In a study called "Liu Xia," an enlightenment class was in session.
A dozen boys and girls in their childhood sat in front of the desks. Some listened intently, some were lost in thought, and others were drowsy.
The old master, holding an enlightenment textbook, stopped at a certain point, glanced at the sleepy little boy in the last row by the window, and immediately furrowed his brow, walking down from the podium to stand in front of him.
The old master knocked on the table.
The little boyâs head suddenly drooped, his chin hitting the desk, waking him up with a jolt. He immediately sat up straight, tightening his chest and back.
With his muddled eyes wide open, the old master earnestly said, "To know, to know!"
The little boy smiled and asked, "What does the master want to ask me?"
The old master scolded, "Then tell me, what is âlifeâ? You are not allowed to check the book!"
The little boy stood up, his delicate eyes turned, and in a scholarly manner, he said:
"There is a saying that life is the body and the soul spirit. The fusion and resonance of body and soul spirit is life. Another saying holds that life is the object of existence, and fate is the way of transformation. Existence and transformation together constitute life. Yet another saying states that life is the qi mechanism, and fate is the great Dao. It is life, it is fate, feeling the worldâs qi mechanism, and savoring the great Dao of all living things, that is life."
The old master was immediately astonished. This explanation was not in the enlightenment textbooks, but he was not a rigid or dogmatic person, so he couldnât help but ask,
"Where did you hear this from?"
The little boy scratched his head embarrassedly, "In a dream."
"In a dream?" The old master was quite curious. He had heard of immortals imparting knowledge through dreams.
The little boy continued, "Last night I had a dream. I dreamt of an elder brother... knowing that the master would speak on life today, I couldnât help but ask him what âlifeâ is. Thatâs how the elder brother answered me."
Upon hearing this, the other children in the study started chattering all at once.
The old master listened intently and discovered that these little fellows had all recently dreamt of an "elder brother," which he found wonderfully strange. He couldnât help but to think, could this study have some sort of fateful blessing?
After school, the old master went alone to the Daoist temple on the other side of town, hoping to ask a Daoist for divination.
Being a scholar, he usually didnât associate with Daoists, but having all his students dream of the same person was truly peculiar, and not understanding it weighed heavily on his mind.
The temple assigned him a very young Daoist.
The Daoist smiled and said, "Let this poor Daoist determine your fate, old master."
The old master was skeptical, "Why would they send a wet behind the ears kid like you for divination? Where is your master?"
"This poor Daoist does not take payment."
The old master hesitated and spread out a piece of paper, "Then go ahead and divine. Itâs for my students, these are their birth dates and times."
The Daoist smiled. "This poor Daoist does not require birth dates and times." With that, he spread his hands from his Daoist robe.
The old master immediately saw that all of his fingers were abnormal, four on the left, six on the right, yet they were not deformed, rather well-formed and not disconcerting.
The Daoist didnât wait for the old master to say what to divine. He counted with his fingers, muttered for a while, and then said, "There seems to be a Dream Immortal."
The old master immediately became serious. Could he really have Daoist skills?
The Daoist continued, "The Dream Immortal has passed."
"What do you mean?"
The Daoist smiled, "It means that the person your students dreamt of has already left and wonât harm them."
The old master couldnât help but ask, "Didnât that Dream Immortal leave anything behind?"
"Perhaps theyâll become smarter."
The old master was delighted, "Truly?"
The Daoist chuckled, "In matters of fate, thereâs no true or false. What happens is true, what doesnât is false. The old master need not worry. Teach as usual and all will be well."
"Thank you, young Daoist."
The old master left contentedly.
The Daoist then rose and thought, "Already manifesting in othersâ dreams, it should be soon. Only took twenty years... I thought it would take a thousand. Seems he truly canât be judged by common standards."
Suddenly, he noticed someone approaching the Daoist temple, a young woman with cold yet handsome features. She was attired in dark green traveling clothes, her eyebrows soft yet firm, her delicate nose straight and upright, her vermilion lips drawn, her posture akin to a walking long sword. She indeed was a swordswoman, carrying a simple single-handed sword on her back.
Upon glimpsing the womanâs features, the Daoistâs expression changed instantly, his mind astonished, "How did she find this place? Intuition? Or did she discover something? That shouldnât be! She canât discover meâin her eyes, I should be dead!"
He looked left and right, seeing nothing to conceal himself with, stomped his foot, and quickly twisted and rubbed his face until he became another person entirely.
The woman entered the Daoist temple and surveyed the surroundings, her gaze falling on the Daoist.
The Daoist smiled and asked, "Miss, would you like your fortune told?"
Luo Qingyaoâs voice was clear and cold, "Are you a fortune-teller?"
"I can tell a bit."
Luo Qingyaoâs eyes were sharp as swords, staring at him unmoved,
"Can you really tell?"
The Daoist smiled and said, "Why donât I tell Miss your fortune?"
"Go on." Luo Qingyaoâs gaze remained unchanged.
The Daoist felt a pressure, swallowed his saliva, and thought, Iâll just say something random and send her away. Itâs been twenty years since I last saw her. Sheâs like a different person; she wasnât nearly this icy before!
He casually said, "Miss is troubled by cultivation, I presume."
Luo Qingyao nodded, "Youâve guessed correctly."
The Daoistâs face stiffened... no way, I just said that offhand!
He braced himself again and said, "I suppose Miss is a Sword Cultivator, troubled by the Gathering Pill Technique for the Golden Core." He thought, I said something this unreliable, it should send you away, right?