Chapter 6 — Initiation

Song Dayi's voice was rough and loud. "Yes. Early this morning, returning by air with several fellow disciples from some business, we passed over Liumiao Village, and by chance I looked down, and saw more than two hundred corpses heaped together in the village—a sight too horrible to bear. We hurried down to investigate, and found only these two children behind the village, unconscious, so we first had a junior disciple carry them back. Then, in a latrine at the village edge—" he pointed at Uncle Wang Er, huddled in the corner— "we found this man. But his eyes were blank and his mind wandering; no matter how I questioned him he would not answer, only repeating over and over: ghosts, ghosts, evil ghosts."

Lin Jinghong's body gave a shudder, and he said, trembling, "Brother, may I ask—have you counted the people?"

Compassion showed in Song Dayi's eyes. "I found a junior disciple who had long traded for firewood with your village and knew its people well. By his recognition and our count, the forty-two households of Liumiao Village, two hundred and forty-seven souls in all—apart from you three, all are dead."

Though they had sensed it already, hearing Song Dayi's plain confirmation, Lin Jinghong and Zhang Qingyue still felt the world go dark before their eyes, and nearly swooned again.

The Perfected One Daoyan gave a soft sigh, brushed his left hand lightly, and from within his sleeve flew a small red pearl. It came before Zhang and Lin, rolled a few times over their brows and over their hearts, and at once a cool, clear breath passed into their bodies. Somehow the nerves that had been drawn taut in their hearts seemed to loosen, and overcome by exhaustion, they could not help but lie down there in the hall and fall asleep.

The Perfected One Daoyan waved his hand, and the standing disciples bowed one by one and withdrew in order. In the hall only the six of them remained.

Then the short, stout man said, "Sect Master, you have used the Spirit-Calming Pearl to settle them for now—but when they wake, how do you mean to deal with them?"

The Perfected One Daoyan considered a moment, then turned to the Daoist seated first on the left and asked, "Junior Brother Cangsong, what is your view?"

The Perfected One Cangyan was tall of frame and grave of countenance, head of the Dragon Peak branch of the Canglan Sect. Within the sect, save for the Perfected One Daoyan's own senior line, it was his Dragon Peak that held the greatest power. Cangsong was stern by nature; besides governing the disciples of his own branch, he also oversaw all matters of punishment throughout Canglan. The Qingyun disciples revered their Sect Master Daoyan beyond measure, but what they feared most was this unsmiling head of Dragon Peak.

Now the Perfected One Cangyan knitted his thick brows, and after a time said, "There are many doubtful points in this matter, and it will not be cleared up in haste. But the people of Liumiao Village were ever simple and honest; we cannot turn our backs on their surviving orphans. My view is that we should take the two of them into the sect."

The Perfected One Daoyan nodded. "Well said. That is my own thought. These two children are orphaned and wretched; we must look after them. Only, I have taken no disciples for many years. I wonder which of my junior brothers would take them in?"

Then the short, stout man—Tian Buhui, head of the Dazhu Peak branch of the Canglan Sect—said, "Sect Master, in my view it would be best not to give the two of them to the same master. Their histories are alike; if they stay together, each will see in the other the memory of what passed, and such resentment will never cease. I fear it will go badly for them hereafter."

The Perfected One Daoyan thought a moment. "Junior Brother Tian speaks sense. They are young and have met with great calamity; we must do well to dissolve the hatred in their hearts. Indeed it is not fitting that they dwell in one place. Then it will take two junior brothers to take them in." As he spoke, he looked over the assembly.

And lo, the eyes of the other five branch heads—Cangsong first among them, and Tian Buhui and the rest—fell almost all at once upon Lin Jinghong, circling and lingering, unwilling to leave him, while no one paid any heed to Zhang Qingyue at his side.

In the way of cultivation, aptitude is of supreme importance; the world often tells of a genius who, enlightened to the Dao, surpasses a hundred years of practice in a single stroke. And the Canglan Sect knew this better than any. In the days when the sect stood at the end of its road, it had relied on a single Ancestor Qingye, a man of dazzling brilliance: young in years, yet of surpassing natural gifts, he had fathomed the ancient scrolls of his forebears, and his cultivation far outstripped that of all the generations before him. A tiny Canglan Sect he made vigorous and thriving beyond measure, and today it stood as the leader of the righteous way under heaven.

Moreover, a famed master is hard to find, but a disciple of rare aptitude is no less so. Lin Jinghong's gifts were surpassing and his frame and constitution wondrously suited; the branch heads of Canglan had seen it at a glance.

After a pause, Tian Buhui coughed and said, "Heh heh, Sect Master, you know my Dazhu Peak has ever been thin in numbers. So this time I'll settle one of them for you."

He was about to point at Lin Jinghong when Shang Zhengliang, head of the Chaoyang Peak branch, rose first and stepped before him, saying to the Perfected One Daoyan, "Sect Master, the moment I saw this child today I felt a rare affinity with him—surely there is a bond between us from a former life. Let him enter my school."

The Canglan Sect had a long history; on the surface the branches were harmonious, but each harbored a will to outdo the others. Seeing Lin Jinghong's surpassing gifts, none could say whether he might not be the next Ancestor Qingye; and at the least, taking him in meant only one more disciple, while denying the other branches the chance. Ordinarily, given Daoyan's prestige and cultivation, none would dare contend—but Daoyan himself had said he would take no disciple, and such a windfall could not be let pass.

No sooner had Shang Zhengliang's words fallen than Tianyun, Daoist head of the Luoxia Peak branch, said from the side, "Senior Brother Shang, you already have two hundred disciples under you. If each of them has a bond with you from a former life, your bonds are somewhat too many."

Shang Zhengliang flushed and was about to speak, but Tian Buhui cut in, "Senior Brother Tianyun is right. Speaking of numbers of disciples, the least of yours is above a hundred, while my Dazhu Peak has only seven—it hardly looks proper. Better that—"

Then the Perfected One Cangyan broke in. "Junior Brother Tian, these two children are so pitiable; what we should give them is the best of care, not weigh our own numbers this way and that." He turned to the Perfected One Daoyan and cupped his hands. "Sect Master, this child is indeed fine material. Let me take him in. I will teach him with all my heart and bring him to accomplishment, as comfort to the souls of Liumiao Village."

The Perfected One Daoyan considered a moment. Tian Buhui, Shang Zhengliang, and the others all cried silently in their hearts that this was ill. And so it proved: after a time Daoyan said, "Junior Brother Cangsong speaks reasonably as well. Then let him enter your school."

Cangsong smiled faintly. "Thank you, Sect Master."

All watched, and knowing Cangsong of old as a fellow of their sect, they knew that for him to smile today was to be glad indeed at heart; they could not help but chafe in secret. But Daoyan had spoken, and Cangsong's Dragon Peak was mighty; they could only swallow their vexation.

Daoyan paused, then said, "And this other one—"