Chapter 62: The Immortal Master of Jizhou?

Chapter 62: The Immortal Master of Jizhou?

Zhang Sanlu was utterly astonished and couldn’t help but ask, “What spell did you use, my friend? Why do these pursuers seem blind to us?”

The middle-aged Daoist chuckled and replied, “Just a little illusion to cloud their sight, nothing worth mentioning. But you, young friend, seem to carry quite a few secrets yourself!”

Zhang Sanlu felt a chill in his heart and did not respond, only asking, “May I ask how I should address you?”

“Haha, names are but symbols. If you wish to call me Daoist brother, that’s fine. Follow the young acolyte’s lead and call me Immortal Master if you prefer, or simply address me by my Daoist name.”

Zhang Sanlu quickly said, “I wouldn’t dare presume so much. Your kindness is beyond words; I hope to repay you generously. Daoist brother, let us part ways here.” He patted his chest with his fist, turned, and prepared to head in the opposite direction of the main road.

“Wait a moment!”

Zhang Sanlu turned back, puzzled. “Is there something else, Daoist brother?”

Zhang Zhidao waved his hand. “Since the authorities are searching for you with such fervor, they must have your likeness and will soon plaster your portrait everywhere. You and the young girl are both easily recognized; you’ll soon find it impossible to move freely. Alone, you might manage, but…”

Zhang Sanlu considered this and realized the truth of it. Neither of them had anywhere to go; he could fend for himself, but what about Huiniang?

Seeing Zhang Sanlu lost in thought, Zhang Zhidao paused before explaining further, “I am currently wandering the lands. Why not travel with me for a while? We can look out for each other. This is the border of three provinces; once we cross it, whether north or south, the world is vast and you’ll surely find a place.”

The young acolyte, barely ten, suddenly complained, “Master, we have things to do—why drag along these two burdens?”

“Chang Hui! Mind your manners!”

The acolyte, Chang Hui, was scolded by his master but remained disgruntled, stomping over to the roadside and venting his anger at the bushes.

“My apologies, young friend. This disciple has been with me since childhood, mischievous and stubborn, and I’ve spoiled him, making him arrogant. I’ll be sure to discipline him more strictly in the future.”

Zhang Sanlu would never take offense at a child, especially just after being rescued and still in need of assistance. He hurriedly waved his hand, “No need, no need, Daoist brother, you’re too severe.”

After exchanging a few polite words, Zhang Sanlu, mindful of their safety, decided to follow Zhang Zhidao and his disciple.

At first, Zhang Sanlu thought Zhang Zhidao and Chang Hui wandered leisurely on foot, and it would take half a year to cross a province. Yet, as they walked, their pace quickened until Zhang Sanlu was struggling to keep up, panting and nearly running.

Zhang Zhidao, seeing his difficulty, slapped his forehead as if suddenly remembering something. “My fault, my fault—I forgot.”

He stopped, drew a brush from Chang Hui’s bundle, took two sheets of yellow paper from his robe, dipped some cinnabar, and began to draw characters in swift, flowing strokes.

Within moments, the talismans were ready, and he handed them to Zhang Sanlu. “Young friend, these are called ‘Swift Step’ talismans. Stick them to both calves, and you’ll walk as if flying. But let me warn you—after a long run, you’ll still tire as usual. Don’t suspect the talisman of cheating you, thinking it drains your true energy. Haha!”

“You jest, Daoist brother.” Zhang Sanlu was a bit embarrassed, realizing his own thoughts had been noticed, as he took the talismans.

He affixed the talismans to his calves and immediately felt light-footed, as if the wind carried him along. His body seemed buoyant, and he thought to himself that this was surely the genuine power of a proper sect’s talisman.

Carrying Huiniang on his back, Zhang Sanlu journeyed with Zhang Zhidao and his disciple, sometimes pausing along the way. Huiniang awakened several times during their travels, and Zhang Zhidao tended to her each time.

So they traveled, stopping and starting, for most of the day. Though he had no idea where they were, they had surely left the county behind.

By dusk, after crossing a small mountain, they saw a distant village.

It was the time when cooking smoke drifted through the air, and Huiniang’s stomach grumbled right on cue.

Zhang Zhidao smiled gently. “It’s late, and there’s a village ahead. Let’s rest here for the night and offer blessings to the villagers.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

As the last light faded from the sky, the four travelers arrived at the secluded village at the foot of the mountain. The houses, bathed in the glow of sunset and cooking smoke, seemed almost idyllic.

As they approached the village, they could hear the bark of dogs and the clucking of chickens. A few children played in front of their homes, but seeing strangers arrive, they quickly ran inside, peeking out from behind battered gates.

Just then, a villager who looked to have just returned from the fields walked up, noting their varied attire and asked, “Are you Daoists? What brings you to our village?”

Chang Hui replied, “Today is your good fortune. The Immortal Master Zhang of Jizhou has arrived and will bless the villagers. Go fetch the village chief and elders for an audience!”

Zhang Sanlu expected confusion and hesitation, but the villager, though rustic in appearance, first stared blankly and then, without looking back, dashed into the village, shouting at the top of his lungs, “The Immortal Master is here! The Immortal Master is here! Wife, come out!”

Soon, families poured out from their courtyards. It seemed the villagers already knew Zhang Zhidao’s reputation, for they hurried to the village entrance, faces filled with reverence and awe.

Zhang Sanlu was astonished—Zhang Zhidao’s name was renowned throughout Jizhou, even in such a remote village. If he hadn’t been so destitute, he might have suspected a staged performance to deceive him.

Yet greater surprises awaited.

Shortly after, the chief arrived, dressed in plain but neat clothes, accompanied by several village elders. Before they spoke, they knelt and saluted, and the villagers crowded behind them, bowing as one.

“Village chief Li Wang, with local elders and villagers, greet the Immortal Master.”

Zhang Zhidao waved his robe sleeve lightly. “No need for such ceremony, please rise.”

Only then did the chief and villagers stand. The chief, a thin elderly man, spoke with barely contained excitement. “Immortal Master, to think you would grace our Li Family Hamlet! We are truly blessed. The journey must have been arduous!”

Zhang Zhidao smiled gently. “You are too kind. Dispensing Daoist teachings and helping others is our duty.”

The elders nodded, their eyes full of gratitude and excitement. The chief and elders warmly invited Zhang Zhidao and his party into the village, promising a generous meal to honor their distinguished guest.

“Immortal Master, please honor us by resting in our humble village tonight. Though our food is simple, it comes from our hearts. Please accept it.”

Zhang Sanlu, following Zhang Zhidao, looked at the villagers—so enthusiastic, even fanatical—and felt a complex mix of emotions. Glancing at Chang Hui, he saw that the young acolyte was entirely accustomed to such scenes, standing proud and haughty, as though he himself were an Immortal Master.