Chapter Twenty-Two: Ascending the Mountain

Gao Ping Mountain, in this region, stands neither tall nor low. Though there are many strange tales associated with it, few speak of immortals ascending to the heavens. Perhaps every corner of China has its own similar legends. At this time, the famous essay "In Praise of a Humble Room" had yet to be written, so no one dreamed of the saying, "A mountain need not be high; if an immortal dwells there, it will be renowned. A river need not be deep; if a dragon lives there, it will be spiritual." Instead, people's hearts were set on majestic landscapes and lofty peaks, where the literati and poets lavished their talents, leaving little opportunity for modest hills like Gao Ping Mountain. If not for Ge Hong coming here to refine elixirs, Gao Ping Mountain might not even warrant a mention in an encyclopedia today.

Such is the power of fame...

With his thoughts turning, Chen Jin returned to his Daoist temple, tidied up, and made his way to the southern foothills of Gao Ping Mountain, where Ge Hong had carved out a cave to practice alchemy.

The only thing of value in the temple was a painting of the Three Pure Ones; the rest amounted to nothing, the very image of poverty. Chen Jin did not destroy the temple, but left it as it was—perhaps it might serve as shelter for a wandering woodcutter or hunter.

Now, this physical body of his had been fully unlocked for Chen Jin's use. Previously, due to Xinyang's seal, it was nothing more than the frail body of an ordinary person, almost weak beyond belief. After Chen Jin's possession, by the mysterious workings of the Black Book, the body rose to Chen Jin's own standard. Now, with the seal broken, its strength soared, reaching the level a Soul-Gathering cultivator should possess.

To be honest, the seal seemed to Chen Jin akin to self-hypnosis—a powerful act of suggestion convincing oneself of their own limits, though the body could have achieved much more, it was shackled by this self-imposed restriction, and the same held true for cultivation.

Yet, since cultivation itself is a transcendence rooted in idealism, Chen Jin was not particularly surprised by this.

Chen Jin, ever the pragmatist, cared little for idealism or materialism; whatever benefited him, he would pursue.

This body now offered him many advantages, at the very least allowing him to truly experience the sensations of future cultivation. Though cultivation begins with the spirit, advancement still requires a material vessel—the body is indispensable. Both are equally vital.

Most importantly, this body now allowed Chen Jin to walk in the air and live without eating ordinary food, sustaining himself on pure vital energy.

"Truly, he was a great benefactor!" Chen Jin mused, grateful for Xinyang's contribution.

Though he could have flown straight to Ge Hong's cave, Chen Jin refrained out of respect for his elder. Such an action would have been discourteous, so he chose instead to ascend slowly, taking the opportunity to appreciate the ancient scenery of Ge Hong Mountain.

In these days, it was still called Gao Ping Mountain, for the effect of a famous name had yet to grace it. There were few temples—only the humble thatched hut Xinyang had established, which to outsiders would seem nothing more than a simple shelter for woodcutters or hunters.

Gao Ping Mountain now boasted many caves, though most were lairs of venomous creatures and fierce beasts, waiting to be discovered and named by those who came after.

Ge Hong had not seized any beast's natural dwelling, but instead carved out his own cave on the southern cliff.

His nephews and disciples lived there with him. Xinyang had visited once before, but had not stayed long, having to deal with the one-eyed man.

Arriving at the cliffs, Chen Jin soon found the cave. It appeared no different from any other on the mountain, its only distinction being that someone dwelled within.

Ge Hong, an old man with white hair and a youthful face, stood at the entrance awaiting Chen Jin.

"Xinyang, you must learn to let go," Ge Hong sighed.

"Thank you, Immortal Elder," Chen Jin replied.

"You are as polite as ever. That title, 'Immortal Elder,' is more than I deserve. I am older than you, of a generation with your master, and only shamelessly accept it. You may call me Uncle Ge, as Boyang and Zhongxin do. Or, if you prefer, you may simply call me Ge Hong, or Baopuzi."

"Uncle Ge..." Chen Jin, inwardly delighted, feigned embarrassment.

To be permitted to address him as Uncle Ge, the bond between them was instantly drawn closer.

"Good, good," Ge Hong beamed, though perhaps he hoped even more that Chen Jin would call him teacher.

And so Chen Jin was led into the cave by Ge Hong... though for some reason, he felt something was a little off...

Chen Jin recognized Ge Hong's disciples and nephews. He had even seen Ge Hong's wife in Xinyang's memories, though she was not present this time, seemingly occupied with affairs in Guangxi.

Chen Jin did not know the true depth of Ge Hong's cultivation, but he surmised it was close to immortality. Historical records state that Ge Hong eventually passed away at Mount Luofu, but perhaps he had already attained perfection and ascended—the understanding he displayed of cultivation was profound indeed.

Within the cave Ge Hong had carved, a painting of the Three Pure Ones hung on the wall, and it appeared to be the work of the same hand as the painting Chen Jin owned.

Apart from the painting, the most striking object in the cave was the tall, three-legged bronze cauldron standing in the center. Its lid was tightly closed, and beneath its belly a violet-gold flame burned fiercely. From time to time, a fragrant aroma would waft from beneath the lid, and just a single whiff left Chen Jin feeling calm and refreshed.

The cave was spacious. The cauldron dominated the center, the painting hung on the front wall, and two wooden racks flanked either side. On the left, one rack held earthy minerals, cinnabar, and both fresh and dried herbs; on the right, the other rack was stacked with bamboo slips and silk scrolls—Ge Hong's notes and research on alchemy.

Three young Daoists in gray robes were present. One tended the fire beneath the cauldron, another inspected the cinnabar and herbs, and the third organized the books.

These were all Ge Hong's disciples and nephews. One was named Ge Boyang, another Ge Zhongxin, and the third Bao Xincun. The first two were Ge Hong's nephews, the last his wife's nephew. All in all, they were family.

They were also well acquainted with Xinyang. Cultivators across the land of China were often connected, and as long as one did not practice evil arts, there was always some tie—especially among those of the southern tradition, who frequently held gatherings to exchange thoughts on cultivation.

However, the level of these three was currently only at the Spirit-Focusing stage, still a step below Xinyang's original Soul-Gathering, and thus they addressed Xinyang as senior brother.

When they saw Chen Jin arrive, all greeted him as senior brother, and he returned the courtesy.

"A few days ago, True Lord Xu sent me a message: Wenma County will soon be struck by a plague demon. Thus I journeyed here, to gather herbs and refine elixirs in preparation. Now, with Nephew Xinyang joining us, I am certain we can save the people from disaster," Ge Hong said gravely, gazing at the cauldron.

"Has the True Lord divined the precise day the plague demon will descend? So that we may be fully prepared and save as many as possible," Chen Jin asked, his expression equally solemn.

"Alas, this is a calamity decreed by heaven. For True Lord Xu to have divined even this much cost him greatly; to pinpoint the exact time is beyond reach. We can only hope the disaster comes late, so we might better prepare ourselves," Ge Hong sighed and shook his head.

"Let us hope so," Chen Jin agreed with a nod.

"............"