Chapter 15: Ascending Dragon-Tiger Mountain, Ancestral Home of Daoism

Mount Dragon and Tiger, ancestral home of Daoism.

Here, towering peaks and perilous terrain are shrouded in mist, lending the land a mythical quality. Legend has it that Zhang Daoling, founder of the Orthodox Unity School and foremost among the Four Great Celestial Masters of Daoism, once refined elixirs here. When his alchemy succeeded, a wondrous vision of dragons and tigers manifested, giving the mountain its name.

Within Mount Dragon and Tiger, there are three famed sites: the Celestial Master’s Mansion, the Orthodox Unity Temple, and the Supreme Purity Palace, each home to Daoist priests. Yet, in terms of influence and renown, none surpass the Celestial Master’s Mansion.

At this moment, beneath the mountain gate, four or five figures robed in Daoist attire had gathered. Among them, an elderly priest with graying hair and a crimson robe stood at the forefront. In Daoism, the color of one’s robe denotes seniority and status—crimson only one step below purple. This elder was none other than Master Yuyang, junior brother to the current Celestial Master of the Mansion.

The others, clad in simple blue robes, were juniors in the order.

Ordinarily, as a famed scenic site, Mount Dragon and Tiger would be bustling with tourists even outside holidays. But today, the place was deserted. The reason: the Celestial Master’s Mansion was to host a group of distinguished guests, and so the mountain had been closed for the day.

“Master, it’s almost ten o’clock. Why haven’t they arrived yet? Did you perhaps get the date wrong?” A young novice, craning his neck to peer into the distance and seeing no movement, couldn’t help but whisper his concern. Though Daoism observes a hierarchy, its customs are not overly strict, allowing such familiarity. Besides, he knew the elder was already in his nineties.

“No need for haste,” Master Yuyang replied with a gentle smile, assuring the youth there was no need to worry. He had calculated the time; they were punctual.

“Master, look!” called another sharp-eyed novice, pointing ahead.

The group looked up to see a coach approaching, which soon stopped by the roadside. From it descended five or six people, ranging in age from their thirties to their fifties. Without exception, they carried themselves with poise and dressed with distinction—clearly people of considerable means.

“Welcome, esteemed patrons, to the Celestial Master’s Mansion of Mount Dragon and Tiger. Here, this humble priest once again thanks you for your generous contributions,” Master Yuyang greeted them, bowing deeply.

Today, he explained, he would personally guide them in selecting a lay practitioner’s sanctuary within the mountain.

These were wealthy donors who, having given substantial sums, were now entitled to choose their own lay practice sites here. No wonder the junior brother of the present Celestial Master had come out in person to greet them.

“Master, you are far too kind. We are but common folk and feel quite unworthy,” replied a rotund, greasy-haired middle-aged man, clutching his briefcase and speaking with an air of rehearsed refinement. “I am Liu Qing; you may call me Little Liu,” he added.

The other magnates exchanged glances, silently disdainful but maintaining a façade of courtesy as they introduced themselves. They already knew that the Daoist priest receiving them was of high rank, so even they dared not act arrogantly.

It is often said that as one’s wealth and status reach a certain height, one begins to believe in certain things. The wealthy men before them were precisely this sort.

“It’s nearly time, Master—shall we proceed to the Celestial Master’s Mansion?” Mr. Liu inquired, eager to sample the Daoist vegetarian fare and perhaps bask in some immortal aura. The others clearly shared his anticipation.

“It seems there is still one person missing,” observed a novice, flipping through the registry and counting heads once more. “Indeed, someone has yet to arrive.”

This revelation gave the assembled tycoons pause, and a trace of displeasure crossed their faces. They were used to others waiting on them—not the other way around. Nevertheless, seeing Master Yuyang remain calmly in place, they held their tongues and lingered awkwardly.

Before long, a black Mercedes G-Class appeared in view, and a young man alighted. Without hesitation, he approached and offered a slight apology: “Master, I’m coming from Hu City, and the traffic was heavy.”

This young man was Lu Yuan, who had driven from Hu City himself.

“No matter. You are here now,” Master Yuyang replied, unbothered by the minor delay.

Leading the way, the elder priest began the ascent to the Celestial Master’s Mansion, with all others following.

Some of the wealthy guests couldn’t help worrying—after all, the old master was in his nineties. Could he truly make the climb?

As it turned out, despite his advanced years and frail appearance, Master Yuyang’s stamina was remarkable. The group climbed for over an hour without seeing the slightest fatigue in him; his eyes remained sharp and clear.

By contrast, Mr. Liu and his peers were all gasping for breath, gulping down water, and even the novices looked slightly pale, clearly exhausted.

“Esteemed patrons, since there is time, why not rest a while?” Master Yuyang suggested, unfazed by the scene. The proposal was met with universal approval, as the group sank to the ground, clutching their chests.

Yet the old priest’s gaze soon shifted, for not far off, Lu Yuan stood tall and at ease, his bearing unchanged from when they first began. It was as if the long climb had been nothing to him.

“Is it simply youth and good health? No, that alone can’t explain it,” Master Yuyang thought, glancing sideways. In all his years on Mount Dragon and Tiger, he had seen countless climbers, but never one quite like Lu Yuan: utterly unaffected by the ascent.

Strange as it was, he didn’t press the matter and closed his eyes to rest.

Lu Yuan, too, had noticed the priest’s attention. He pondered: “After the great change, Mount Dragon and Tiger was one of the few sacred mountains to quickly emerge with influential figures and maintain its standing in the new era. Some of the elder Daoists here became truly unfathomable. They must have been prepared. Take Master Yuyang, for example—over ninety, yet more vigorous than most young men.”

“People might dismiss it as the prowess of a Daoist adept, but the truth is surely more complex,” he mused. Such legendary mountains brimmed with hidden heritage. Perhaps their ancestral legacies had always been suppressed by the world’s constraints, unable to manifest until now.

With the world’s shackles broken after the great transformation, the cultivation methods of certain monks and Daoists became immensely potent—especially for those who had meditated in seclusion for decades. They could immediately harness mysterious powers.

In ancient times, the alchemists of pre-Qin China could refine elixirs and cultivate with myriad mystical methods. Modern inheritors of such practices would, with the world unbound, naturally achieve the same feats.

In other words, the true strength of these old Daoists had been sealed away, and the advent of change was their moment of unsealing.

Just as he had witnessed before, certain individuals could, with the dawn of a new era, rapidly ascend to great power—because they already possessed a profound foundation.

Lu Yuan felt a twinge of envy and admiration. Still, that was all. After all, how many years had Master Yuyang spent in cultivation? Whereas for him, only a few months’ preparation would suffice.