Daoist Competition

Zhang Yan stepped forward with a smile and said, "Young lad, you look strong and robust. How have you ended up being bullied like this?"

The dark-skinned boy was initially stunned to see a stranger Daoist speaking to him, but seeing Zhang Yan’s friendly demeanor, he wasn’t afraid and retorted, "Third Son Wang and his gang played dirty, so many ganging up on me alone, of course, I couldn’t beat them."

Zhang Yan shook his head and said, "That’s not necessarily true. Numbers don’t always matter. Have you ever heard of formidable generals on the battlefield who can fight against a hundred, a thousand, or even ten thousand men?"

The dark-skinned boy had heard of these mythical and legendary stories and anecdotes from village scholars, and when Zhang Yan began talking about this, he immediately forgot his pain and shouted, "Yes, yes, I’ve heard. You can’t stump me, Sir. The village scholar said that among the founding heroes of our Wei Country, there was someone named Zuo Gongchang who had the courage to stand against ten thousand foes."

Zhang Yan chuckled and said, "It’s ’the courage to stand against ten thousand foes.’

"Yes, yes, ten thousand, ten thousand!" The boy rubbed the back of his head and smiled sheepishly.

Zhang Yan, seeing his naivety, didn’t bother to correct him, merely smiled slightly and said, "Now, tell me, do you want to learn this method?"

The boy paused in surprise, then suddenly jumped up, grabbed Zhang Yan’s sleeve, and shook it urgently, saying, "Master, teach me, Master, teach me."

Zhang Yan laughed and said, "Come closer."

The dark-skinned boy, eager, immediately leaned his head closer, and Zhang Yan whispered a few mantras into his ear, then patted the back of his head and said, "Off you go."

The boy shivered uncontrollably and absent-mindedly walked along the field path.

Zhang Yan watched his back with a smile and then walked lightly up the mountain.

Halfway up, he found a dilapidated Mountain God Temple, sat down on a cushion, and patiently waited.

When the dark-skinned boy got home, he couldn’t help but recall the mantra that the Daoist had taught him. It was very peculiar. He had never studied or read, but Zhang Yan had only said it once, yet he remembered it firmly, unable to forget. Moreover, its meaning was self-evident without needing to understand it deeply.

Following the mantra, he operated his Qi, and after a night, he jumped off his bed, feeling light and agile, with keen hearing and sharp eyesight and an inexhaustible amount of Qi power.

Overjoyed, he eagerly ran out to wreak some havoc on the Wang Family’s son,

On the way past a pond, he saw two water buffaloes blocking the path. With a sudden impulse, he ran up and twisted the horns, and with two cries, the buffaloes were pulled down to the ground, making him even more excited.

He didn’t get a mile away before he saw Third Son Wang with a group of boys shooting at sparrows with slingshots. He shouted and rushed up, without another word, to start fighting.

This time, he easily toppled over a dozen boys, and none of them were his match. Third Son Wang was pinned to the ground and beaten soundly.

But oddly, even though he hit hard, no one was injured, not even a scratch or bruise.

In these kinds of playful scuffles among children, there’s no real grudge. Afterward, Third Son Wang asked, "Song San, how did you learn these skills overnight?"

The dark-skinned boy, being straightforward and youthful, couldn’t hold his tongue. He boastfully recounted the encounter with Zhang Yan and the Dharma Transmission.

Third Son Wang secretly took note and instructed his long-term followers to find out the whereabouts of the Daoist from the previous day.

Zhang Yan meditated in the Mountain God Temple for two days. On the third day at noon, he suddenly heard footsteps approaching outside the door. Opening his eyes, he saw several young men in green clothes and hats rushing in, all covered in sweat and struggling to catch their breath. Behind them came a young master, whom he had met before. The ascent up the mountain had also left his face red and gasping for air.

Upon seeing Zhang Yan, Third Son Wang’s eyes lit up. He came forward and respectfully saluted, saying, "Greetings, Daoist."

Then he gestured, and his followers presented two trays: one holding a box of candied fruits, and the other containing a few rolls of red silk-wrapped Copper Coins, along with two privately minted silver ingots.

He sneaked a glance at Zhang Yan, then bowed deeply and said, "Please, Daoist, kindly accept these."

Zhang Yan glanced at them, smiled, and said, "You’re here to seek the Dharma technique."

Third Son Wang looked delighted, nodding repeatedly, "Exactly, exactly."

Zhang Yan nodded and said, "That’s easy. Come closer."

Third Son Wang quickly interjected, "Wait!"

He looked at Zhang Yan intently and said, "Daoist, I wish to ask if there is a long-lasting method here, not one that only lasts for two or three days."

The dark-skinned boy, thrilled for not even two days, found that the feeling of boundless strength faded away, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall the mantra from that day.

With scholars in the Wang Family, their insight far surpassed that of the dark-skinned boy. Third Son Wang pondered that the Daoist wouldn’t transmit skills without reason, and if there was a technique lasting several days, there could be one lasting months or years, even decades.

The more he thought about it, the more tempted he became, secretly despising Song San for his ignorance and missing the opportunity to meet a master. He consulted his family elders and after discovering Zhang Yan’s whereabouts, he came looking for him.

Zhang Yan oh-ed and said, "You want a method that prevents leakage of Qi."

"Yes, yes, within two days the energy leaks out. What’s the use of it then?"

Third Son Wang nodded eagerly, his emotions running high. Hearing the Daoist’s tone, it seemed there was indeed such a method. Wouldn’t that mean he wouldn’t need to study anymore? With these skills, he could join the Military Guard, and after defeating some Hu’er generals, perhaps he could even be granted title and honor, bringing glory to his ancestors.

Zhang Yan, after a brief contemplation, said, "That’s easy. Do you know the small Land Temple on the slope ten miles away?"

Third Son Wang, still perplexed, asked, "Land Temple?"

His long-term follower immediately came up and said, "Young Master, that’s the Bat King Temple."

Upon hearing "Bat King Temple," Third Son Wang couldn’t suppress a shiver.

That Bat King Temple was originally a Land Temple. In the early years of the current dynasty, the Early Xingyuan, it was said that a Daoist brought hundreds of young boys and girls there for refining rituals, claiming to be suppressing some Demonic Qi. The result was a bloody storm overnight, and everyone, including the Daoist, disappeared without a trace. Since then, no one dared to go there.

Even today, passersby still occasionally hear faint sounds of music from the temple at night, with rumors of female ghosts and demons lurking there, preying on humans and drinking their blood.

Third Son Wang, somewhat apprehensive, asked, "Why mention this Ghost Temple?"

Zhang Yan looked at them with a hint of a smile and said, "Starting today, whoever comes to the Bat King Temple at midnight, I will impart them the Dharma technique."

...

...(To be continued. If you enjoy this work, feel free to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote with recommendations or monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)