25: Reshaping the divine form, the Daoist essence is naturally formed.

On the third day after the snow cleared, footprints on the mountain path were as dense as a woven web.

News of Qingfeng Temple being as warm as spring in winter had spread across the hundred-mile radius of Yuntai Town like wind through a forest. At first, it was the astonishment of Zhaojiaao Village villagers, followed by the skepticism of outsiders, but once those who tread through the snow saw the divide between winter and spring inside and outside the mountain gate with their own eyes, the rumors were confirmed as a divine miracle.

Thus, pilgrims surged in like a tide.

There were villagers wrapped in tattered padded jackets, climbing the stone steps one slip at a time just to kowtow before the temple; there were merchants from town who hired litters to carry their elderly parents to pray for peace; there were even groups of young people carrying cameras, claiming to be "collecting folk material," yet their eyes were filled with inquiry and awe.

Before the nameless shrine at the foot of the mountain, the incense smoke never ceased throughout the day. Coarse yellow paper burned into blue smoke, and low-quality incense sticks filled ceramic jars. Offerings, ranging from mountain fruits and steamed buns to candies and pastries, were piled up in layers, almost obscuring the rough stone. Every morning, villagers voluntarily cleared the ashes, and the newly replaced incense would burn out again before noon.

Inside the temple courtyard, the crowd was solemn, as if they were in a God Realm.

No one spoke loudly, and no one pushed. Pilgrims stepped forward in turn, kneeling devoutly beneath the stone steps outside the hall, inserting incense sticks into the iron tripod before the hall doors, then carefully taking spirit well water from bamboo tubes under the corridor—the water felt warm to the touch and was said to cure minor illnesses and dispel evil Qi. When leaving, they passed by the ancient cypress tree and vegetable patches, all lightening their steps, their gazes as reverent as if they were beholding sacred objects.

This scene lasted for half a month, and the Power Of Will from the incense had become as thick as mist.

Li Muchen sat quietly in the hall every day, sensing the surging tide of Power Of Will within his Spiritual Sense. Though it remained mixed—with the greed of those seeking wealth, the anxiety of those praying for peace, the gratitude of those fulfilling vows, and the curiosity of those who came purely for its reputation—the total amount was immense, incomparable to before.

He needed to divert a portion of his mind to circulate his Dao Foundation and slowly refine this Power Of Will. The mixed desires and obsessions were washed away by the light of Karma, while the pure Power Of Faith seeped into his Dao Foundation like spring rain, nourishing the Purple Mansion's spiritual platform and creating a subtle resonance with the land beneath his feet. He vaguely felt as if invisible roots were interweaving and growing between himself, this mountain, and this temple.

Once fame has risen, it is difficult to remain hidden deep in the mountains.

Li Muchen's heart was clear: rather than forcibly suppressing it, it was better to go with the flow. Qingfeng Temple had already become a Daoist site, so it should possess the atmosphere of one. And the foundation of a Daoist site lies in "having both form and spirit."

"Form" could wait—repairing the halls required craftsmen and Materials, and the commotion would be too great.

But the "Spirit" must be established.

This "Spirit" was that broken divine statue in the hall. The painted colors were peeling like sores, half the head was missing, and the broken arms revealed a withered straw and mud core. For such a Dharma Image to receive the incense of all living beings was not only disrespectful, but over time, if the mixed Power Of Will had nowhere to reside, it might breed impurity.

Reshaping the golden body and performing the eye-opening ceremony was now an urgent priority.

In Daoist statue-making, the emphasis is on "Consecration." Ordinary craftsmen shape the form, while high-level masters awaken the spirit. By using magical power and incantations to channel the natural dao rhyme or the intent of deities into the statue, the mud and wood puppet can then carry faith and manifest divine power.

Li Muchen considered that given the withered state of Daoist arts in this world, he might not necessarily be able to channel a specific deity. However, with his Foundation Establishment Late Stage cultivation, his true essence turned to gold, his robust Spiritual Sense, and the blessing of Karma and incense, he might try to channel a more fundamental "dao rhyme," or even use his own Dao Foundation as a guide to mold a "Protector Spirit Sovereign" that suited Qingfeng Temple.

As soon as this thought arose, his Dao Heart stirred slightly, indicating a sense of alignment.

Having made the decision, he began his preparations.

He did not invite outside craftsmen, deciding to do it himself. Firstly, for precise control, and secondly, to avoid unnecessary complications.

For Materials, his first choice was the main trunk of the thunder-struck wood behind the temple. This wood had been dead for many years, yet the wood itself had not rotted; its texture was as dense as iron, and even more rare was the faint lingering charm of heavenly thunder within, masculine and warding off evil—it was truly fine material for a statue. He also went deep into the mountains to fetch pure clay, collected Blue Mud from the depths of the Spirit Well, and finely sifted the daily incense ash, mixing it with heart-clearing grass powder.

The preparation lasted seven days.

He refined the thunder-struck wood with true essence, stimulating that trace of thunderous Yang Qi to the surface, causing the wood to give off a faint purple luster. The clay, Blue Mud, and incense ash were mixed with spirit well water and pounded nine times until the mud felt warm in his hands, faintly emitting a pure and clean aura.

On this day, the first light of dawn broke through.

Li Muchen cleared a clean space in the Main Hall and laid down a Calming and Purifying Talisman Formation—now, the Talismans he drew could trigger the natural Qi of heaven and earth. Although their effectiveness was still slight, they were incomparable to before. He then sat cross-legged on the cold jade meditation cushion, closing his eyes to concentrate.

Half an hour later, he opened his eyes and began.

He had no carving knife; his ten fingers were his tools. True essence condensed at his fingertips, sharp enough to cut gold and jade, yet soft enough to smooth out tiny marks. First, he shaped the general outline with the thunder-struck wood: a Daoist sitting on a lotus platform, robes draping down, with an ancient face. He did not seek to resemble any specific god, but rather captured the elegant aura of a "Man of the Dao."

Once the wooden structure was complete, he began applying the mud.

The Spiritual Mud felt slightly cool in his hands. Li Muchen placed both palms on it, and his true essence seeped in like silk. When shaping the features, he visualized the "Supreme Wuwei" image from the Supreme Clarity Purple Mansion Returning to Origin True Scripture; when shaping the sleeves, his thoughts flowed naturally like clouds and water. He silently recited scriptures, each true word passing into the mud core along with his true essence.

In the hall, there was only the slight friction of the mud being shaped, mixed with the barely audible rhythm of the scriptures.

The mud statue gradually took shape, about three feet tall. Its expression was peaceful and solemn, with no harshness in the brows, but rather a profound depth that encompassed all things; the corners of the mouth were slightly raised as if containing compassion, yet also showing a calmness that had seen through life and death. The patterns of the robes flowed like water, and between the folds, it seemed as if a clear breeze resided permanently.

The form was complete, but the spirit was not yet born.

Li Muchen rose solemnly and stood three steps before the mud statue.

He bit his left index finger, and a drop of essence blood seeped out—the crimson blood contained a faint golden light, holding within it the life Origin and Dao Foundation aura of a Foundation Establishment Cultivator. He used the blood as ink and drew in the air.

Wherever his fingertip passed, pale golden runes appeared out of thin air.

The first fell on the brow: "Open the Spiritual Aperture, clear the Mysterious Pass";

The second fell on the eyes: "Dot the Wisdom Eye, observe the three thousand worlds";

The third fell on the heart: "Enshrine the true spirit, receive the Power Of Will";

The fourth fell on the Dantian: "Solidify the Origin, stabilize the mountains and rivers."

Once the four main runes were complete, eight auxiliary runes were derived and imprinted on the statue's limbs and bones. With each rune that fell, the mud statue vibrated once, and the precious light on its surface flowed even more intensely. That restrained dao rhyme, like a sprouting seed, gradually awakened.

"Heaven and earth are natural, the foul Qi disperses... Divine spirits of the eight directions, let me be natural!"

The incantation was not loud, but every word was like a hammer striking a bell, creating invisible ripples in the hall. When the last word left his mouth, the twelve runes lit up simultaneously, interweaving into a net and sinking into the mud statue's body.

A moment of silence.

Then—

"Buzz..."

A low hum came from deep within the mud statue, initially like a distant mountain bell, then gradually like spring thunder rolling across the ground. The entire mud sculpture erupted with clear light, within which golden runes were faintly visible, flowing like Dragons! There was no wind in the hall, yet the Daoist's sleeves seemed to flutter slightly; beneath the lotus platform, faint shadows of cloud Qi actually rose!

At the eyes of the mud statue, precious light condensed. Although it was still a mud core without pupils, it suddenly gained "spirit"—it was a gaze both inclusive and majestic, like the heavens looking down, like the earth carrying all, like the Dao descending to the mortal world.

The clear light quickly retracted, and the runes hid within the mud core. After a few breaths, all the anomalies settled.

At first glance, it was still that mud statue, but a closer look revealed it was entirely different. The wood was as warm as ancient jade, the mud core held an internal precious light, and especially those eyes—looking at them made one's heart calm and mind peaceful, instantly dispelling distracting thoughts. Furthermore, a balanced and peaceful "divine charm" naturally radiated, echoing with the Spirit Gathering Formation outside the hall, resonating with the vitality of the ancient cypress tree, blending with the moisture of the Spirit Well, and faintly connecting with the surging Power Of Will from down the mountain.

Almost simultaneously, Li Muchen's Purple Mansion shook.

His Spiritual Sense "saw" an imperceptible ripple spread out in the invisible space above Qingfeng Temple, creating a momentary connection with a grand existence in the unknown—perhaps the Heavenly Dao, perhaps the Origin of the Great Dao.

A trace of pure dao rhyme, like sweet rain from heaven, merged into the mud statue, and a strand of it fed back along that invisible connection, nourishing his Dao Foundation.

The Consecration was a success!

This divine statue was no longer an ordinary Dharma Image. With thunder-struck wood as its bones, Spiritual Mud as its flesh, Li Muchen's essence blood and dao rhyme as its soul, and the natural Dao intent as its spirit, it further gathered the incense Power Of Will of Qingfeng Temple as its Qi. It was both the guardian deity of the temple and a unique existence formed by the fusion of Li Muchen's cultivation and the Power Of Will of all living beings—a "Protector Spirit Sovereign" in its early form.

Li Muchen stood quietly before the statue, feeling that subtle connection.

Between him and the statue, there was a sense of being connected by blood; between the statue and the temple, it was as if it were rooted in the earth; between the temple and the pilgrims, the Power Of Will flowed like rivers returning to the sea. An invisible web centered on Qingfeng Temple was slowly being woven.

Suddenly, there was a commotion outside the hall.

It turned out that several pilgrims who had come from afar felt their minds clear the moment they stepped into the mountain gate. Upon seeing the newly molded divine statue in the hall, they involuntarily knelt down. They couldn't explain why; they just felt the mud statue was solemn and intimate, as if it had been worshipped for many years.

The news spread like wildfire.

"Daoist Master Li of Qingfeng Temple personally molded a divine statue, and on the day of Consecration, the whole hall was filled with light!"

"Just looking at that statue makes one's heart calm; it must have been blessed by a True God!"

"We must go and worship; I heard it's very effective..."

On the mountain path, the figures became even more dense.

Li Muchen turned to look at the fine snow fluttering outside the hall, his gaze calm.

Now that the golden body was established, the Daoist site was initially formed.

From this point on, Qingfeng Temple had a soul.