Chapter 98: Standing in the Great Way Beneath the Yellow Sky 2

Chapter 98: Standing on the Great Way, Raising the Yellow Heaven 2

Recalling the scene he had witnessed earlier of Zhang Zhidao using talisman water to heal the sick, those wounded villagers gradually recovering after drinking it, and even the villager who had been mad for years regaining his clarity of mind—Zhang Sanlu had once been shocked and curious about these miraculous feats of cultivation, but he had never once connected them to the name Zhang Jiao.

Earlier, he had asked some of the villagers what place this was, but being from remote mountain hamlets, they could give only vague answers. At most, they mentioned the names of provinces, commanderies, or counties.

But he had never imagined that he would find himself in a history that truly existed—the Eastern Han Dynasty!!!

"What year is it now?!" Zhang Sanlu suddenly demanded urgently of Zhang Zhidao.

Zhang Zhidao pondered for a moment, then said, "This year is the sixth year of Guanghe of the Great Han."

The sixth year of Guanghe? That was an Eastern Han reign year. What did it correspond to in the Western calendar? Zhang Sanlu could only curse himself for being a science student with no grasp of chronological conversions. All he knew was that in the year 184 AD, after years of successive natural disasters and the people having no means to survive, the Yellow Turbans had officially risen in rebellion in Julu Commandery!

And now, all the mysteries seemed to have unraveled.

Zhang Sanlu felt a surge of heat blazing in his chest, his heart pounding as if it might leap out of his ribcage. Gazing into the distance at Zhang Jiao, his eyes held both reverence and bewilderment.

He knew that the Daoist standing not far away was about to unleash a cataclysm upon this age—a tidal wave of upheaval!

Corpses of the starved littered the fields, the dead lay strewn about, the common folk had not enough to eat, yet the court turned a blind eye. This realm was gravely ill!

The people here could not fill their bellies. They were skin and bone, their complexions sallow, their clothes in tatters. Those stricken by plague had neither clothing nor medicine. Festering wounds, bodies covered in pus and blood—that was the norm. Those gravely ill were barely recognizable as human. The dead were wrapped in a thin straw mat and cast out into the wilderness; that already counted as a proper burial.

"A year of great famine, men eat men." These six short words spoke of countless tears, blood, and wronged souls.

Those common folk tormented by plague, by oppressive taxes, by powerful clans and cruel officials, stoked the flames within their hearts, waiting only for a spark—and then the whole realm would rise as one!!!

Zhang Sanlu knew that from this day forward, a blazing fire would burn through the heavens and soon sweep across all thirteen provinces of the late Han!!!

The Daoist revered as the "Great Worthy Teacher" would soon raise the banner of revolt, and the winds of change would sweep the realm. All provinces would follow suit, and those who answered the call would number in the millions.

In Zhang Sanlu's eyes, the man's figure loomed especially tall. Beneath the scorching golden crow, his shadow stretched forth as if it would cover the very heavens and earth.

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As the sky began to darken, most of these famine refugees from other lands had finally been settled.

Zhang Sanlu sat waiting in the side hall, his mood like the sinking twilight—both anxious and full of anticipation. He was finally about to meet the legendary Great Worthy Teacher—Zhang Jiao. An indescribable excitement surged within him, refusing to subside. Beside him, Zhang Zhidao made idle conversation about matters since they had parted.

Zheng Ji and Huiniang beside him were even more beside themselves with excitement, unable to sit still, having already run to the latrine several times.

After waiting a while longer, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching outside the hall. Zhang Zhidao stood up first and led the others out to greet the arrivals.

But those outside moved swiftly. Before the group had even stepped out of the hall, they saw a Daoist robed in ocher-yellow vestments, his hair bound up in a topknot, striding toward them, followed by two acolytes bearing nine-sectioned staffs.

His eyes shone like morning stars with brilliant light; his bearing was like a rainbow, his seated presence like a mountain. He walked with the stride of a dragon and the step of a tiger, his feet not disturbing the dust, his movement like a gentle breeze brushing past willows, like a swift gust that left no trace.

Who else could it be but the Great Worthy Teacher, Zhang Jiao!

"Greetings, Master!" Zhang Zhidao bowed in the Daoist ritual and said with reverence.

"Hmm." Zhang Jiao nodded slightly, swept his gaze over the others, and fixed his attention on Zhang Sanlu.

Zhang Zhidao hastily introduced him: "Master, this is the fellow Daoist Zhang Sanlu I mentioned to you and Mancheng. These two are his friends, Zheng Ji and Huiniang."

Zhang Sanlu forgot even to perform the Daoist salute and hurriedly bowed instead. Zheng Ji and Huiniang were even more flustered, nearly falling flat on their faces.

"Peace be with you—young friend Daoist and both young friends." Zhang Jiao returned a one-handed Daoist salute, while his other hand made an empty gesture of lifting, raising Zheng Ji and Huiniang up. Then he turned and dismissed the two acolytes.

Once host and guests were seated, Zhang Jiao looked at Zhang Sanlu, and a glimmer of surprise flashed through his eyes. His gaze was as piercing as a blazing torch, as if it could see straight through Zhang Sanlu into the depths of his heart, making him feel somewhat uneasy.

Since the master had not spoken, Zhang Zhidao did not feel it proper to chatter on. But sensing the awkward atmosphere, he was just about to open his mouth to break the ice when Zhang Jiao suddenly asked.

"You... have already beheaded the Upper Corpse, Peng Hou? And weathered the thunder tribulation?" Zhang Jiao's voice was low and forceful; every word struck like a hammer blow upon Zhang Sanlu's heart, stirring ripples upon ripples.

Zhang Sanlu was stunned. He had indeed felt that something about himself was different, but he had never considered that he had beheaded some Upper Corpse called Peng Hou, nor when he might have weathered a thunder tribulation. He scratched his head, his eyes full of confusion and bewilderment, at a loss for how to answer.

Seeing Zhang Sanlu's utterly lost expression, Zhang Zhidao quickly explained with both envy and admiration: "Within a cultivator's body dwell the 'Three Corpse Spirits,' which represent the three kinds of 'evil desires' within the human body. Hence the Three Corpses are also called the Three Corpse Worms, or the 'Three Pengs.' They include the Upper Corpse's three worms, the Middle Corpse's three worms, and the Lower Corpse's three worms. The Upper Corpse worm is named Peng Hou, and it dwells within the human head, making one dull and foolish, devoid of wisdom. When Peng Hou is in one's head, the person becomes slow-witted and idiotic; wisdom cannot be developed, and over time one becomes increasingly obtuse. The Middle Corpse worm is named Peng Zhi, often hidden within the human chest, causing vexation and delusion, preventing stillness of mind. When Peng Zhi is present, it makes one restless and beset by wandering thoughts and worries, making it very difficult to enter meditative absorption. The Lower Corpse worm is named Peng Jiao, dwelling in the human belly, making one crave the desires of men and women, of food and drink. When Peng Jiao is present, it makes one slothful and pleasure-seeking, indulging in fine food and carnal delights... As the saying goes, 'Slay the Three Corpses, and one attains true immortality!'"

Zhang Sanlu suddenly thought of how he had once cut off his own head in desperate pursuit of survival, and had then been struck by lightning in that other world—could it be that this was where it had manifested?!

After Zhang Zhidao finished his explanation, a smile curled at the corner of Zhang Jiao's mouth. He asked without mincing words: "Young friend Daoist, I have heard that with your aid, the matter of the ghost-possessed Bodhisattva of the Huazang Sect was seen through, and you successfully brought back the Bodhisattva's true image, saving the people of that region. Truly, your merit is paramount."

A delighted expression appeared on Zhang Zhidao's face.

Zhang Jiao suddenly continued: "Do you currently have a master?"

Zhang Sanlu was taken aback: "I have no master at present." In his heart, he thought that the deceased Tongxuan probably didn't count, right?

Zhang Zhidao was even more overjoyed. He understood what his master intended to do and stared at Zhang Sanlu with fervent eyes.

Sure enough, Zhang Jiao nodded at the answer and said: "Then, would you be willing to take me as your master, to learn the supreme method of slaying the Three Corpses, seeking immortality, and attaining true divinity?!"