4: Uninvited guests in the mountains

The sun gradually rose, and the mountain mist dissipated, revealing a clear blue sky. The barren mountain remained silent, but inside and outside Qingfeng Temple, there were already some subtle changes.

After Li Muchen finished sweeping the stone steps, he tried using that clumsy Dust-Cleaning Technique along with a rag to clean the door frames and window lattices of the main hall.

Although his control of True Qi was still awkward and left him covered in dust, at least the visible areas were much cleaner and tidier. Sunlight leaked through the holes in the roof, and there were fewer scenes of dust dancing in the shafts of light, though those holes now appeared even more glaring.

He stopped and sat cross-legged on the stone steps he had just cleaned, regulating his breathing to recover his consumed True Qi. With the experience of entering the Dao last night and the constant replenishment from the spirit well water, his recovery speed had increased significantly. Within his Dantian Qi Sea, the warm vortex of True Qi rotated slowly, becoming a bit more solid than it was the previous night.

“It seems that daily labor and the use of True Qi are also a form of Cultivation,” Li Muchen realized. However, the efficiency was lower than sitting in meditation with the Basic Guidance Technique, and it consumed more mental energy.

His stomach protested once again. The wild fruits were long gone, and a strong sense of hunger began to set in. True Qi could alleviate fatigue and nourish the body, but ultimately, it could not completely replace food.

He had to go down the mountain. At the very least, he needed to get some grain and salt, as well as basic tools—a proper woodcutting knife, a shovel, a few changes of clothes, and some basic condiments. If possible, it would be best to get some tiles and lumber to plug the most critical holes in the main hall first; otherwise, a single heavy rain could wash away all his hard work.

But he was penniless.

The only thing of value... He looked at himself, then at the temple. Perhaps he could try the water from that Spirit Well? But how would he explain the water's abnormality? Say it was spring water? But this mountain was famously known for its lack of water.

While he was hesitating, a faint sound, different from the wind and birdsong, came from down the mountain.

It was the sound of human voices! There were also footsteps, crunching on gravel and dead branches, heading toward the temple.

Li Muchen’s heart tightened, and he immediately stood up. His True Qi circulated naturally, making his hearing and sight more acute. There was more than one person coming, their footsteps were slightly disorganized, and there seemed to be heavy breathing.

Who could it be? Nearby villagers? Or someone lost like he was yesterday?

He walked to the collapsed mountain gate and, using the cover of a half-broken earthen wall, looked down the path.

Before long, several figures appeared at the bend in the mountain path.

Leading them was a thin, white-haired old man carrying a large bamboo basket, dressed like a mountain dweller.

Following behind were three young people—two men and one woman—wearing brightly colored windbreakers and hiking boots, with bulging hiking backpacks and cameras hanging around their necks, looking like standard outdoor hikers.

One of the tall boys was supporting another slightly shorter and chubbier boy, who was limping with a pained expression on his face.

“...Old Uncle, how much further? Wang Hao can barely hold on,” the tall boy supporting his friend asked while panting, his voice full of anxiety.

“Almost there, almost there. Just around this bend, there's a dilapidated temple above where we can rest. The temple... sigh, no one has lived there for a long time, but at least there are four walls to block the wind.” The old mountain dweller pointed ahead, his voice raspy but his steps steady. The leaves and stems of herbs were faintly visible in his basket.

“A temple?” the girl asked, holding her phone, which seemed to be displaying a map. “The map doesn't show a temple here.”

“It’s been abandoned for decades, it wouldn't be on the map anymore,” the old mountain dweller shook his head. “When I was young, I met the old temple master; he was a capable man... Later, sigh.”

As they spoke, they had already drawn near.

Li Muchen no longer stayed hidden and stepped out from behind the mountain gate.

The sudden appearance of a figure startled the four visitors. The old mountain dweller instinctively took half a step back, squinting to size him up. The three young people were even more nervous, especially the injured one, who almost cried out.

“Who are you?” the old mountain dweller asked warily, his hand quietly moving toward the handle of the woodcutting knife behind his waist.

Li Muchen's appearance at the moment was indeed a bit... peculiar. He wore a set of faded, dust-covered old-style Taoist robes with the sleeves rolled up, and his face still had uncleaned streaks of dust. Standing before the collapsed gate and the dilapidated temple, he didn't look like a normal Taoist priest at all, but rather like a... down-and-out mountain keeper or a vagrant.

Li Muchen composed himself, trying to make his expression look peaceful. Following Taoist etiquette, he held one palm vertically in front of his chest and bowed slightly: “taoist greeting. This poor Taoist is Li Muchen, the new temple master of this Qingfeng Temple.”

“Temple master?” The old mountain dweller was stunned. He looked closely at Li Muchen, then at the temple plaque behind him where the outline was barely visible, a look of disbelief on his face. “This ruined temple... still has a master? Sent by the government?”

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“Something like that,” Li Muchen replied vaguely, his gaze falling on the chubby boy being supported. The boy's right ankle was clearly swollen, and with his pant leg partially rolled up, the skin could be seen to be purple and distended.

“What happened to him?”

“He fell, slipped down that slope over there and twisted his ankle. It seems quite serious; he can't move it,” the tall boy said quickly, his eyes pleading for help.

The old mountain dweller also looked at Li Muchen, the wariness in his eyes fading slightly, replaced by a bit of scrutiny and curiosity: “Little... Temple Master, does your temple have a place to rest and tend to the injury? This kid is in a lot of pain, he needs to be looked at quickly.”

“Yes, please follow this poor Taoist.” Li Muchen stepped aside, leading them through the overgrown courtyard.

Entering the courtyard, the sight of the ruins caused another round of low exclamations from the three young people. The collapsed side halls, the roofless main hall, the weeds everywhere... this was ten times more dilapidated than the “ruined temple” they had imagined.

The old mountain dweller didn't react much, but his gaze paused for a moment when it swept over the well. The damp marks around the well curb and the broken clay jar indicated that this well seemed to be in use.

Li Muchen brought them to the main hall he had cleaned last night. Although it was still empty and dilapidated, at least the floor and the area around the altar were fairly clean, free of accumulated dust and bird droppings.

“The conditions are simple; please sit, Lay Practitioners.” Li Muchen pointed to the relatively clean floor in front of the altar.

The tall boy and the girl carefully helped their injured companion sit down. As soon as the injured boy touched the ground, he grimaced in pain, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

The old mountain dweller set down his basket, knelt, and checked the injured boy's ankle. His rough fingers lightly pressed the swelling, and the boy immediately sucked in a breath of cold air.

“It’s a bad twist, the tendons might be damaged, and the bone... hard to say,” the old mountain dweller shook his head. “We need to get down the mountain to find a doctor quickly; it might be trouble if we wait too long.”

“But he can't walk the mountain path at all right now!” the girl said anxiously. “Carrying him down such a steep path is too dangerous!”

The tall boy also had a worried face: “The first-aid kit we brought only has some iodine and bandages; even the painkillers he took aren't working.”

The old mountain dweller frowned and looked at Li Muchen: “Temple Master, do you have... any local remedies or herbs that can temporarily stop the pain? I'll give him some simple treatment to stabilize the injury first, then find a way to get him down the mountain.”

Li Muchen shook his head: “There are no herbs in the temple.” He paused, looking at the pained expression of the injured boy, and felt a stir in his heart.

Perhaps... he could try True Qi?

Among the small techniques included with the Basic Guidance Technique, there was one called ‘Qi Guidance and Meridian Clearing.’ It was originally used to clear one's own meridians when they occasionally became blocked during cultivation, based on the principle of using gentle True Qi to guide away blockages and promote the flow of Qi and blood. Used on a swollen sprain, it should theoretically have the effect of invigorating blood, dispersing stasis, and relieving pain.

However, he had never performed it on anyone else, and his control of True Qi outside his body was already clumsy. If he wasn't careful, he might worsen the injury.

But seeing the injured boy's increasingly pale face and hearing his suppressed groans of pain, Li Muchen knew he couldn't just stand by. Besides, this was an opportunity to connect with the outside world, verify what he had learned, and perhaps build some good karma.

“This poor Taoist knows a bit of the methods of massage and Qi guidance; perhaps I can try to relieve the pain and clear the Qi and blood,” Li Muchen spoke, his tone calm but carrying a steadiness that made people involuntarily trust him. This was perhaps a subtle change in his temperament naturally produced under the nourishment of True Qi.

The old mountain dweller and the three young people were all stunned for a moment.

“Massage? Here?” the girl asked somewhat skeptically.

“Might as well treat a dead horse like a living one; it’s better than just letting him suffer,” the old mountain dweller said decisively. He was full of curiosity about this temple and this young temple master. “Temple Master, how should we cooperate?”

“Just let him relax and expose the injury.”

Li Muchen walked in front of the injured boy and knelt. The injured boy—the one named Wang Hao—looked at him somewhat nervously.

“It might feel a bit swollen and painful, bear with it.” After Li Muchen finished speaking, he extended his right hand and hovered it about an inch above the swollen ankle.

He closed his eyes, concentrated his mind, and slowly mobilized the True Qi in his body, running it according to the ‘Qi Guidance and Meridian Clearing’ technique. This time, he was exceptionally careful, only releasing an extremely minute wisp of True Qi, slowly letting it permeate through his palm.

The thin, almost invisible True Qi was like the gentlest warm current, enveloping the injury.

Wang Hao first felt a wave of coolness at the injury, and then, an indescribable, gentle warmth seeped in. Wherever that warmth passed, the originally burning pain and feeling of pressure actually began to ease! It was as if a warm hand was gently rubbing away the congestion inside.

“Huh?” He couldn't help but let out a small sound of surprise.

Li Muchen focused all his attention, controlling that wisp of True Qi, carefully avoiding the muscles and bones that might be damaged, only circulating and guiding it through the swollen flesh and the blocked Qi and blood meridians.

This was an extremely delicate task, more than ten times harder than practicing the Dust-Cleaning Technique. In a short while, fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his mental energy was heavily consumed.

After about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, Li Muchen felt his True Qi was nearly half-depleted and his mind was a bit exhausted, so he slowly withdrew his hand.

He opened his eyes and looked at the injury.

The swelling remained, but the originally purple and shiny skin seemed a bit lighter in color and was no longer as tight.

“How do you feel?” Li Muchen asked, his voice slightly weak.

Wang Hao moved his ankle and a look of pleasant surprise appeared on his face: “It seems... not that painful anymore! Although it's still swollen, it's not so agonizing when I move it! Just now it felt like many needles were stabbing inside, but now it feels much looser! Temple Master, your technique is divine!”

The tall boy and the girl also crowded around to look and indeed found that the color of the injury had softened.

The old mountain dweller had been staring intently at Li Muchen’s movements and the changes in the injury. At this moment, a sharp light flashed in his eyes as he sized up Li Muchen, as if getting to know this young temple master all over again. He gathered herbs year-round and knew a bit about traumatic injuries; he could naturally see that this sprain was not light. Simple massage could never have such a clear relieving effect in such a short amount of time.

This young Taoist was not simple! Could he really know some skills passed down from the old temple master?

“Good methods, Temple Master!” Zhao Desheng praised, his tone much more respectful. “This old man is Zhao Desheng, from Zhaojiaao Village down the mountain. I often gather herbs in these mountains; I didn't expect that a high-level person had truly returned to this Qingfeng Temple.”

“Old Uncle Zhao overpraises me; it’s just some minor skills,” Li Muchen said humbly, secretly regulating his breathing to recover. The performance just now gave him new insights into the fine control of True Qi; although the consumption was large, the harvest was also not small.

“This is no minor skill.” Zhao Desheng shook his head, then looked at the time. “Temple Master, this kid's injury is temporarily stabilized, but he still needs to go down the mountain for treatment. We'll get ready to set off now. Thank you for your help today, Temple Master!”

The three young people also hurriedly thanked him, especially Wang Hao, whose gratitude was beyond words.

The tall boy pulled a wallet out of his backpack, took out several hundred-yuan bills, and handed them to Li Muchen somewhat awkwardly: “Temple Master, a small token of our appreciation. Thank you for your help, and this is also to add some incense money to the temple.” Seeing how dilapidated the temple was and how the young temple master had stepped in to help, they wanted to show some gratitude.

Li Muchen looked at the red bills, and his heart stirred. This was exactly what he urgently needed! But after a brief hesitation, he did not immediately take them.

“The Lay Practitioner is too kind. Helping others is part of my duty; there’s no need for this,” he declined, but his gaze drifted seemingly unintentionally toward the herbs in Zhao Desheng’s basket and the bulging backpacks of the three young people. “If you are so inclined, the temple has just been re-established and everything is waiting to be rebuilt; we are indeed lacking some daily necessities...”

Zhao Desheng, an old fox, immediately understood Li Muchen’s meaning. This temple master wasn't that he didn't like money, but that he lacked practical things even more.

“The Temple Master is right!” Zhao Desheng slapped his thigh. “Giving money is too vulgar! Xiao Zhang, do you have any extra food or water in your bags? Or small tools? I also have some freshly gathered herbs in this basket, several of which are for invigorating blood and dispersing stasis, I'll leave them for the Temple Master, they might be useful.”

Hearing this, the three young people also thought it made sense. They were out hiking and had brought plenty of supplies. The tall boy, Xiao Zhang, immediately opened his backpack and pulled out several packs of compressed biscuits, a few energy bars, two unopened bottles of mineral water, and a multi-functional army knife.

The girl also contributed a pack of unopened wet wipes and a small bottle of medical alcohol. Wang Hao insisted on taking out all the remaining change in his wallet, which was also a few dozen yuan.

Zhao Desheng also picked out several handfuls of dried herbs from his basket, wrapped them in oil paper, and handed them to Li Muchen: “These are Panax Notoginseng and Safflower; they are good for invigorating blood and removing stasis when crushed and applied externally.”

Li Muchen did not decline this time and took them solemnly: “Thank you, Lay Practitioners. These have indeed solved this poor Taoist's urgent needs.”

He did not take the money, only the physical items. This not only solved his immediate food and tool problems but also made him seem less materialistic, establishing good karma rather than a transaction.

Seeing this, Zhao Desheng’s estimation of Li Muchen rose another level. This young temple master handled things with propriety and didn't seem like someone who hadn't seen the world.

The group rested for a few more moments. After the guidance of Li Muchen’s True Qi, Wang Hao’s foot was much less painful, and he could barely walk slowly with support. Zhao Desheng was familiar with the mountain paths and decided to lead them down a slightly gentler but longer path.

Before leaving, Zhao Desheng stood at the mountain gate, looked back at the temple, then at Li Muchen, and seemed to want to say something but stopped. Finally, he just said: “Temple Master, this mountain... this temple, I'm afraid it's going to get lively in the future. Take care of yourself. If I have time, I'll come to see you again.”

“taoist greeting. Old Uncle Zhao, Lay Practitioners, be careful on your way.” Li Muchen saw them off with a ritual gesture.

Watching the four of them supporting each other as they slowly disappeared at the end of the rugged mountain path, Li Muchen turned around and looked at the pile of things in his arms—food, water, a knife, medicine, and herbs.

Although it wasn't much, it gave him the true confidence to establish himself on this barren mountain.

He walked back into the courtyard, his gaze sweeping over the new sprouts of the ancient cypress, the Spirit Well, and the patch of land where he had sown the heart-clearing grass seeds.

Life in the mountains no longer seemed so lonely.

And what he didn't know was that down the mountain, news about a “young and powerful Taoist coming to the abandoned temple on Yuntai Mountain” had already begun to quietly spread through Zhaojiaao Village and the small circle of those three hikers.