Chapter Forty-Nine: The Centennial Birthday Banquet Shakes the World (Part Three)

Two days passed, and it was now the eighth day of the fourth month.

Zhang Sanfeng thought to himself that tomorrow would mark his hundredth birthday, and his disciples would surely make a great celebration of it. Yet, though Yu Daiyan was crippled, Zhang Cuishan remained missing, and his youngest disciple Yuanye had been wandering the martial world for years, seemingly plotting something of great importance and not having returned for three years, there was an inevitable sense of incompleteness amidst this joy.

Still, to have reached a hundred years of age was a rare blessing in itself, and the profound mysteries of the Taiji Art, which he had studied in seclusion, were now clear to him. From this day forth, the Wudang Sect would surely shine throughout the martial world, no less than the Shaolin skills brought east by Bodhidharma from India. That morning, he emerged from his closed meditation.

With a clear whistle, Zhang Sanfeng merely flicked his sleeve, and the double wooden doors swung open with a creak.

The first person he saw was none other than Zhang Cuishan, whom he had longed for these ten years.

Standing at Zhang Cuishan’s side was a young man of imposing stature, his face wreathed in smiles. Though his features had changed somewhat, those silver-white eyes were unmistakable.

He rubbed his eyes, half-believing he was mistaken. By then, Zhang Cuishan had already thrown himself into his arms, choked with emotion, crying out, “Master!” In the rush of feelings, he even forgot to kneel.

Song Yuanqiao and the other five disciples cried out in unison, “Congratulations, Master! Both Fifth Brother and Eighth Brother have returned together!”

Though Zhang Sanfeng had lived a hundred years and cultivated for more than eighty, his heart as clear as a mirror, untouched by worldly matters, the bond with his eight disciples was as deep as that of father and sons. To see Zhang Cuishan before him, he could not help but hold him tightly, tears of joy streaming down his face.

“You little rascal, you finally found your way back,” he said, pulling Yuanye into his embrace as well.

The brothers attended to their master, helping him wash, change, and freshen up. Zhang Cuishan did not dare speak of the matter concerning Xie Xun at such a time, lest he disturb his master’s centennial celebration, so he spoke only of the strange wonders of Ice and Fire Island.

When Zhang Sanfeng heard he had taken a wife, he was overjoyed. “Where is she? Bring her to see me at once.”

Zhang Cuishan knelt on both knees. “Master, your disciple was bold. When I married, I did not inform you.”

Stroking his beard, Zhang Sanfeng laughed, “You were stranded on Ice and Fire Island for ten years, were you supposed to wait all that time to ask my permission? Ridiculous! Get up, there’s no need for apologies. Since when have my disciples been so pedantic?”

Zhang Cuishan remained kneeling. “But my wife's background is… questionable. She is the daughter of Chief Yin of the Heavenly Eagle Cult.”

Zhang Sanfeng only smiled. “And what of it? As long as her character is good, that’s all that matters. Even if she were lacking, would she not be influenced for the better after living on our mountain? What difference does it make if she’s from the Heavenly Eagle Cult? Cuishan, the greatest fault is a narrow mind. Never look down on others simply because you consider yourself from a noble sect. Righteous and evil are not easily distinguished; if a so-called righteous disciple harbors ill-intent, he is no better than a villain. If a member of the demonic sect aspires to virtue, he is a true gentleman.”

Zhang Cuishan was overjoyed. To think that the worry that had burdened him for ten years could be swept away with just a few words from his master, he stood up with a broad smile.

At that moment, Zhang Sanfeng turned to Yuanye with a laugh, “And you, my little disciple, where is your wife? When will you bring her to meet your master?”

Yuanye’s expression changed, as if recalling some painful memories. He forced a smile, “Master, I am still young and not suited for marriage. Even Eldest Brother did not marry until well into his twenties, and except for Fifth Brother, none of my brothers are married yet. How would I dare to outpace them?”

His words drew angry glares from his brothers. Were it not for their master’s presence, a scuffle might have broken out then and there.

Zhang Sanfeng slapped him lightly on the head and laughed, “You cheeky monkey, stop making excuses with empty words. Your brothers may be fooled, but I am not. You have already attained the Innate Realm, your martial intent is harmonious, your entire being without flaw. Marriage and children will not hinder your cultivation any longer.”

“What?”

“Innate Realm?”

“Eighth Brother, you broke through without a word?”

“Yes,” Yuanye replied. “I had a few fortunate encounters these years. Just last month, I fought a great battle at Shaolin with three elder monks—Duo’e, Duojie, and Duonan—and by luck, broke through.”

“Eighth Brother, I’m cutting you off! How could you have such adventures and not bring me along? You’ve entered the Innate Realm, while I’ve only just reached the First-Class level. I can’t show my face!” Mo Shenggu pointed at him, crying out in mock anguish.

Seeing his brother playing the scoundrel again, Yuanye looked helpless. “Fine, here you go. Didn’t you say you wanted to learn Xiaofan’s divine skill? This is it.” With that, he pulled a small booklet from his robe and tossed it over.

Mo Shenggu snatched it up, eyes gleaming with delight. “Eighth Brother, I knew you were the most loyal of us all!”

Watching their banter, Zhang Sanfeng stroked his beard and smiled. “My little disciple, come now, tell me where you’ve been these past years.”

In truth, Zhang Sanfeng had heard much of Yuanye’s escapades through rumors. Their travels were never secret; indeed, wherever they went, the martial world was thrown into uproar, tales spreading far and wide.

Still, he wished to hear these adventures recounted by the boy who had grown up at his side.

Yuanye was about to speak when Mo Shenggu suddenly shouted, “What… what kind of devilish art is this? It actually requires—?”

At that moment, Mo Shenggu was holding the booklet, his face flushed, sweat pouring down, his body trembling slightly.

Everyone was astonished. Song Yuanqiao grabbed the booklet, knowing that if Yuanye had given it openly, there was nothing secret about it.

But after reading a few lines, Song Yuanqiao too turned red, though his deeper cultivation allowed him to remain composed.

Zhang Songxi, seeing the reaction, took the booklet. “To master this skill, one must wield the knife upon oneself? How can there be such a heretical art!” He had only glanced at it before crying out in shock.

After all the brothers had read it, the booklet finally made its way to Zhang Sanfeng. He studied it for a long moment before finally exclaiming, “What a marvelous technique! The current methods of cultivating qi are nothing more than mental focus and guided breathing, drawing from the vastness of the void, separating the pure from the impure. In the end, the world can reverse its flow, and so too can man transform Yin and Yang. But this path is not to be lightly passed on.”

He glanced at his disciples. “The original author did not intend everyone to emasculate themselves. In truth, it isn’t necessary. A person should maintain an ordinary heart; do not act rashly. Without lascivious thoughts, the fire of desire will not consume you. That is the first principle.”

He sighed. “But such a skill, as elusive as a dream and as tempting as power itself, possesses a terrible allure. How could ordinary people remain unmoved? That is likely why the author left the doctrine of self-castration.”

“Yes, this divine art was seized from a eunuch in the Yuan imperial palace, who had reached the Postnatal Realm. His speed was ghostly—far more frightening than the Green Winged Bat King, Wei Yixiao.”

“That battle was a narrow victory for me. Later, I realized that Xiaofan’s body was naturally suited for it, so I taught him the skill.”

Though Yuanye spoke lightly, Song Yuanqiao and the others could imagine the peril he had faced: the imperial palace teeming with masters, surrounded by ten thousand soldiers, where a single misstep meant certain death.

Seeing their expressions, Yuanye no longer wished to dwell on the subject. With a grin, he said, “Seventh Brother, do you still want to learn it? It’s just a couple of ounces of flesh—shut your eyes and grit your teeth, and it’s over.”

“Go to hell! I still want to marry someday—I’m not learning your monstrous technique,” Mo Shenggu retorted.

Everyone broke into laughter. Yuanye then produced several more books from his robe and handed them to Zhang Sanfeng. “Master, take a look at these.”

Zhang Sanfeng received them and saw four bold characters on the cover: “Nine Yang Manual.”

“My disciple, so this is the divine skill! Where did you find it?” Zhang Sanfeng’s expression changed, his voice trembling.

All the Wudang disciples were curious—what had their eighth brother brought that so astonished their master?

When Yuanye explained that he had retrieved the Nine Yang Manual from the belly of a white ape in a secluded valley of Kunlun in the Western Regions, realization dawned on Zhang Sanfeng.

“So that’s what became of it! Years ago, He Zudao said ‘the true scripture lies within the oil,’ and so it was—the manual wrapped in oilskin, hidden by Xiaoxiangzi and Yixixi in the white ape’s belly!” Zhang Sanfeng sighed.

His disciples had always assumed he had come from Shaolin before founding Wudang, but knew nothing of the Nine Yang Manual.

Noticing their confusion, Zhang Sanfeng recounted in detail the events at Shaolin, when the Three Sages of Kunlun came to deliver a message, which eventually led to a challenge between them and Shaolin.

After hearing his tale, the disciples were all indignant. Mo Shenggu even cursed the Shaolin monks for their arrogance and disregard for propriety.

Yuanye’s purpose in bringing forth these manuals was, of course, to hope his master would further perfect Wudang’s martial arts, as he would require much aid from his fellow Wudang members in the tasks to come.