ES c1: The Winter Wear Rite

July 14th, 2023

On the tenth month and first day of the Lunar Calendar, one of the big three Ghost Festivals, the Winter Wear Rite, is celebrated.

It is also known as the ‘Underworld Yin Festival’ or ‘Ghost Head Festival’ amongst the common folk. It is the day where the living would burn warming, insulated clothes to send to their friends and families in the underworld.

Perhaps due to the festival, it was particularly cold tonight. Even the autumn cicadas were silent.

Moonlight swept across the silhouette of trees that were sparse and scattered, while also casting a cold sheen on the surface of the limestone path.

Before the gates of Tai Yan Sect Mountain lies a village pharmacy. Inside, the attendant on duty was sleepy, dozing off behind the counter, supporting his head with his hand.

It is said that those who walk the path of cultivation do not distinguish between day and night. However, in this village located on the foot of Tai Yan Sect Mountain, the inhabitants are mostly outer sect disciples that have no hope of making a breakthrough and are getting on in their years.

The attendant had a mottled Pentuple spiritual root. Despite cultivating for ten years, he remained stuck at the first level of the Qi Refining stage, so he  was unable to abstain from eating and still needed to sleep. 

The cold winds blew, sounding the wind chimes that hung before the door that served to alert  the shopkeeper that a guest had arrived, the sound musical and pleasant, resounding in the quiet night. 

“Welcome to the Caring for Daoist Friends Store.” The attendant raised his head in a daze. “May I know what herbs this daoist friend requires?”

“I’m good.” A gentle voice said. “I am here to collect herbs.”

The attendant shook off most of his somnolence, subconsciously looking over the person before him.

His back was against the moonlight which outlined his straight silhouette. 

His ink black hair fell loose behind him, only sporting  a plain black robe and donned no ornaments. 

He had a faint, sickly appearance and was as pretty as a Yao that walked out of a storybook about urban legends. He had a dense, ghostly air about him, bizarrely beautiful and graceful. He did not seem like an ordinary person.

The youth held a disciple’s tablet between his fingers with distinct joints, the wide sleeves of his robes dipped slightly as he delivered the tablet onto the counter. 

As the sleeves fanned out, the attendant seemingly caught a glimpse of a strange pattern that disappeared in a flash at the lower hem. 

That pattern was peculiar, delicately sewed on with silver thread. The threads on the fringes were serried and innumerable, extremely detailed. With just a glance, it was clear that the cloth was of top quality.

Common folk are definitely unable to afford such fabric. Even cultivators would not waste both funds and such a precious material to make clothes that held no practical value.

As such, even the attendant, who had been stationed at the foot of Tai Yan Sect Mountain throughout the years and was hence used to seeing figures that were favoured by gods from the world’s number one sect, could not help but draw in a mouthful of cold air. He immediately bolted up. “Immortal, please wait a moment.”

The shopkeeper had indeed ordered the attendant to keep such a matter in mind, but it had been a few years ago. The attendant hurriedly rummaged through the back of the counter before finally finding a jade box, one that had been buried to the very bottom by miscellaneous items. He retrieved it and handed it over with reverence.

“This is the medicine you requested. It has already been fully paid for.”

“Thank you.”

The youth’s profound side profile flashed briefly in the dark. He raised his sleeve to his mouth, lightly coughed twice and took the offered jade box.

It is only until the mysterious, black-clothed youth disappeared through the doorway, a long while later, did the attendant come back to his senses.

He rearranged the various jars and vases he knocked over in a rush just now, mumbling to himself.

“That’s strange. Since when was there an outer sect disciple like him?”

That youth had clearly been holding an identity tag that belonged to an outer disciple of Tai Yan Sect, someone who took care of miscellaneous duties.

An identity tag was something all Tai Yan Sect disciples only had one of. The inner sect disciples and core disciples all have different identity tags- there is no possibility of taking the wrong one.

The attendant pondered for what seemed like half a day, unable to discover even a spider’s thread and horse tracks (clues) from his memories. Yet, he still mysteriously felt that something was off.

His gaze swept past the still burning, red lantern that hung atop the shop’s signage, one that brushed against a certain white coloured, Ghost Drawing Talisman. His pupils suddenly contracted. 

Wait a minute…unless?!

Recalling the indistinct pattern he had seen on the youth’s sleeve, large beads of cold sweat appeared on the attendant’s forehead as he fell to the floor, his expression filled with alarm and terror.

He finally knew why he found that pattern familiar.

 ——That clearly was the pattern that must be sewn on the deceased’s burial clothes, the same ones that are burned during the Winter Wear Rite.

    ####

Time passed by in a blur. Once again, more than half a year had passed.

It was not yet daybreak, but there was ruckus being raised in the Cold Dormitory located on the foot of Tai Yan Mountain.

The Cold Dormitory was where the Outer Disciples lived. The rooms were uniformly partitioned by cut, wooden planks, covered by roofs made of sogon grass.

“The Yao Race is coming to form an alliance with us today. Do you want to join in the fun?”

The disciple that woke up early to pluck herbs had brought back big news, sparking an extensive discussion.

“The Yao Race? Form an alliance with us?” Someone exclaimed: “Haven’t they always looked down on human cultivators?”

“I’m not too sure. It is said that the Yao Race was the one who initiated it.” The disciple that brought back the news shared. “Just now, I saw the Sect Leader leading all the Peak Masters and Elders to the public square.”

Even the sect’s executives made a move. This alliance must be imperative. 

This is a very important matter!

The outer sect disciples in the courtyard soon started discussing the matter.

Outer sect disciples are considered the most lowly existences in the world of cultivation. Even if every one of them were discussing vehemently, they are unable to come to any actual conclusions. With their status, they are unable to access any of the sect’s inside information.

At that moment, a door was pushed open gently.

The disciples in the courtyard that noticed this lowered their voices one after another.

The youth pushed open the door and entered, gaze sweeping across the courtyard. His complexion was pale, expression neutral, wearing an extremely plain, black changshan1 that was unable to conceal his unrivalled beauty. 

“Cough, cough, cough…”

He only walked two steps but quickly stopped, coughing in a heartrending manner. His pale face was suffused with a light blush. 

“Zong Daoyou2, your health…are you alright?”

The disciples that looked on were stricken with terror, approaching and asked cautiously.

“No need to worry. It is just an old ailment.”

Zong Ci brushed it off with a wave of his hand and did not take such a small matter to heart.

Having said this, he paused, seemingly saying off handedly: “You were talking about the Yao Race earlier…did something happen?”

“It is Liu Daoyou who brought back the news. He said the Yao Race is going to form an alliance with our sect!”

“That’s right, that’s right. Apparently the sect’s executives had already gone to welcome them.”

Once asked, many outer sect disciples started chattering, fighting to explain the situation.

Although Zong Ci hadn’t entered the Sect for long, his reputation amongst the disciples was quite good and was respected.

He had a gentle temperament, looked attractive, had a laid back attitude and the bearings befitting a scholar, as well as an aloof style of swordsmanship that was unparalleled. Amongst a group of boys and girls who were in their teenage years, Zong Ci was like a shining star, a crane in a flock of chickens3 (outstanding). 

Whenever other disciples came looking for him when encountering difficulties during their missions, he never rejected any of their requests for help. That’s why whenever a disciple stumbled upon medicinal herbs with nourishing properties by chance when out on their missions, they would deliver it to Zong Ci the first chance they had.

Everyone knew Zong Ci had a weak body, and not in the typical way either. Even if he were to tread the path of Immortals, it would still be extremely difficult for him to recover.

Allegedly, this sort of defect in the spiritual root affected his cultivation, hence why Zong Ci is only in the third level of the Qi Refining stage with no signs of advancement. Such a tragedy makes one wring their hands in frustration in his stead.

“I see.”

After hearing their explanation, Zong Ci nodded, pondering their words.

“Then Zong-xiong4(Zong Ci), should we also go and join in on the fun?”

At this disciple’s question, all the outer sect disciples in the courtyard turned to look at Zong Ci simultaneously, seemingly ready to follow his lead.

Such a large courtyard was unexpectedly silent, with not a single person voicing any thoughts of opposition.

“We should go.” Zong Ci smiled slightly, discreetly sweeping his gaze over a certain enthusiastic disciple. “Since there are guests coming over to establish an alliance with us, and we too are a part of Tai Yan Sect, why shouldn’t we go?”

“What Zong-xiong said is correct. Then let us head over quickly.”

And so the large gathering of disciples set off towards the mountain’s gate.

Since they are all below the Foundation Building stage and hence unable to learn how to ride any form of spiritual tools or weapons, they all used the most primitive method of transportation — Walking.

Fortunately, the outer sect disciples’ dormitories were located at the foot of Mount Tai Yan and weren’t that far away from the mountain’s gate. They arrived within the time it took to burn an incense5 (5 minutes).

The gathering of outer sect disciples looked quite impressive due to their sheer numbers, attracting a lot of attention as they made their way over.

Zong Ci was walking at the very front, wearing a plain, black changshan with wide sleeves. Despite his ordinary garb, he looked like a child with splendid prospects6 and the onlookers were unable to look away once their gaze fell on him.

The executives of Tai Yan sect that had long been waiting at the mountain’s gate also took notice of the arrival of the outer sect disciples.

“How rare. Are the outer sect disciples usually this organised?”

The Pill Peak’s peak master’s eyes swept over, revealing amazement in his eyes

In Tai Yan Sect, the outer sect disciples are at the bottom of the barrel, belonging to the group that were eliminated in the first stage of selection. All of them had Quadruple or Pentuple spiritual roots and more or less have no future. It was rare that any of them would be promoted to become an inner sect disciple, since most of them are unable to break through to the Foundation Building stage before their death.

Tai Yan Sect did not make it compulsory for the outer sect disciples to come over, much less in such an organised manner. It surpassed the expectations of many Tai Yan Sect’s executives.

Every peak master has long since brought over their elite level disciples, including their core disciples, to greet the Yao Race. Even so, elite level disciples were few in number to begin with, and not many inner sect disciples chose to join. As a result, when the outer sect disciples arrived, the Public Square seemed less empty and that much more grandiose. 

After the Pill Peak’s peak master said his piece, many peak masters used their Divine Sense to probe a certain black clothed youth. 

Both his mannerism and appearance were top-notch. Unfortunately, his cultivation was low, his steps were unsteady, a lowly disciple that was at most in the third level of the Qi Refining stage.

The Sect Leader was about to say something, but was interrupted by the appearance of mists and clouds drifting over the horizon.

An imposing and luxurious moving palace was driven over, rolling clouds of mist curling around as it moved, seemingly an alcazar that housed immortals from the Ninth Heaven.

How extravagant!

The crowd collectively drew in a cold breath.

From afar, one could see that there were all kinds of buildings on it. Pavilions and kiosks, small bridges and flowing streams, its elegance was nonpareil.

Such a rarely seen flying treasure had to be at least a Divine level tool.

Atop the moving palace, the Yao Emperor draped and crowned in red stood up against the breeze. The ends of his long and narrow phoenix eyes were slightly slanted upwards, dyed with an incomparably bewitching crimson.

Behind him, the hundred civil and military officials of the Demons Race were dressed formally, their ceremonial tablets in hand, serious expressions on their face, as orderly as words  on print.

“Immortal Qing Yun. I trust you have been well since we parted?”

When one walked closer, they would discover that the man’s face was extremely close to a human’s definition and standard of ‘beauty’— a beauty that surpassed even the limits of gender. Moreover, his every movement exuded a charm of the highest quality. A cultivator without a firm heart would find themselves unable to look away from him at all.

“Long time no see, your highness Rong Lian.”

The usually solemn Sect Leader’s face showed a trace of a friendly smile, cupping his hands in greeting in the direction of the far off floating palace, giving the other party due respect.

Since the two influences had directly met upfront, this meant that the alliance had already been discussed and established, with both sides reaching an agreement. They flattered each other for a couple of incenses worth of time7, exchanged pleasantries for a short while, before proceeding with the main event of their alliance.

The Spiritual Tool Peak’s peak master took out a spiritual tool from his sleeve. It expanded as it spun around and around, eventually becoming a large ink slab that doubled as a stage8, descending on the centre of the Public Square.

The forming of an alliance should be celebrated. Hence, to promote friendly relations between both sides from that day on, and to provide a chance for everyone to familiarise themselves with each other, Tai Yan Sect and the Yao Race unanimously agreed to hold a martial arts competition. It is also counted as a grand opening event to invite good fortune.

The common language spoken in the world of cultivation was with their fist. It is through a martial arts competition that one could gain recognition, respect and fraternity from the other side.

“Please.”

Both parties’ executives were seated systematically in their place on the Cloud Platform, overlooking the scene below.

On the stage in the public square, both sects’ new and upcoming disciples with much potential were locked in fierce battle. In that time, spiritual tools, spells and talismans alike shone as they were used, dazzling and in every colour under the sun as their users exchanged blows with each other. The place was bustling with noise and excitement.

Usually, outer sect disciples and inner sect disciples rarely have the chance to see these disciples with some fame fight others, much less receive an opportunity to attend an event and see them live.

Not long after, the news of the Yao Race and Tai Yan Sect’s alliance had spread across the entire sect. Many disciples rushed over to spectate. There was much cheering and clapping round after round, volume rising and falling in succession battle after battle. It was very lively.

Amongst the bustling noise and excitement, the black-clothed youth was silent, as if he was a bystander.

Rong Lian, Rong Lian…the Nine Tailed Fox Yao, Rong Lian.

So it is him. He became the Yao Emperor after all.

Zong Ci silently balled his hands into a fist, looking towards the Cloud Platform high above. His gaze was unusually calm and indifferent, yet a complexity and obscurity that was unfitting of his age was mingled in.

That person was still clothed in flamboyant fires, his eyes were still as bewitching as it was free, his beauty was still capable of causing the common people to lose all their senses.

There was no difference between the him now and the him in Zong Ci’s memories.

In the years since then, Zong Ci lived muddle-headed and ignorant.

For a person with a fragmented soul like his, reconstructing his mortal body was as difficult as ascending to the heavens.

Zong Ci had no idea how long he slept, only remembering that he would enter a state of rest and recovery every so often due to his incomplete soul. 

The first time he awoke, he returned to sleep mere seconds later. He only had a silver of consciousness then, his physical body had long been reduced to scattered ashes and dispersed smoke9(obliterated). 

Just like that, he woke up and returned to sleep, then woke up only to sleep once more countless times. After an unknown period of time of nothing but slumbering, his soul finally stabilised.

The last time he awakened, Zong Ci keenly felt that it was time. And so, he reached out his hand, using his Blood Essence to forcibly -and was barely able to- create a new body for himself.

It was too bad that there weren’t enough materials, and so he had no choice but to risk leaving his tomb in the Dragon Bone Abyss in search of them. He was lucky enough to find a storage pouch10. With the spirit stones and disciple tag that was inside it, he ordered a sprig of Spirit Returning Herb.

It was also only a few months ago did Zong Ci find out that it had been more than a thousand years since his death.

Even though it is said that there were no years and months in the world of cultivation due to the longevity of cultivators, a thousand years was in no way considered a short period of time.

Before Zong Ci’s death, he was precisely on the Dzogchen phase of the Adversity Overcoming stage, ascending in broad daylight, obtaining the position of an immortal that no one had achieved in aeons. 

He had once seen the scenery at the very peak, had once possessed treasures that others could only dream of having, had once drank wine and laughed with countless outstanding figures of his time.

He was accomplished in treading the Path of the Sword, was successful in comprehending the ways of the immortals to become one of them, was able to glimpse the beautiful sight from beyond the Ninth Heaven11, was the one to save the world.

His heart had always been set on achieving the pinnacle of the Path of the Sword, set on the Great Dao and longevity, cultivating tirelessly day after day, year after year. On the contrary, his interpersonal relations became as messy as a bundle of tangled yarn.

But in this life, there was a problem with his soul. He was destined to be unable to reach that pinnacle he had achieved back then.

His immortal body had been obliterated, the cultivation path he had walked on completely ruptured, both with no way of recovery.

It was to the extent that, because of his incomplete soul, his physical body would be heavily burdened. It was incomparably difficult to even direct Qi into his body.

There was no way he could say that he didn’t feel depressed. 

Moreover, in his past life, he had once sacrificed himself to eliminate a Demon, had once saved the world and had no one believe he did it.

The shidi he thought of as a close friend had long wanted him dead, having coaxed him into drinking a Divine Scattering Tonic he secretly slipped in the night before Zong Ci would become an Immortal; The shizun he had known for centuries was shocked to fury, drawing his sword to purge him from the sect; The one he secretly admired smiled at him coldly, leaking the news of him becoming a Demon, the last straw that broke the camel’s back and killed it.

In the end, he was opposed by all and deserted by his friends12 (utterly isolated).

Does he hate them?

There was no way he could say that he didn’t feel hatred for them as well. However, the kindness he received from them was as boundless and as deep as the ocean. Even if he was betrayed, it was impossible for Zong Ci to forget what they had done for him and choose to repay their kindness with resentment.

When all is said and done, he was the one who overestimated himself. He wouldn’t hate others for his own mistakes.

Since he could live another lifetime, he didn’t want vengeance to lower the standing of his own soul. Living well was enough for him.

But Zong Ci didn’t think that he would meet one of his old friends so soon.

The appearance of Rong Lian roused memories of the past that Zong Ci didn’t want to remember in the slightest.

Zong Ci grinded this name to bits, repeating it silently, his tongue rolling over each syllable over and over again, and it all seemed hilarious and satirical to him.

Regardless of what happened, the beliefs he once had seemed to have dissipated along with his death. Like clouds and smoke. Like his mortal body and path — Annihilated without a trace.

Does he still like Rong Lian?

Of course not. He wasn’t going to disparage himself.

Since Rong Lian is now a stranger, why would there be a need for Zong Ci to care?

Zong Ci mocked himself in his heart and outwardly smiled a little, about to shift his gaze away.

At that very moment, as if the Yao Emperor had detected his gaze from beyond the clouds, subconsciously scrunched his eyebrows and unleashed a boundless Divine Sense that belonged to a cultivator of the Exiting Orifices stage.

Within a second, it accurately pinpointed the youth clothed in black that hadn’t been able to withdraw his gaze in time.

Footnotes:

(1) Changshan (长衫): Lit. Long Robe. Traditional Chinese clothing worn mostly by men.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1455820681/men-chinese-chang-pao-chinese-changshan  (Not paid promotion. It’s just for picture reference)

More info: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Changshan 

(2) Daoyou (道友): Lit. Daoist friend. A friendly term of endearment for fellow cultivators.

(3) A crane in a flock of chicken (鹤立鸡群) [Idiom]: Outstanding. Superior.

(4) –xiong (兄）: Lit. Older brother. Another friendly term of endearment but slightly more intimate than Daoyou. It’s for male friends that are older than you. Or your actual older brother. The same -xiong in shixiong.

(5) Within the time it took to burn an incense ( 一炷香时间): 5 min, 30 minutes or an hour, depending on context. The author most likely meant 5 minutes. You’ll see why I deducted so later on in the chapter…

(6) Orchids and jade trees (芝兰玉树) [idiom]: A child with splendid future prospects.

(7) A couple of incenses worth of time: See why I said one incense = 5 mins?

(8) Ink slab that doubled as a stage(砚台): Ink slabs originated from the grinding implements used in primitive Chinese society to grind pigment on stone.

Image: http://www.zhongguociwang.com/show.aspx?id=9262&cid=37 

A little double meaning is used by the author here. The second character can also be interpreted as ‘stage’, which is what this giant ink slab was used for.

(9) Reduced to scattered ashes and dispersed smoke (灰飞烟灭) [idiom]: Obliterated. Deader than dead. Ancient chinese people place a lot of importance in preserving a full corpse even after death because they believe the state you were in death would be how you would be in the next life. E.g Person A was missing a left leg when buried so in Person A’s next life he would be born without a left leg/left leg would be disabled.

Tragic.

(10) Storage bag (储物锦囊): Literally translates to a silk brocade bag for storage purposes. Like an inventory. Fun fact: A silk brocade bag was used in ancient times to hold poetry manuscripts and other precious items. Figuratively, it also means tip/ a piece of practical advice.

(11) Ninth Heaven ( 九天): Lit. Ninth Sky. The “ninth heaven” is the most exalted heaven in Chinese cosmology. The highest level of the ‘skies’.

(12) Opposed by all and deserted by his friends(众叛亲离) [idiom]: Utterly isolated.