Chapter Seven: When the Heavenly Gate Opens, Immortality Follows

At this moment, though Fang Zheng was filled with questions, he did not rush to speak. He could see that Old Shen’s mood was clearly off—almost as if he’d been startled. The old man’s sudden rise had even given Fang Zheng a fright. At the same time, Fang Zheng felt a growing anxiety; judging by Old Shen’s reaction, something within his body was far from normal—otherwise, he would not be wearing such an expression. Whether this was a blessing or a curse, Fang Zheng could not yet judge.

“Incredible, truly incredible! The Sea of Qi just formed, the Purple Mansion just opened, yet the phenomenon of the Star’s Radiance has already appeared. Your inner energy has not only crossed the Dragon Gate, but in one breath shattered the Celestial Gate, drawing in spiritual energy as if a dragon soared through the heavens. Such legendary sights—I never expected I would be fortunate enough to witness them, and right here in this humble Shen Family Village. The world is vast and full of wonders indeed.”

“Old Shen, is this good or bad?” Fang Zheng asked.

“Good, very good—exceptionally good! You have leapt in a single step over a process that would take others decades. How could that be bad? I had thought, at your age, you’d already missed the prime window for cultivation and that in this life you’d never open the Celestial Gate and step onto the true path. But it seems Heaven had plans all along. Such fate and fortune are enough to make anyone envious—even this half-crippled old man feels a twinge of jealousy!”

“Old Shen, could you explain in clearer terms? I’m afraid my knowledge is too shallow to understand,” Fang Zheng admitted helplessly. He had grasped terms like “Purple Mansion” and “Sea of Qi” after this morning’s lesson with Old Shen, but the rest left him in a fog.

“The path of cultivation begins with the birth of inner energy, which you gradually strengthen. When enough has accumulated in both quantity and intensity, you open a ‘Sea of Qi’ at your dantian, also known as the ‘Purple Mansion.’ It is the very foundation, the reservoir of your inner energy,” Old Shen explained, pausing to catch his breath before continuing. “Normally, when the Purple Mansion first forms, it’s a gray, lifeless place, which must be slowly nurtured in the course of future training to gain vitality and spirit. But your ‘Star-Radiant Purple Mansion’ is renowned in the cultivation world—alive with vigor from the start, as if countless stars shine within your Sea of Qi. This offers tremendous advantages for absorbing spiritual energy in your future practice. And once the Sea of Qi is full, the inner energy surges upward and breaks through the ‘Dragon Gate’ at the base of the neck.”

Old Shen paused again, searching for the right words. “There have been many theories about the Dragon Gate in the human body since ancient times. The most convincing likens it to the transverse bone in the throats of spirit beasts. We humans are born with Heaven’s favor, which arouses its jealousy—so our cultivation is beset by countless tribulations, and the Dragon Gate is the greatest physical barrier. Spirit beasts live long and cultivate easily; once they gain intelligence and learn to absorb the sun and moon’s essence, only time remains in their way. Their sole hurdle is the stubborn transverse bone; so long as it remains, they cannot speak and are little more than beasts.”

“The Celestial Gate is an even higher achievement than the Dragon Gate. There’s a saying: ‘When the Celestial Gate opens, the mortal and the immortal are divided.’ Before opening the Celestial Gate, all cultivation is an internal, minuscule process, and the growth of inner energy depends on refining one’s own essence. The spiritual energy you can absorb from the outside is negligible. Only after a breakthrough akin to the opening of the Purple Mansion can you open the Celestial Gate. ‘Once the Celestial Gate opens, longevity follows.’ From then on, you can draw spiritual energy from the world into your body, strengthen yourself, and use the Celestial Gate as a bridge to command the world’s energy—moving mountains and filling seas with your arts. With constant nourishment from spiritual energy, your body improves, your lifespan lengthens, and you are no longer an ordinary mortal.”

By now Fang Zheng understood most of what Old Shen said, and a quiet joy rose in his heart. After all, who could resist the temptation of longevity? Even living longer, without being truly immortal, was a tremendous blessing.

“Well then, I’ll do you this favor to the end. I don’t know what stroke of luck you stumbled into, boy. You know nothing about cultivation, yet by some twist of fate, you have a foundation that would make others green with envy. You’re already at the stage where you can learn spells and techniques. I do have a fine sword art here—I’ll pass it to you shortly.”

“I must thank you in advance, Old Shen. But I have one more question: is traditional pulse-reading truly so miraculous? Can it really reveal another’s cultivation so clearly?”

Old Shen laughed. “Now that you’ve set foot on this path, I needn’t hide anything from you. I was once the alchemy elder of Jade Palace Pavilion, but owing to certain events and the loss of hope for immortality, I resigned and came home to lay my bones to rest. Nine years ago I returned, only to find my line’s legacy had already died out, and this was no longer the Shen Family Village of old. But the world is vast and I had nowhere else to go, so I set up this little shop to wait for my end. As for your question, that’s common knowledge among cultivators. Methods for probing others’ cultivation are minor arts. Besides, I use the pulse as a bridge, and since you don’t yet know how to conceal your breath or your signs, I can see straight through you.”

“In the future, once you’ve mastered these basics and learned to hide yourself, no one will be able to read you so easily,” Old Shen added by way of explanation.

With Old Shen’s words, the doubts in Fang Zheng’s heart were largely dispelled.

“It seems I must quickly revisit that cultivation method.” After clarifying the meridians and basic knowledge with Old Shen that morning, Fang Zheng could now understand most of the text. Still, he needed to go over it carefully again, combining it with the movements from the illustrated manual he had practiced. The results should be even better, considering that merely imitating those movements a few times had brought about such change. This realization made Fang Zheng appreciate the extraordinary nature of those three hidden pages; the ingenuity of their concealment alone spoke volumes. “I can’t afford to be careless from now on.” Human nature is ever greedy, and the saying “a man’s wealth is his own ruin” remains eternally true. Fortunately, Old Shen was not a wicked man—had he been, he would have questioned Fang Zheng about his technique long ago. Old Shen, however, had not probed further. Remembering this, Fang Zheng silently engraved this kindness in his heart.

Having accomplished his purpose for the day, and with the little girl by his side, Fang Zheng realized the two of them had not eaten or drunk since dawn. He himself didn’t feel hungry, but the girl was still growing, and after what happened today, it was better to take her home to recuperate.

“Thank you for clearing up my doubts, Senior. I will never forget your kindness today!” Fang Zheng rose, bowed deeply, and prepared to take his leave.

“I only moved my lips, that’s all. Besides, you suit my temperament, boy. Your gratitude is enough.” As he spoke, Old Shen handed Fang Zheng a thin booklet. Fang Zheng hadn’t seen where he’d taken it from; it hadn’t been in his hand a moment ago.

“Cultivators truly are mysterious,” Fang Zheng mused, his longing deepening as he accepted the booklet with anticipation.

After thanking Old Shen again, Fang Zheng took the little girl by the hand and departed. They soon returned to their own courtyard, where Aunt Zhao was busy in the kitchen. That morning, the girl’s breakfast had been interrupted by the villain Shen Wan barging in. When Aunt Zhao returned, the fire on the stove had already gone out. Now that the food was ready, she was waiting for Fang Zheng and the girl to come home.

Fang Zheng brought the girl and their packages straight into the kitchen, laying all the food on the stove. “Aunt, these are some things to eat, and here’s the braised chicken leg Yaya wanted. Please heat it up for her—she can hardly wait. And these are the herbs Old Shen prescribed for her.” As he spoke, Fang Zheng pointed to a paper packet. He then bent down and playfully tapped the girl’s nose, making her wrinkle her delicate brows in mock annoyance, her usual lively spirit returning.

With that, Fang Zheng took the girl and the bundle of new clothes out of the kitchen. “Yaya, go change into your new clothes. When you’re done, show Brother how pretty you look.”

Fang Zheng handed her the bundle, and the little girl took it gleefully to her room to change. Watching her go, a gentle smile appeared on Fang Zheng’s face.

Aunt Zhao had already set the table, in the same spot as yesterday, but today’s fare was richer, with all the meats Fang Zheng had bought. “Aunt, please decoct that packet of medicine later, and give it to Yaya after she eats. Old Shen said to use cold water, boil it three times, and give it to her once a day. Tomorrow, you needn’t go to the mountains. Take care of Yaya. I plan to go into the hills tomorrow to hunt some game. From now on, I’ll take care of earning money.”

At the table, Fang Zheng spoke as he ate. The little girl, dressed in her new clothes and having received praise from both Fang Zheng and Aunt Zhao, was already back to her lively self. Hearing Fang Zheng’s words, her bright eyes fixed on him, sparkling with excitement.

“But how can that be? You’ve just arrived here and don’t know the area. Besides, you only woke up yesterday—better to rest at home for a few days,” Aunt Zhao protested.

Fang Zheng smiled. “Don’t worry. Old Shen checked my body—he said I’m in great shape. And while I’m not familiar with everything, I’ve been through Wild Dog Slope before. There are plenty of beasts there, so I should have some luck. Let me try first—if it doesn’t work out, we’ll think of something else.” He didn’t make any grand promises; this was, after all, his first time, and boasting would only embarrass him if he failed. Aunt Zhao, understanding his resolve, agreed and only cautioned him to be careful and not to venture too deep into the forest.

After the meal, Fang Zheng played with Yaya in the courtyard until dusk. As the sky darkened and the girl grew sleepy, Fang Zheng asked Aunt Zhao to take her inside for her medicine and to rest. He returned to his room to organize his thoughts regarding his cultivation.

He first brought out the booklet Old Shen had gifted him. It was only the size of his palm and less than half an inch thick, light as a feather. The black cover bore three archaic characters: “Sword Control Manual.” The book itself was clearly quite old.

Seeing the title, Fang Zheng felt a surge of excitement, recalling dramas from his old world where sword immortals soared through the skies, slaying foes from a thousand miles away. Yet, after eagerly flipping through it, he was somewhat disappointed. The so-called “Sword Control Manual” turned out to be a basic sword art, so fundamental it didn’t even have named forms. “Never mind—better to practice than not. You can’t become fat in one bite,” Fang Zheng comforted himself.

After putting away the booklet—since now was not the time to practice swordplay—Fang Zheng drew out the three pages from his breast and, by the light of the oil lamp, resumed his study…