits. This finally convinced Old Zhuo to let his son guide them. He called Xiong over and explained the route.
Before departing, Wenbin sent Yichao to town to stock up on necessary provisions. Beyond dried food, he bought several bottles of advanced canned kerosene, climbing ropes, flashlights, spotlights, and candles. More importantly, he needed Daoist supplies, which were conveniently available at the foot of the sacred Mount Qingcheng. Within a morning, everything was ready. Zhuo Xiong said the mountain path would be difficult, so he brought two mules to carry their equipment. The group prepared to depart. Wenbin had strongly encouraged Yiran to stay at Old Zhuo's home, but her persistent nagging eventually wore him down, and he reluctantly let her join.
The journey of over thirty kilometers through mountain terrain proved even more difficult than they had imagined. Fortunately, the group—a former soldier, archaeologists, and a Daoist who all had experience living in the wilderness—was well-prepared. However, with the young woman slowing them down, they didn't reach the village until late at night.
It was the sixth day of the seventh lunar month. Though the moon wasn't full, it provided enough light to see the path. When the group reached the village entrance, a vast basin appeared before them. So the village was built in such a basin! In the moonlight, the scattered settlement looked dilapidated and even desolate, causing everyone to draw in a sharp breath.
No one knew the village layout. If they stumbled down in the dark, they might seriously injure themselves. Looking around, Yiran was already complaining of exhaustion, practically ready to collapse on the spot.
At that moment, Wenbin was gazing down at the village, seemingly contemplating something. Everyone waited for his signal. After the time it took to smoke a cigarette, Wenbin finally turned to the group and said: "This village is strange. Looking down from this mountain, it should be a basin, but I can't see the entire layout. Look, that mountain opposite us must be Mount Qifeng." He pointed ahead, where moonlight illuminated everything except one spot that remained pitch black, as if it had swallowed all light.
Yichao took out his military tactical spotlight and shined it toward the distance, but still couldn't make anything out. It was like facing a bottomless abyss. After thinking for a moment, Wenbin said: "We'll rest here tonight. Chao, you and Brother Xiong set up the tents. The three of us will take turns keeping watch. This place isn't ordinary—it's been uninhabited for many years. Not only is there no trace of human presence, but we haven't heard even a single animal call. It's unnaturally quiet."
He and Professor Wang collected some dry firewood and built two large campfires. They heated water, and after everyone ate some dried food, they prepared for sleep. Before leaving, Xiong had brought two hunting rifles—the single-shot type villagers use to hunt wild boars. The bullets were made of shotgun pellets and large lead bullets that spread on impact. The lead bullets would change direction when hitting bone, penetrating internal organs and causing burn wounds. At close range, they were incredibly powerful, capable of downing a 200-pound wild boar with one shot.
The two guns naturally went to the two former soldiers, one each. Wenbin arranged for himself, Yichao, and Zhuo Xiong to each keep watch for three hours, with Zhuo Xiong taking the first shift, Wenbin the middle, and Yichao the last. Before sleeping, Wenbin scattered some saltpeter and sulfur around the tents, saying that if anything stepped on it, it would catch fire. Still not feeling secure, he erected seven forked branches in a small Big Dipper formation, placing his seal in the center as a formation trigger, before going to sleep.
Perhaps exhausted from the journey, Wenbin fell asleep soon after crawling into his tent. In the midst of deep sleep, he heard one of the mules suddenly neigh loudly, jerking him awake. He rushed outside to find nothing unusual except the blazing campfires and Zhuo Xiong nodding off beside one. Wenbin steadied himself and sensed his surroundings but detected nothing strange. Glancing around, he noticed the two mules had also quieted down.
He tapped Zhuo Xiong's shoulder, who embarrassedly rubbed his head and admitted he might have been tired and fallen asleep. Wenbin told him to rest, saying he would take over the watch. Nothing happened for the remainder of the night except for the mountain wind. Yichao woke to find Wenbin hadn't called him, checked the time, and stepped outside. The mountain breeze had driven away Wenbin's sleepiness as well, so the two decided to share a bottle of alcohol, taking turns drinking.
The conversation turned to Yichao's mother, Madam Wang, another sad tale. Wenbin didn't elaborate much, just patted him encouragingly. Yichao had been an excellent student who could have easily gone to university, but like many boys of that era, he idolized military service and enlisted. With his good physical condition, he was assigned to Tibet, interrupting his education. Mr. He couldn't control him and let him go.
The hardships of serving in Tibet weren't for ordinary people. Years of living on the snowy plateau had built his strong physique and exposed him to many incredible things. Mysterious Tibet truly wasn't something the average person could understand. Once he started talking, Yichao shared with Wenbin many strange encounters from his time in Tibet.
Wenbin knew little about Tibet, especially Tibetan Buddhism, and listened with great interest. When Yichao was discharged, being a Tibet veteran, he could have become a civil servant, but due to Mr. He's connections, he was placed in an archaeological team instead. Fortunately, Mr. He was an expert who personally trained him for two years, gradually making him proficient. With his robust health, he was often sent to lead expeditions in harsh conditions.
Before they knew it, dawn had broken. Looking at the extinguished campfire, the two men exchanged smiles, feeling like old friends who had met too late in life. They prepared morning food and woke the others. If Mount Qingcheng's air was good, this place was filled with the essence of heaven and earth. The group breathed in the mountain air and immediately felt refreshed, their fatigue from the previous night vanishing. Professor Wang stretched and twisted his neck as he walked to the edge of the mountain to exercise, a habit he'd had for years.
Suddenly, he shouted: "My God, look at this!"
The small village they had seen in the moonlight last night was gone, replaced by churning clouds and mist. It was as if they were standing in the clouds themselves. In the distance, a tall mountain was faintly visible, reaching straight into the sky. Yiran clapped her hands and exclaimed: "Wow, this is literally paradise on earth! It's so beautiful!"
Professor Wang looked at Wenbin and said, "The weather has been strange lately. There wasn't any rain last night, so how could there be such thick fog here?"
Wenbin was also stunned by the scene before him. After a long pause, he murmured, "Gathering the spiritual essence of heaven and earth, enjoying the quintessence of the sun and moon, riding the clouds, commanding flying dragons, not eating the five grains, breathing wind and drinking dew... I never expected that beyond Kunlun Mountain, the Three Divine Mountains, and the Greater and Lesser Fangzhu Mountains, there would be such a marvelous place in the world. I wonder which immortal discovered such a celestial grotto..."
Chinese Words/Phrases in Chapter 10 Qingcheng
Character Names and Titles
- Zha Wenbin (查文斌) - Main character, a Daoist practitioner
- Leng Yiran (冷怡然) - Daughter of Director Leng, nicknamed "little witch"
- He Yichao (何毅超) - Son of Mr. He, friend of Leng Yiran
- Professor Wang (老王) - Leader of the archaeological survey team
- Director Leng Jihong (冷季宏) - Leng Yiran's father, head of the Provincial Archaeological Research Institute
- Zhuo Yugui (卓玉贵) - Owner of the farmhouse inn
- Zhuo Xiong (卓雄) - Zhuo Yugui's son, former military man nicknamed "the blind one"
- Zhuo Lian (卓莲) - Zhuo Yugui's daughter who disappeared
- Mr. He (何老) - Yichao's father, an archaeological expert
- Madam Wang (王夫人) - He Yichao's mother
Locations
- Mount Qingcheng (青城山) - Famous Daoist sacred mountain in Sichuan
- Jianfu Palace (建福宫) - Temple on Mount Qingcheng
- Laoxiao Top (老霄顶) - The main peak of Mount Qingcheng
- Zhangre Peak (丈人峰) - A peak on Mount Qingcheng
- Ziping Settlement (紫坪镇) - Small town at the foot of Mount Qingcheng
- Mount Qifeng (蛴蜂山) - Mysterious mountain mentioned by Old Zhuo
- Kunlun Mountain (昆仑山) - Legendary mountain in Daoist cosmology
- Three Divine Mountains (三神山) - Legendary islands in the eastern sea
- Greater and Lesser Fangzhu Mountains (大小方壶山) - Mythical mountains
Daoist Practitioners and Sects
- Daoist (道士) - Practitioner of Daoism
- Celestial Master Zhang (张天师) - Founder of a major Daoist sect
- Three Pure Ones (三清) - The three highest deities in Daoism
- Celestial Master's Cave (天师洞) - Sacred cave on Mount Qingcheng
- Lao Jun Pavilion (老君阁) - Temple dedicated to Lao Tzu
Divination Tools and Objects
- Divination slips (解签) - Fortune-telling tools used in temples
- Jade thumb ring (玉扳指) - Decorative ring worn on the thumb
Ritual Practices and Techniques
- Immortal Daoist spirit (仙风道骨) - A term describing the ethereal and spiritually enlightened demeanor of a Daoist adept
- Big Dipper formation (北斗阵) - Protective formation set up by Wenbin
Cultural and Historical References
- Feng shui (风水) - Chinese geomancy system
- Thirty-six celestial grottoes (三十六洞天) - Sacred sites in Daoist cosmology
- Thirty-six heavens (三十六重天) - Cosmological structure in Daoism
- Five Pure Heavens (五清天) - High levels of heaven in Daoist cosmology
- Great Canopy Heaven (大罗天) - The highest heaven in Daoism
- Cultural Revolution (文革) - Period of sociopolitical upheaval in China (1966-1976)
Mythological Beings
- Little ghosts (小鬼) - Minor supernatural entities
- Qi snakes (蛴蛇/五步蛇) - Venomous snakes with mythical properties