Chapter Four: The Sage in Simple Attire

Listening to my suggestion about going to Kunlun Xu, the fortune-telling immortal laughed, "That's right. Luckily you met me; otherwise, as a minor immortal, you wouldn't even get close to the mountain palaces of the Emperor of Nine Provinces, let alone reach the land of dragon veins, the source of all things and the seat of light."

"A minor immortal like me is content to listen to tales and gossip about the gods. Who would risk their necks to get near there?" I retorted, pursing my lips.

The story of Lord Yunxiao killing his wife still left me uneasy.

"Haha, that's true as well. But all these stories are hearsay—never take them for truth. Young friend, judge things with your heart, not your eyes or ears. Take me, for example! I'm quite extraordinary! Don't underestimate me, don't underestimate—very formidable!" The fortune-teller boasted with pride.

I had ignored him at first, which only made this fortune-telling immortal ramble on like an old granny, making me want to laugh.

"You might as well say I have no eye for talent and don't recognize you as a great deity." I replied, smiling.

"Not as bad as having no eye for talent. Your soul is a bit flawed, but nothing serious." The fortune-telling immortal lifted his patched, ragged sleeve and stroked his sparse beard, assuming an air of profound mystery.

His comical appearance made it hard to take his words seriously; suppressing a smile, I teased, "Great deity, it's the first time I've heard someone describe 'missing part of a soul' so elegantly."

"Haha, I am always elegant," he replied, quite unabashed. To call himself elegant! With his patched clothes, dry topknot, thin yellowed beard—remove his fortune-telling banner and folding fan, and he'd be a beggar.

We found a thatched pavilion to rest, waiting for the rain to pass before moving on. With him there, I couldn't go out and cleanse myself in the rain, and since I'd given him my fan, I could only sit quietly, calming my spirit.

"Do you know the art of sword-riding?" he asked, waving the mottled bamboo fan.

"No," I answered.

"Well, since you gave me this fan, I won't accept it for nothing. Here, take a look at this sword-riding manual," he said, pulling out a rather ornate brocade scroll from his basket. I opened it—where was the sword-riding technique? It was merely a diagram for physical exercises.

I burst out laughing, "Great deity! Anyone could see this is a palm technique manual!"

"Really? Let me see." He took the scroll, nearly pressing it to his face. "Ah, oh dear! I was in such a rush, I grabbed the wrong one!"

"Great deity! Use your heart to see!" I seized the chance to mock him.

With eyesight like his, he still laughed at mine.

"No matter. It's all the same—appearances are illusory, no difference. Go ahead, take a look," he said.

I glanced at the palm technique; it looked familiar, probably seen someone practice it before. I rolled it up and handed it back.

"Finished?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"You've learned it?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"So quickly?" he asked.

"I've seen others practice it," I replied.

"Where? Who?" he asked.

"I forgot," I answered.

"Once this rain passes, we'll head to Kunlun Xu at once. If we're late, it'll be even more troublesome—a bigger loss," he said, one hand lazily waving the fan, the other calculating with exaggerated seriousness.

"Yes, making money means acting early," I agreed.

Lightning flashed across the sky, wind stirred and rain fell, dispelling the stuffy feeling. Standing in the pavilion, I enjoyed the cool breeze, feeling utterly refreshed.

"Great deity! Have you ever been to Kunlun Xu?" I asked.

"I have," he replied.

"Have you met Lord Yunxiao?" I asked.

"I have," he replied.

"What does he look like?" I asked curiously.

"Much like me," the fortune-teller replied.

"Ah? Haha..." I couldn't help but laugh, thinking if Lord Yunxiao looked like him, he'd be better off as a white-haired, white-bearded old man like a puppet—at least he'd look more dignified.

"Don't laugh, young friend. In my eyes, faces are no different. All the same, all the same," he said.

"If there's no difference, how do you read fortunes?" I laughed.

"By reading hearts! Appearance follows the heart; it's easily disguised. Men can pretend to be women, women can pretend to be men, ugly can pretend to be beautiful, beautiful can pretend to be ugly—but the heart cannot be disguised, isn't that so, young friend?" He gave me a sly look.

"Oh, hmm! Yes! Hehe..." I laughed awkwardly, thinking, "Could he have seen through me as a female immortal? Impossible—I studied immortal arts for five hundred years; how could I be exposed so easily?"

"The rain's stopped, let's go!" he said, grabbing my arm, waving his banner, and soaring into the sky.

"Great deity! You're faster than me, and I'm a flying bird!" I transformed, flapping my wings desperately in the air to keep up, feeling as though my wings would cramp.

"Young friend, your magic is lacking," the fortune-teller sighed.

"Great deity, I've only cultivated for about three thousand years—can't compare to those upper immortals and golden immortals who've cultivated for tens of thousands of years. I'm at my limit..." I panted.

"Sigh, there was plenty of time, no need to rush. But this storm came at the worst moment, leaving you so little time—really puts you through the wringer!" the fortune-teller lamented.

"Great deity, why don't you go earn your money first? I'll fly slowly; I'm in no hurry," I said.

"You may not be in a hurry, but others are! You've made a mistake that implicates others—how can you not hurry to explain yourself?" he scolded.

"Oh, alright." I wondered if that recommendation letter was truly so important. Dongfang Mo was willing to pay a hundred gold leaves for it. Now I had to go far away to testify for it being damaged. Does having a recommendation letter guarantee you a master? Isn't this just buying a place as a disciple? Why not simply compete by wealth?

"Great deity, I can read fortunes too! Whoever has money and connections, just say they'll be accepted as a disciple. If I get one right out of ten, I'll be rich!" I laughed.

"Even out of ten thousand, you might not get one! Lord Yunxiao's disciples are rarer than one in ten thousand," he replied.

"With odds that low, how do you make money or build reputation?" I asked.

"I've always regarded wealth as dung. Money and dung are the same to me," he said.

"Great deity! Can you slow down? I'm cramping!" I felt my immortal energy nearly exhausted, wings about to break.

"What's your name?"

"Yu Fei."

"Alright! You go ahead. We'll meet again if fate allows!" With that, the fortune-teller cast a spell and flung me away. I tumbled through the air like a shooting star, wind whistling past my ears...

The fortune-teller leisurely summoned his bamboo fan, fanning himself with a sigh, "Yu Fei, Biyou, unable to fly in the heavens, unable to swim in the sea..."

With a thud, I landed straight in a well. The water was icy cold, numbing my legs so I couldn't move. A bucket was thrown down, hitting me and hauling me up.

"Huh? What's this dead bird?" The immortal was puzzled, picked me up, and tossed me aside. I managed to flutter to a tree, shivering, only coming to my senses after a while.

Moments ago I was sweltering in Qilin Town, and now I'd been tossed into an icy land. The fortune-teller was nowhere to be seen. Shaking off the water, I flew up for a look and saw I'd arrived at a town even livelier than Qilin Town. I descended and transformed into human form.

As I strolled about, I found this town lively but quite different from Qilin Town. There weren't many vendors selling sundries or performing tricks. Most stalls sold immortal medicines to boost magical power, manuals for immortal arts, warm clothing, pawnshops, and make-up services!

After wandering for a bit, feeling cold and hungry, I entered a restaurant to eat and asked the waiter for information.

"You are the first guest I've met in years who doesn't know where this is!" he remarked.

"I really don't," I replied helplessly. I must be the first he'd seen tossed here directly.

"This is Xu Huai Town. Thirty li that way lies Kunlun Xu," he said, pointing.

"Oh, so I've arrived at Kunlun Xu," I said.

"Yes, all immortals visiting Kunlun Xu stay here. Our upstairs is an inn, but it's packed. The whole town is packed—even the cattle sheds are full," he explained.

"Oh, are they all here to seek a master?" I asked.

"Yes!" he replied.

"Oh, why so many make-up stalls?" Lord Yunxiao is famous in the heavenly realm; naturally, the fearless crowd would flock to seek him as a master. I had already witnessed the frenzy in the teahouse in Qilin Town. But the booming make-up businesses here puzzled me.

"Of course! Lord Yunxiao has taken disciples only four times in forty thousand years, and never a female! This is the fifth time—unless something changes, he won't accept one now either. So all female immortals seeking a master have to disguise themselves as men!" the waiter explained casually, as if it were nothing unusual.

Thanking him, I ate with a mischievous smile, thinking this visit would be fun. With the town's make-up industry so thriving, there must be many female immortals masquerading as men to seek a master. What a spectacle—would any slip through the net? Besides bearing witness, there'd be a grand drama to watch; this trip wouldn't be wasted.

Just as I was eating and laughing to myself, two immortals approached my table and greeted me, "Young man, there are no tables left—may we share yours?"

"Alright, please sit," I replied.

"Thank you, young man!" said one, whose voice and address sounded familiar. Looking up, I recognized Wei Yang, whom I'd met at the teahouse in Qilin Town. She had changed into male attire with remarkable speed. The immortal beside her was obviously another woman in disguise—their features, mannerisms, waists, and even their chests gave them away.

"So it's you!" Wei Yang's face darkened at the sight of me, and she whispered to her companion, glaring at me, "That's him—the one I met! He spoke ill of Lord Yunxiao, yet here he is, eager to seek a master."

Her companion replied, "Maybe he's afraid others will be accepted, so he's spreading rumors. If others believe him and join him, his competition lessens."

I continued eating, paying them no mind. I thought, that picky old god would scarcely accept one disciple out of ten thousand—I'd be mad to try and reduce the competition. If I wanted to speak ill of him, I'd at least hold a lecture to gather a crowd first. Besides, why seek him as a master? I haven't lived enough yet!

While I was brooding, a commotion erupted upstairs in the inn: "Someone's killed themselves! Hung themselves with an immortal-binding rope! Quick, help!" An immortal rushed down, pounding the floor in panic.