Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, but Thunderbolt Taoist Sect

Laoshan Mountain has more than one mountain peak, and there is more than one Taoist temple where extraordinary people live. Wang Qilang only climbed one of the lower peaks. In addition, his family had some resources, so he could travel by carriage directly from the foot of the mountain, making the round trip relatively easy.

Wang Qilang excitedly ran home and told his family that he had received permission from an immortal to go up the mountain to cultivate immortality. Then, ignoring everyone's advice, he quickly packed his luggage and rushed out of the house, not giving his family a moment to speak.

Because this guy had been talking about seeking immortality since he was a child, and if he couldn't be kept in check, he would go looking for some kind of immortal. For this, Wang Qilang's father had scolded and beaten him countless times. Born into an official family, Wang's father naturally hoped that he would study hard, pass the imperial examination, and shine in the officialdom.

As a result, he had a son who was obsessed with Taoist arts. When he was young, they could control him, but now that he's grown up, married, and has a family, no one can stop him.

Moreover, this wasn't the first time Wang Qilang had gone to Laoshan, and he had never seen the legendary immortals. Everyone thought that this time, he would suffer a small setback first, behave himself for a while, and then repeat the same pattern.

Who would have thought that today would be different? When Wang Qilang returned, he said that he had been favored by an immortal. Then he packed his bags and left without looking back.

As evening fell, the old Taoist's disciples gathered in the temple. They were dressed similarly to their master, in the simplest Taoist robes, with their hair casually tied in buns, and they looked very energetic.

At this moment, there were two people in the temple whose attire was out of place. One was Wang Qilang, who stood with the Taoist disciples and greeted each other. Wang Qilang was still wearing the same brocade robes as before. Judging from his appearance, it was clear that he was a pampered young master who was not suitable for this secluded place of cultivation in the mountains.

The other person stood alongside the old Taoist priest, clearly of higher status than these disciples. Wang Qilang recognized him as the Taoist temple guest he had seen once before.

The other person was dressed more conspicuously than Wang Qilang, and was more like the immortal image that Wang Qilang had constructed through storybooks and storytellers. Apart from his unusual hair color, this person exuded the aura of a hermit master.

"Who is that?"

Seeing the man standing beside the old Taoist priest, eyes half-closed and silent, Wang Qilang held back for a while, but finally couldn't help asking the fellow disciples he had just met.

After all, it's really hard to ignore someone with such an appearance, especially for someone like Wang Qilang who has been obsessed with Taoist arts since childhood and dreams of becoming an immortal. Just by looking at that person, Wang Qilang's thoughts can't help but drift towards him.

Seeing Wang Qilang's appearance, the young Taoist priests nearby predicted that he wouldn't stay long. They said that during his years of cultivation in the mountains, people like Wang Qilang would appear after a while, obsessed with the legendary immortal arts and Taoist methods, rushing up the mountain on a whim, only wanting to learn pretty and fun things, and having no real sincerity.

However, they are still fellow disciples, and since the newly promoted junior disciple asked, they answered truthfully.

"That was Master's distinguished guest, said to be an immortal from beyond heaven and earth, whose Taoist name was Cang."

"...Just one word?"

Wang Qilang was puzzled. Based on his previous knowledge, Taoist priests' Taoist names were basically "So-and-so-zi", "So-and-so-shanren", "So-and-so-sanren", or "So-and-so-zhenren". He had never heard of a Taoist name that consisted of only one character.

Yes, just one word.

The young Taoist priests didn't react much to this matter. Most of them chose their Taoist names based on their personal interests, and there were no restrictions. However, after some Taoists became famous, people would add honorific titles to their Taoist names, and even confuse their Taoist names with each other. Many people's names have been changed, and the way they are called in the public and in their own community are different.

When Wang Qilang asked this question, they understood what he was wondering about, but it was too complicated to explain, so the junior brothers chose not to explain at all.

And so began Wang Qilang's cultivation journey. In the early hours of the next day, while he was still dreaming of riding the clouds and commanding the wind and rain, he was woken up by his new master. In a daze, he found himself holding an axe and was assigned to chop wood.

Having just successfully become an apprentice, Wang Qilang was still excited and obediently went to chop wood. However, he had never done heavy work before and didn't know how to use his strength. Several times he almost chopped himself or the people around him.

Wasn't he supposed to be learning Taoist magic? Why is he here as a woodcutter? Looking at the firewood he had chopped, which looked like it had been chewed by a dog, Wang Qilang had a question in his mind. This was not only different from the life of cultivating immortality that he had imagined, but it was also completely unrelated.

But seeing his fellow apprentices chopping away so quickly and skillfully, as if the wood in their hands obeyed their commands, Wang Qilang suppressed his doubts and picked up his axe again.

He swung the axe for a whole month, and the pampered young master developed thick calluses on his hands and feet as he chopped firewood for a month, enduring hardship and toil.

To be honest, Wang Qilang has suffered as much in the past month as he has in the previous decades. He came here to cultivate immortal techniques, so why did he end up chopping wood for a whole month without really understanding what was going on?

At that moment, melodious piano music rang in my ears again, sounding as if it were coming from the horizon.

Since the day he became a disciple, Wang Qilang had never seen the purple-robed Taoist named "Cang" again. He would only occasionally hear the sound of a zither coming from a certain direction. His fellow Taoist disciples said that this was the Taoist Master Cang playing the zither.

It is said that Master Cang came from beyond this world and came here on a whim. When the disciples were chopping wood and practicing their cultivation, the old Taoist would discuss Taoist theories and exchange Taoist techniques with them.

It is said that this Taoist priest Cang is known as the "head of the six strings" in his sect. He is skilled in music theory and can subdue demons with his personal stringed instruments. When you hear the sound of a zither, it means that his master and the other person are studying Taoist arts in their own way.

Playing the zither and discussing Taoism, his immortal techniques were extraordinary. Cang's actions in the Taoist temple were exactly what Wang Qilang had imagined and wanted. This was the future he had been envisioning before going to Laoshan.

Besides his unwillingness to endure the hardship of chopping wood, Wang Qilang also felt a pang of regret. He had become the old Taoist's apprentice and spent a month chopping wood. If he hadn't listened to the old Taoist's advice and followed the figure of the heavens to become the old Taoist's apprentice, he might not have been doing this tiring work for a month. Instead, he could have been learning music theory and practicing the way of the zither.

As he listened to the music, the image of Cang, dressed in dark purple, appeared in his mind. Wang Qilang couldn't take it anymore; he didn't want to chop wood and suffer such hardship anymore.

The place where the Taoist disciples were chopping wood was far from where the old Taoist and Cang were discussing Taoism. Filtered by the wind and the mountains and forests, they could only hear the melodious sound of the zither. Apart from praising the player's superb zither skills, they had no other understanding.

But the old Taoist priest, who was the main listener, sat opposite Cang and faced the sound of the zither directly. He was able to appreciate its mystery even more. Apart from the melodious tone and the extremely unique timbre, he found that his mind could feel the vibration every time Cang plucked a string, but no other mysterious power was injected into the sound of the zither.

The sheer power of the music alone to so deeply move the soul was a sight to behold for the old Taoist priest, who had lived for so many years. He had previously asked Cang how he achieved such an effect, only to receive a simple, "Naturally."

Old Taoist priest: No wonder you are a great being from another world!

Cang: It's hard to explain to you, since there's no electric guitar here.

Actually, Cang's first choice was not Laoshan. He originally wanted to go to the East Sea. After Tian Shanzi left, Ma Ji naturally married the Dragon Girl of the East Sea. But apart from the Great Rakshasa Kingdom, there are many special islands in the East Sea, including fairy islands and demon islands. It would be nice to go and take a look.

However, at that time, Liu Qingyuan had only known Daoist Shan for a short time. Thinking about the Daoists on Laoshan Mountain, he suggested that Cang come to Laoshan Mountain to give it a try. Given Cang's position and cultivation level, a place of cultivation like Laoshan Mountain would be suitable for him.

Cang himself was already in a semi-retired state when Liu Qingyuan suggested he come to Laoshan. So he came here, where he could discuss Taoism with others, watch the Taoist disciples practice their spells, and even offer a few words of advice. It was indeed a nice place.

As for Wang Qilang, he did indeed pass by the other party briefly, because when the Taoist entered meditation, he remembered that he had forgotten his zither in the backyard and went to the backyard to retrieve it.

But Cang heard Wang Qilang's request to become his disciple. This person only thought that immortals were powerful, but he didn't understand anything about Taoist arts. With just one glance, Cang could tell that the other party wouldn't stay for long.

He's already shown great perseverance by sticking to it for a month.

"We also have a few friends coming today, all cultivators from other places. Fellow Daoist Cang, why don't you meet them together?"

The old Taoist priest looked up at the sky. It was almost evening. He thought of two friends who were cultivating on other mountains. They had arranged to meet today, but he had been so engrossed in Cang, this unexpected guest, that he had almost forgotten about his old friends.

Cang didn't care. Those who could stay on Laoshan Mountain for a long time were basically people who devoted themselves to cultivation. There was nothing wrong with going to see them. He could just consider it as making more friends.

When Wang Qilang returned to the temple, he saw two unfamiliar guests sitting with his master and Cang. There were also many disciples around. It was already late, but not a single lamp was lit in the room.

Why aren't the lights on?

Wang Qilang asked the disciple standing on the outermost edge, "In the past, when people returned at this time, the Taoist temple would have already lit candles. But today, since we have guests, we haven't lit any."

"It doesn't work."

"Not needed?"

Just then, the old Taoist priest pulled out scissors and paper from somewhere, cut out a large circle, and slapped it against the wall. The circle stuck firmly to the wall and then turned into a bright moon, illuminating the room as bright as day.

As the moon rose, the banquet began. Disciples served the guests, and they even invited Wang Qilang, who had just returned, to join them. One of the guests said, "This is a beautiful night, and the joy is boundless. We must share it together." He handed the wine pot on the table to the disciples next to him and asked them to distribute the wine. It was a small wine pot, and seven or eight people took turns drinking from it. No matter how much they poured, the wine in the pot seemed endless. Wang Qilang drank and estimated that the wine pot had probably already filled several vats.

Then someone else spoke up, saying that they now had fine wine and a bright moon, but they were still missing Chang'e. He picked up a chopstick and threw it into the moon on the wall. Immediately afterward, a beautiful woman in fairy clothes flew out, danced a few dances, and returned to the table, turning back into a chopstick.

Seeing their happiness, Cang flicked his whisk, and a zither floated over from the corner, playing on its own on the ground. This was not Cang's own stringed instrument, but just an ordinary zither. Making such a "mortal object" play on its own was quite simple.

Wang Qilang was dazzled by what he saw. What was this? This was the immortal life he longed for!

Cang glanced at Wang Qilang, who was excitedly pacing alone in the corner. She knew that this man's "enthusiasm" for Taoist arts had been reignited. However, these skills were not something that could be learned simply by finding a master and studying for a short period of time. Even among the many disciples the old Taoist priest had, none of them could do these things.

Apart from the white-haired old Taoist priest, the most conspicuous person present was Cang. The moon hanging on the wall was exceptionally bright, shining on his strange light brown hair, making it appear with an even more peculiar radiance. However, before this radiance could spread, it was neutralized by his dark black outer robe.

Unaware of these things, the old Taoist priest suggested going to the Moon Palace to continue drinking, but Cang declined. The remaining three then jumped into the bright moon on the wall, where people outside could clearly see their figures drinking.

Cang was watching, but it was as if he had eyes in the back of his head. Just as Wang Qilang came up behind him and was about to speak, Cang spoke first.

"I just happened to be traveling here and had no intention of taking on any disciples."

Before the person behind could even speak, what they wanted to say was already rejected. Wang Qilang was astonished. Could this Taoist priest in front of him possibly be able to predict the future?

Before he could even say anything, the other party had already rejected the idea. This wouldn't do; he wanted to try again.

"Immortal Master, I..."

“I am not a person of this world, nor can I have too much to do with this world.”

The cultivation systems of the two sides are different. Even if Cangxiang were to teach, he wouldn't be able to teach anything.

Even if he were to take on disciples, the cultivation methods in Liaozhai are more stream-of-consciousness, while those of innate people tend to enter the Dao through martial arts. With Wang Qilang's physique, just practicing martial arts would be enough to exhaust him.

"I can……"

"If you can endure hardship, you might as well keep going."

Every time Wang Qilang wanted to speak, Cang could always answer before him, as if he knew in advance what Wang Qilang was going to do next. Moreover, Cang did not make any other moves or make any pre-calculations during this time.

Although Cang interrupted him every time, Wang Qilang felt no resentment. On the contrary, he respected Cang even more because of the extraordinary qualities Cang displayed.

Regardless of the circumstances, Cang stated that he would not accept disciples. However, when the old Taoist returned from the Moon Palace, the two guests had vanished without a trace.

Even at the very end, the wine in the jug was not finished. Wang Qilang and his disciples drank several rounds. It was as if there was a sea in the jug, with endless wine pouring out.

The old Taoist priest sent his disciples away, saying they would continue chopping wood the next day. Wang Qilang, having been stimulated, forgot his aversion to chopping wood and lost his previous reluctance to give up. He happily went back home.

Looking at Wang Qilang's retreating figure, the old Taoist priest asked again.

"How long do you think he can hold out this time?"

Cang let the zither playing music drift back to the corner. At this moment, the lights in the room had been turned back on, and the moon on the wall had turned back into a piece of paper, which floated down from the wall.

Upon hearing this question, Cang also looked in the direction where Wang Qilang had left, his half-closed eyes revealing no emotion.

"One month."

The previous month of chopping wood had worn away most of the other person's childhood passion for Taoist arts. The passion that has been rekindled today will probably only last for a month at most.