31: Chapter 31 When Wu First Met
The flying vessel traveled southwest. Three days later, it entered the Jing-Chu region.
Lu Mingyuan rested and regulated his breathing within the cabin. The vital essence consumed during the battle at Black Water Marsh had been largely replenished by Medicinal Pills, but the strain on his spirit required time for gentle recuperation. He took out that dark golden 'Ultimate Tranquility Talisman' and lightly touched the talisman paper with his fingertip, still able to sense the extreme tranquility contained within—a Realm approaching 'nothingness'. Had it not been a life-and-death moment, he would have found it extremely difficult to draw a second one.
"Fellow Daoist Lu, Wudang Mountain lies ahead," Zhang Qingyuan's voice came from outside the cabin.
Lu Mingyuan stored the talisman, rose, and stepped out of the cabin. In the faint morning light, a vast expanse of mountain shadows stretched between heaven and earth. Seventy-two peaks pointed skyward like swords, twenty-four streams wound around its waist like ribbons. Amid the churning sea of clouds, the golden summit was faintly visible. Unlike the ethereal beauty of Longhu Mountain, Wudang Mountain appeared more majestic and weighty, its topography resembling a coiled dragon and a crouching tiger, possessing an Aura that seemed to suppress all directions.
"What a magnificent site for the True Martial Dao," Lu Mingyuan sighed softly.
The flying vessel descended onto the square before the Welcome Grace Palace. Several Daoist priests in black robes were already waiting. The leader appeared to be around forty, with a resolute face, eyes sharp as lightning, and a stature as straight as a pine tree—though clad only in simple Daoist robes, he gave the impression of being able to repel a thousand troops.
"Fellow Daoists from Longhu Mountain, you have traveled far and endured hardships," the Daoist priest said, clasping his fists in salute, his voice resonant like a great bell. "This humble Daoist is Zhao Shouzhen, Hall Master of the Wudang Management Hall."
Lin Qingxuan returned the courtesy: "We impose on your esteemed sect. By order of Sect Master Yu Shu, we have come to escort Fellow Daoist Lu Mingyuan for his study and inquiry into the Dao."
Zhao Shouzhen's gaze fell upon Lu Mingyuan. After scrutinizing him for a moment, he nodded and said, "The Sect Master Immortal Master is already aware. Fellow Daoist Lu, please follow me. Zhenwu Hall requests your presence."
Lu Mingyuan bid farewell to Lin Qingxuan, Zhang Qingyuan, and the others, then followed Zhao Shouzhen up the stone steps.
The mountain paths of Wudang Mountain are renowned for their 'peril'. The stone steps, carved into the mountainside, were wide enough for only two people to walk abreast, with sheer cliffs on one side and deep chasms on the other. Clouds and mist flowed beneath their feet, and occasionally, eagles circled in the valleys. Yet Zhao Shouzhen strode as if flying, forcing Lu Mingyuan to circulate his spiritual power with full effort to keep up.
"Fellow Daoist Lu comes from Longhu Mountain. Are you accustomed to the mountain paths of our Wudang?" Zhao Shouzhen asked without turning his head.
"Though the mountain path is perilous, walking it strengthens one's resolve," Lu Mingyuan replied.
"Good," Zhao Shouzhen said, slowing his pace slightly. "In our Wudang cultivation, the foremost emphasis is on 'keeping one's feet firmly on the ground'. Rely not on external aids, seek not shortcuts. Step by step, stair by stair, only then can one understand the height of the mountain and the length of the road, and realize the insignificance of oneself."
These words carried deeper meaning. Lu Mingyuan discerned the underlying message: it was a reminder that the Dao of Wudang, unlike the external seeking of Longhu Mountain's talisman methods, focused on tempering the self.
After walking for about half an hour, they arrived before Zixiao Palace. The terrain here was slightly flatter. The palace hall was majestic, and the three characters 'Zixiao Palace' on the plaque were written with bold, silvery strokes, faint currents of Sword Qi swirling within. On the square before the hall, several dozen Disciples were practicing sword forms. Their movements were uniform, the sword winds howling, swirling fallen leaves into chaos.
"Halt," Zhao Shouzhen raised his hand.
The Disciples sheathed their swords and stood at attention, their gazes turning in unison towards them.
"This is Fellow Daoist Lu Mingyuan from Zhongnan Mountain. He will be studying at our Wudang for three months," Zhao Shouzhen announced clearly. "According to the rules, newcomers must pass 'Three Trials'. Today, the first trial—'Sword Courage Trial'."
He turned to Lu Mingyuan: "This trial is simple. You will stand in the center of the square and receive attacks from ten of our Wudang third-generation Disciples taking turns. Do not counterattack, only evade or parry. If you do not retreat beyond the square's boundary or shed blood within the time it takes for one stick of incense to burn, you pass."
Lu Mingyuan's heart tightened. Wudang's third-generation Disciples were at least at the Foundation Establishment Realm and skilled in swordsmanship. Ten taking turns seemed simple, but in reality, it tested eyesight, movement techniques, endurance, and, most importantly, courage—facing continuous sword onslaughts without retreating required the 'sword courage' to advance even against ten thousand.
"This Junior obeys," he said, walking to the center of the square. He retrieved the green bamboo staff gifted by Xuanweizi from his qiankun bag—though not a weapon, its resilient texture could serve for temporary parrying.
Zhao Shouzhen lit a stick of incense and placed it in an incense burner: "Begin."
The first Disciple stepped forward. Around twenty years old, at the Early Stage of Foundation Establishment, he held a standard iron sword. He saluted with his sword: "Wudang third-generation Disciple Chen Song. I request your instruction."
As his words fell, the sword arrived.
This thrust aimed straight for the center, fast and steady, without any flourish. Lu Mingyuan sidestepped to avoid it, his bamboo staff slanting to tap the sword's body, intending to deflect its momentum. Unexpectedly, the sword was as stable as if rooted, deviating only slightly before immediately shifting from a thrust to a slash, sweeping horizontally towards his waist.
Lu Mingyuan retreated half a step, pressing his bamboo staff downward. Sword and staff met with a dull thud. He felt a slight numbness in his tiger's mouth—though the opponent's spiritual power was not as deep as his own, the Sword Qi was condensed and solid. The force transmitted through the bamboo staff carried the weight of a thousand jun.
"Wudang sword techniques emphasize 'substance' over 'cleverness'," Lu Mingyuan realized inwardly. This was completely different from the elegant and agile sword techniques he had seen at Longhu Mountain. Each strike was like a mountain peak pressing down, using momentum to overcome cleverness.
After three exchanges, Chen Song sheathed his sword and stepped back. The second Disciple immediately took his place, his sword technique changing again, shifting from steadiness to continuous flow, like a great river, endless and surging.
Lu Mingyuan focused on responding. He possessed the Mind-Cultivation Technique of the Classic of Purity and Tranquility, granting him keen perception; his Foundation Establishment in martial arts also made his movements agile. Initially somewhat awkward, as he gradually found his rhythm, he was actually able to weave through gaps in the sword net. His bamboo staff tapped, deflected, guided, and blocked, resolving attacks each time at the last possible moment.
However, ten people taking turns was extremely taxing. By the time the sixth Disciple stepped forward, sweat beaded on Lu Mingyuan's forehead, and his breath became slightly ragged. The Disciple spotted the opening, his sword momentum suddenly accelerating, transforming into seven sword shadows aimed at major acupoints across his body.
At this critical moment, Lu Mingyuan's mind stirred. The Following Heart-Calming Talisman in his bosom grew slightly warm. A gentle, clear, and ethereal energy flowed throughout his body, dispelling all anxiety and restoring clarity to his mind. In his eyes, the trajectories of those seven sword shadows became clearly visible—
Three on the left were feints, two on the right were real, and the two in the center were decoys.
The bamboo staff pointed unerringly towards the second sword shadow on the right.
*Ding!*
The sword shadow dissipated, revealing the true sword, struck squarely on its spine by the bamboo staff. The Disciple grunted, retreating three steps in succession, his face full of astonishment.
"Good eyesight," Zhao Shouzhen, observing from the side, gave a slight nod.
For the subsequent four Disciples, Lu Mingyuan fought with increasing stability. By the time the tenth Disciple stepped forward, the incense had burned to its end. The final Disciple was at the Middle Stage of Foundation Establishment. Even before his sword was drawn, his Aura was like an impending mountain storm.
He slowly drew his sword. The blade was simple and unadorned, without shine or luster. But as the sword left its sheath, the air in the entire square seemed to solidify.
"This sword is named 'Suppressing the Mountain'," the Disciple said solemnly. "I will only execute one strike. If Fellow Daoist Lu can withstand it, you pass the trial."
Lu Mingyuan took a deep breath, holding the bamboo staff horizontally before his chest: "Please."
The Disciple stepped forward, raised his sword, and brought it down in a chop.
The motion was extremely simple, like a woodcutter splitting firewood. But at the instant the sword fell, Lu Mingyuan felt the space around him lock, leaving no room for evasion. That strike carried the weight of mountains and the thickness of the earth, seemingly beyond human ability to block.
If it cannot be blocked, then do not block.
In that flash of lightning, the mental state in which he had drawn the 'Ultimate Tranquility Talisman' at Black Water Marsh surfaced in Lu Mingyuan's mind—absolute stillness, the return of all things to silence. He abandoned all thoughts of resistance, sinking his mind into the Realm of 'Purity, Tranquility, and Non-action'.
The bamboo staff lifted gently, not to block, but to 'receive'.
Sword and staff met. There was no great roar, no blast of energy. The vast Sword Qi momentum of the Suppressing the Mountain sword vanished as if a clay ox had entered the sea. The Disciple felt as if he had struck into a Void Realm, finding no point of resistance. The recoil force sent him staggering backward, his face filled with disbelief.
The incense burned out.
Zhao Shouzhen clapped three times: "Trial passed."
The Disciples sheathed their swords. The looks they now cast towards Lu Mingyuan held respect. Wudang valued genuine skill, and his performance during that stick of incense had earned preliminary recognition.
"Fellow Daoist Lu, please go to the guest quarters to rest first," Zhao Shouzhen said. "Tomorrow at Chen hour (7-9 AM), before Zixiao Hall, you will face the second trial."
The guest quarters were located west of Zixiao Palace, simple and clean. After washing up, Lu Mingyuan sat cross-legged on the bed, reviewing the day's battle.
Wudang sword techniques had profoundly shocked him. Longhu Mountain's talisman methods emphasized 'Concept', using talismans to carry the Dao, with endless variations. Wudang sword techniques, however, emphasized 'Momentum', each move and stance possessing the weight of mountains and the might of thunder. These were two completely different 'Daos'.
"Entering the Dao through martial arts..." he murmured to himself. "Martial Dao, martial is the technique, Dao is the foundation. Wudang's 'Dao' is hidden within that sense of weightiness."
He took out the essentials of basic talismans and that volume of miscellaneous discourse on heart talismans. What he learned at Longhu Mountain was using talismans to carry Concepts; what he witnessed today was using swords to manifest Momentum. If he could also infuse 'Momentum' into talismans...
A notion sprouted, though it was not yet clear.
The sound of a bell came from outside the window, deep and prolonged, ringing eighty-one times. It was Wudang's evening bell, said to ring daily without fail, for six hundred years.
Lu Mingyuan listened quietly to the bell's toll. His mental state gradually became as still as an ancient well without ripples. The day's fatigue, insights, and thoughts all settled within the sound of the bell.
The second trial tomorrow—he wondered what test it would be.
He closed his eyes and began his daily compulsory practice of the Classic of Purity and Tranquility. As the scripture flowed through his mind, the Concept of that 'Suppressing the Mountain' strike he witnessed during the day subtly resonated with a line from the scripture: 'Heaviness is the root of lightness; stillness is the master of agitation.'
His first day at Wudang had already allowed him to see another aspect of the 'Dao'.