Chapter Seventy: The Daoist Nun's Dream Message

When I heard that voice, my heart trembled involuntarily. I hardly dared to respond, much less open the door and face him. Yes, it was Er Pang’s voice. I never expected, after he had slain my grandfather and Daoist Li, that he would come to my door himself.

What could he possibly want with me?

Madam Wang gestured for me to go, and Zhu Danian nodded as well, so I went to open the door. Er Pang stood there, still draped in his black robe. There were so many things I wanted to ask him; I even wanted to demand why he agreed to the Underworld’s order to execute my grandfather—at the very least, there should be a reason. Yet, as I stood before him, those words of accusation stuck in my throat and refused to come out. Instead, I said, “Come inside and talk.”

“No need, Lin Yi. I came only to deliver something to you,” he replied, his voice as cold as ever. I glanced at his expression, so unfamiliar I could scarcely believe he was the same Er Pang who once shared trousers with me.

He finished speaking and took out an object, handing it to me. When I looked, I saw it was my grandfather’s Mountain God Token.

I took the token, wanting to ask questions, but Er Pang had no intention of saying more. He turned and walked away into the depths of the night.

I looked down at the Mountain God Token in my hand and called after him, “Why did you come to give me the Mountain God Token?”

He stopped and turned back. “Lin Yi, don’t read too much into this. Your grandfather’s fate was seven taels and one coin; not just anyone could execute him, unless he agreed to let me do it. So, he set a condition—that I hand this Mountain God Token to you.”

“That’s it. I’ve done what I must. I’m leaving now.”

His words left my mind blank for a moment. I sat crouched on the threshold, leaning against the door, gripping my grandfather’s Mountain God Token tightly.

Madam Wang had heard our conversation from the courtyard, and she came over with Niu Dahuang. Niu Dahuang said, “How did Er Pang end up like this?”

“It was the River of Forgetfulness in the Lesser Underworld,” I replied.

“The River of Forgetfulness… So that’s it,” Niu Dahuang sighed.

The days that followed were bleak; everything was shrouded in the shadow of my grandfather’s passing.

On the third day, I returned to Old Jieling Village with Niu Dahuang and Madam Wang to build a memorial tomb for my grandfather. The Mistress of the Green Robes, her wounds somewhat healed, also left Dongwa Village and returned to Baiqing Temple.

She had always acted swiftly yet retained a celestial grace. But after this incident, as she departed, the expression on her face troubled me—nothing remained but hatred.

Madam Wang gave her many instructions; the Mistress of the Green Robes nodded in assent, but whether she truly took the words to heart, I could not tell.

My grandfather’s departure—the mastermind behind it all was hidden in the Underworld. No matter what, I must avenge him. I cannot do it now, but one day, I will flatten the Underworld, find the culprit, and avenge my grandfather.

After staying at Madam Wang’s house for a few days, I decided to return to the mountain with Niu Dahuang.

During these days, Niu Dahuang spoke much about the Way of Ghosts. I often asked him how I could become as powerful as Daoist Li and the Mistress of the Green Robes. Niu Dahuang said they each had their own methods; if I couldn’t find mine, all my effort would be in vain. He explained that he and my grandfather practiced the Ghost Way of refining essence into true energy, while Madam Wang followed the Quanzhen Way—also refining essence into true energy, but with countless subtle differences. I listened, lost in a fog, unable to grasp the basics. Madam Wang told me that to understand these things, one’s mind must be calm, or there would be no progress.

But with my grandfather’s death weighing on me, how could I be calm?

I worried that after the ancient altar incident, the Mistress of the Green Robes would be targeted for killing Qin Li, the son of the Temple Master. I hoped Madam Wang would come into the mountain with us, but she refused. She said her practice was meant for the mundane world, not the quiet of the mountains, and besides, many villagers needed her help.

She assured me not to worry for her safety. She had survived alone for years, often helping villagers with matters of yin and yang, offending plenty of underworld officials, but always finding ways to protect herself.

Leaving Dongwa Village and returning to the Mountain God Temple, I found that Weiyang’s injuries had mostly healed, and her hair—once white—had regained its color. Seeing Niu Dahuang and me return, Weiyang had already guessed most of what had happened.

She didn’t ask for details, understanding how deeply it affected me, knowing that more questions would only deepen my sorrow.

She simply told me to rest.

But my mind was consumed with vengeance for my grandfather. Once in the mountain, I threw myself into the search for my own method. The root of refining essence into true energy lies in transforming it, finding one's own yin and yang energies, circulating them, and evolving true energy. True energy is the source of all Daoist arts; without it, forcing the use of techniques would harm oneself, but with abundant true energy, even the simplest spells can wield immense power.

For instance, the Mistress of the Green Robes’ horsetail whisk—ordinary in most hands, but with strong true energy, it could slay men and ghosts alike.

Time passed swiftly. About half a month went by. Though I was beginning to find my own method, I could not transform true energy, and there was no real progress.

One night, I had a dream.

In the dream, I climbed the steps to Baiqing Temple. Yet, no matter how many I ascended, there was never an end—always more steps ahead.

As I grew anxious, a voice came from beside me. She said, “There are only several dozen steps here, yet you remain stuck. Why don’t you move upward?”

“How could there be only dozens? I’ve climbed thousands, but the end is nowhere in sight!” I replied, feeling her voice was vaguely familiar. Yet I couldn’t recall whose it was.

“There are countless steps in your heart. No matter how hard you try, you’ll never reach the end. But if you can let go of what weighs upon you, you’ll find yourself already at the summit.”

“Look!”

As her words faded, I realized I truly was standing at the top of the steps; beyond was no further ascent.

When I turned to look back, I saw only several dozen steps behind me. The climb, which had seemed so arduous before, was suddenly so simple.

Then, she asked, “Have you been preoccupied with your grandfather’s affairs?”

“Yes!” I answered.

“In that case, your bond with him is deep. Let me help him return to you—would you like that?” she suddenly said. I thought I must have misheard.

“Of course, that would be best. Do you have a way?” I asked.

“Yes, I have my methods. You need only agree to one condition,” she said.

“What condition? Tell me!” I pressed.

“Do not continue investigating your own origins,” she replied. It was a condition, but sounded more like a warning.

“Why?” I asked. My origins had always been a source of anguish for me, so why would she tell me not to investigate?

“There’s no reason. If you agree, your grandfather will return to the Mountain God Temple at sunset tomorrow. If not, I cannot help you,” she said.

“Alright, I agree!” I responded, exhilarated. I wanted to ask her more, but suddenly I woke from the dream, startled.

And in my hand, I was clutching the Mountain God Token.

I found myself still lying in bed, surprised that everything had merely been a dream.

I sighed, thinking that dreams follow thoughts—clearly, my longing for my grandfather had led to such a dream.

I placed the Mountain God Token on the table beside me and suddenly realized—the voice in the dream sounded like the old Daoist lady I’d met at Baiqing Temple.

Niu Dahuang once spoke of the Dragon-transformed old Daoist, who blessed the villages and saved people from floods. He said the story was true, not just legend.

So, the old Daoist I met was most likely the dragon beneath White Dragon Pool.

If it was really her, could it have been her who sent me the dream? She told me my grandfather would return at sunset, but why did she want me not to investigate my origins?