24: Winter Manifestation

The cold winds of the twelfth lunar month were like knives, sweeping across the mountains of Jinzhong.

At the high altitudes of Yuntai Mountain, ordinary vegetation had long since lost its vitality, exposing iron-gray rocks and frozen earth. The villagers of Zhaojiaao Village wrapped themselves tightly in tattered padded coats, their exhaled breath instantly condensing into ice crystals. The icicles under the eaves hung three feet long, and the windlass of the old well at the village entrance was so frozen that it required boiling water to be poured over it before it would turn.

However, as people treaded along the frozen mountain path toward Qingfeng Temple, strange phenomena gradually began to occur.

Still two hundred paces from the temple, the piercing chill in the mountain wind quietly receded by thirty percent. The frost on the withered grass by the roadside was no longer so sharp, and the dry, cold texture in the air that scraped the throat had transformed into a crisp, slight coolness at some point.

After another hundred paces, the frozen ground beneath their feet actually gained some elasticity. In the rock crevices by the road, a few clumps of green, velvety moss incredibly sprouted—here in the deep mountains during the twelfth lunar month, where breath turned to ice.

By the time they reached the mountain gate, the scenery was as different as two separate seasons compared to the foot of the mountain.

Not a trace of ice or snow could be seen on the blue stone steps; a few stalks of unknown fine grass even peeked out from the stone gaps, their tips beaded with dewdrops rather than ice crystals. That ancient cypress tree, which had seen spring in its withered state, had not only kept its leaves but was now even more verdant and lush than in midsummer. Its gnarled branches stretched out like a canopy, and its leaves shimmered with an oily luster under the winter light, as if the entire tree were in its youth.

The two vegetable plots in the courtyard were an even more wondrous sight: the cabbage leaves were thick and emerald green, the radish tops were fresh and upright, and not a single frost bite could be seen on their edges. In the nearby field of heart-clearing grass, a faint pale-blue halo flowed like ripples of water, and its crisp fragrance, mixed with the slight scent of earth, actually reminded one of the mountain air when the spring thaw first begins.

Most miraculous of all was that Spirit Well. The blue stone around the well's rim was warm, and the water drawn up felt lukewarm to the touch. Its taste was crisp and sweet with a lingering aftertaste, not at all like a cold spring in the twelfth lunar month.

Inside and outside the entire temple, the temperature was nearly ten degrees higher than outside the mountains. The north wind became gentle upon reaching this place, and as it passed through the halls carrying the scent of vegetation, it actually possessed the charm of early spring.

“This... this...” The first old woman to step through the gate loosened her tightly wrapped scarf, her face full of disbelief. “Even my home's heated brick bed isn't this warm!”

“Look at that cypress tree! The leaves are so green they look like they could drip oil!”

“The well water is warm! Good heavens, the well water is warm in the middle of winter!”

The villagers gathered in the courtyard whispering, their gazes cast with awe toward the closed doors of the Main Hall. Zhao Desheng stood among the crowd and whispered to those around him, “In the early years when the old Abbot was here, the temple was also warmer than outside in winter, but how could it compare to this? This is Daoist Master Li having cultivated true ability.”

Everyone nodded one after another, their eyes growing increasingly pious as they looked toward the hall doors.

Naturally, they did not know that this “Spring Glow in the Winter Realm” was not a Divine Ability deliberately performed by Li Muchen, but rather the result of the natural convergence of three Destinies.

First, after several months of operation, the Spirit Gathering Formation had preliminarily merged with the mountain's terrain and ley lines. Spiritual Qi gathered like water in a marsh; though invisible and intangible, it possessed its own nourishing and harmonizing effects. During the cold winter, the eye of the formation was just like a hot spring in a snowy field, with the earth's Qi rising warmly, naturally repelling the cold.

Second, the ancient cypress tree had been nourished by True Essence and the spirit spring for half a year, long ago transcending the limits of ordinary wood. The wood-elemental Qi flowed abundantly within the tree's body, and the breathing of its branches and leaves formed its own cycle. Not only did it not fear the severe cold, but it also inversely nourished the surrounding soil and water. This revived ancient tree was itself a natural “stove.”

Third, and most crucial—Li Muchen had just achieved the Late Stage of Foundation Establishment.

His True Essence had turned to gold, and his Dual Cultivation of nature and life had reached a new realm. His Physical Body's blood and Qi were like an unquenchable furnace, and a natural warmth flowed during his daily breathing exercises. Furthermore, his Purple Mansion's Spiritual Sense had expanded to fifty zhang; wherever his intent reached, it invisibly resonated with the temple's Qi. He did not need to act deliberately; the mere flow of Dao charms during his sitting and walking was like the sun hanging in the sky, naturally warming the local land.

The superposition of these three factors created this isolated island of spring in the deep winter mountains.

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Li Muchen did not say much regarding the villagers' amazement, continuing to sweep and chant sutras daily while receiving pilgrims. The villagers' awe deepened by the day, and their offerings of incense became increasingly diligent. The incense at the nameless shrine at the foot of the mountain actually increased by thirty percent during this cold winter month, as people from other villages would occasionally travel through the snow just to kowtow a few times before the shrine.

Strands of Power Of Will gathered from all directions; though chaotic and weak, after being preliminarily refined by the Dao Foundation, they were like spring rain nourishing crops, moisturizing his cultivation Foundation.

Time in the mountains flowed quietly within this warm island until mid-winter, when a true test arrived.

At dusk that day, the sky suddenly changed.

Lead-gray clouds swept in from the northern sky, instantly obscuring the setting sun. The mountain wind abruptly turned fierce, its howling like ten thousand horses galloping across a wasteland, the sound of snapping withered branches outside the mountains echoing incessantly. The moisture in the air was so heavy it could be wrung out, and the chill was bone-piercing—a sign that a blizzard was coming.

Li Muchen stood before the hall, looking up at the horizon.

His Late Stage Foundation Establishment Spiritual Sense could already clearly perceive the changes in the world's Qi: deep within the clouds, water-elemental Qi surged like a tide, clashing and merging with the Gengjin killing Qi coming from the north, brewing a great snowstorm not seen in ten years.

He looked at the greenery in the courtyard. Although the Spirit Gathering Formation and the ancient cypress tree could regulate the microclimate, if they encountered such a blizzard, with snow a foot deep and the chill penetrating the ground, the vegetable plots and heart-clearing grass would inevitably suffer damage.

With a slight shift of thought, he slowly raised his right hand.

His palm turned upward, fingers slightly spread as if cradling an invisible cup. Within his Dantian, that drop of True Essence Golden Liquid separated a strand of golden light as thin as gossamer, which traveled up his Meridians to his palm. Simultaneously, his Purple Mansion Spiritual Sense connected the vast wood Qi of the ancient cypress tree and the warm water intent of the Spirit Well; the three quietly merged in his palm.

There were no incantations, no seals.

Li Muchen simply took this energy—a fusion of the Golden Liquid's Origin, the vitality of plants, and the warmth of the water veins—and used his own Dao charm as a guide to gently “send” it into the Qi circulation above the temple.

The movement was as light as brushing away dust, yet it harmonized with the rhythms of heaven and earth.

The energy dissipated into the Void Realm, not forming a barrier or shield, but instead transforming into countless invisible “vortices,” combing through the Qi of the impending snow clouds like a spring breeze combing through willow branches. It did not resist the wind and snow, but rather guided, diffused, and harmonized them—

Allowing the dense snowflakes to naturally disperse upon touching the space above the temple,

Allowing the bone-piercing cold wind to shed thirty percent of its sharpness as it swept over the eaves,

And allowing the warmth deep within the ley lines to rise and dissipate more smoothly.

This was not a great Divine Ability that changed the world, but merely a subtle adjustment following the natural trend, like an old farmer covering a seedling with a thin layer of grass on a snowy night—following the timing of heaven and doing one's best as a human.

Having done all this, Li Muchen withdrew his hand and returned to the hall, sitting in quiet meditation as usual.

When night fully descended, the first snowflake finally fell.

At first, it was just a few scattered spots, but it soon turned into fluttering goose feathers. The north wind roared with snow spray, and the mountains and fields quickly became a vast expanse of white. The sound of snow pressing on the rafters came from the roofs of Zhaojiaao Village, and the old well at the village entrance froze solid.

Yet above Qingfeng Temple, the falling snow was subtly different.

The dense curtain of snow seemed to have been combed by an invisible hand here, becoming sparse and orderly. The snowflakes no longer fell straight down but swirled and drifted lightly. When they landed in the courtyard, they had turned into fine snow dust, spreading out evenly.

The branches and leaves of the ancient cypress tree bore only a thin layer of silver makeup, with its green still showing through the gaps in the snow. The snow on the vegetable plots and heart-clearing grass was less than an inch thick and was as soft as fluff, not weighing down the stems or leaves.

The cold wind passed through the courtyard with a much softer sound, and the snow spray it kicked up swirled under the corridors, slow to settle.

After a night of blizzard, the snow outside the mountains was a foot deep.

Inside the temple courtyard, the snow did not even reach the ankles.

At dawn the next day, the snow stopped and the clouds cleared.

The first light of morning shone, and the thousands of mountains and valleys were clad in silver, the reflection of the snow so bright it was hard to keep one's eyes open. The villagers of Zhaojiaao Village pushed open their wooden doors, which were half-blocked by snow, and stared blankly at the world of white light.

And when they treaded through knee-deep snow and painstakingly climbed to Qingfeng Temple, the sight they saw left everyone standing frozen at the mountain gate, speechless for a long time.

The blue stone steps were swept perfectly clean, with only a thin line of snow along the edges as decoration. The snow in the courtyard was spread evenly, no more than three inches at its thickest, and it was soft and fluffy. The ancient cypress tree had shaken off its silver makeup, revealing its verdant true form, with birds even chirping among its branches. The vegetable plots were as green as ever, the heart-clearing grass field shimmered with blue light, and warm mist curled from the mouth of the well.

Inside and outside the temple, the divide between winter and spring was as stark as a painting.

“The... the snow went around the temple?” an old man asked with a trembling voice.

“It didn't go around.” Zhao Desheng took a deep breath and pointed to the even layer of thin snow in the courtyard. “The snow fell here and then seventy or eighty percent of it melted on its own.”

Everyone looked closely and indeed saw that the snow grew thicker toward the edges of the courtyard and thinner toward the center, as if an invisible stove were warming the ground.

It was unknown who was the first to kneel.

Then a second, a third... Before the mountain gate, the villagers prostrated themselves and kowtowed, their foreheads touching the warm blue stone ground, their hearts filled with awe as if facing a deity. They did not understand anything about Spirit Gathering Formations or True Essence Golden Liquid; they only knew that after this mid-winter blizzard, the whole mountain was white while only this temple remained green—if this wasn't a miracle, what was?

The news spread throughout the neighboring villages and townships that very afternoon.

“At Qingfeng Temple on Yuntai Mountain, the plants stay green in winter, and the great snow does not invade”—all sorts of rumors were embellished and spread, becoming more and more mystical. Some said the Abbot was Ancestor Lu reincarnated, some said the temple was built on a Fire Dragon Lair, and some elders even swore they had seen the Abbot wave his hand to repel the wind and snow.

The reputation of Qingfeng Temple and Li Muchen reached a new peak after this great snow.

Inside the Main Hall, Li Muchen slowly opened his eyes.

In his Spiritual Sense, the sight of the villagers kneeling outside the mountain gate was as clear as if he were seeing it with his own eyes. He shook his head gently, showing no sign of pride.

Last night's casting was less a “manifestation” and more a verification of his cultivation. The subtle harmonization of the world's Qi by the True Essence Golden Liquid and the detailed perception of natural rhythms by his Spiritual Sense and mental power had all been refined during that gentle lift of his hand.

The path of cultivation was originally found within these ordinary daily matters.

He stood up and pushed open the door; the warm winter sun poured in, illuminating the dust in the hall like floating gold powder.

The thin snow in the courtyard was quietly melting in the warmth, the snowmelt seeping into the cracks of the blue stones and nourishing those few stalks of unknown fine grass. The ancient cypress branches swayed lightly, shaking off the last few crystals of snow, which blossomed into rainbows in the sunlight.

The mountain wind brought the crisp scent of the distant snowy fields, and it also brought the increasingly flourishing Power Of Will from the foot of the mountain.

Li Muchen stood under the eaves with his hands behind his back, looking toward the vast, snowy ridges.

Winter stores vitality, quietly waiting for spring to bloom.

And his path of cultivation was just like this deep mountain temple—hearing thunder in the silence, and seeing the True Essence within the mundane.