Chapter 150: The Senior Disciple

Hearing those threats, Qiao Bilian’s figure flickered as she retreated a little farther toward the lonely grave in the forest. She stared intently at Zhou Qing, scrutinizing him, before letting out another peal of laughter.

“My little nemesis, there’s no need to be so fierce. Can’t we talk things through?”

“No, not today. On any other day, perhaps I’d indulge you, but now I’m simply not in the mood.”

With a tone of impatience, Zhou Qing slapped the treasure pouch at his waist, producing a talisman that flew into his fingers. Upon seeing Zhou Qing’s action, the evil spirit sighed regretfully before gliding over to Yin Mao, brushing his face with a spectral hand, and then, in a flash of red light, vanished into the solitary grave.

Once the spirit disappeared, Zhou Qing put away the talisman, strode to the grave, grabbed Yin Mao by the collar, and dragged him straight out of the woods.

Soon after, Zhou Qing dropped the unconscious man onto a patch of grass and sat down beside him. At first, Zhou Qing had been rather displeased to follow Yin Mao into the forest, but after a while sitting quietly on the grass, his feelings shifted.

This man, who for who knows how long had lived as a bandit and now suddenly wished to take Zhou Qing as his master, had chased him this far—proof enough of his determination.

…

Not long after Zhou Qing dragged Yin Mao from the woods, night began to fade and a red sun slowly rose in the east.

On the grass, Zhou Qing sat cross-legged, quietly breathing and refining spiritual energy. Suddenly, Yin Mao, still unconscious, let out a startled cry and woke with a start.

The moment he woke, he saw Zhou Qing sitting beside him. After a few astonished glances, a smile appeared on Yin Mao’s face. Then he asked, though he already knew the answer, “Master, was it you who saved me last night?”

Eyes still closed in meditation, Zhou Qing did not answer. Instead, he stood and began to walk along the little path down the slope.

Seeing this, Yin Mao knew he couldn’t let such a chance pass him by. He had followed Zhou Qing into the wilderness last night and nearly lost his life—if it hadn’t been for Zhou Qing’s protection, he would likely be dead already.

Since Zhou Qing had saved him, Yin Mao took it as a sign that the master cared, and his hope of becoming a disciple seemed not so far-fetched.

All along the way, Yin Mao clung to Zhou Qing like a plaster, as the two crossed several mountains. By noon, they saw a small town in the distance.

“Master, that town is Jia Yu County. I was here just half a year ago,” Yin Mao said, gazing down at the town nestled at the mountain’s foot.

Zhou Qing nodded silently and continued down the mountain, then suddenly spoke, “Are you aware that those of us who walk outside the secular world do not lead the carefree lives you imagine?”

“Your disciple does not understand. Please instruct me, Master.”

Yin Mao addressed Zhou Qing as “Master” at every turn and called himself “disciple.” To any outsider, he already seemed Zhou Qing’s apprentice, though Zhou Qing had never actually agreed to take him as such.

“You say you wish to follow me and learn a skill, to have a craft to rely on. But you do not realize that exorcists live and die by the sword—catching spirits and subduing monsters is fraught with danger.”

As they descended, Zhou Qing recounted tales of the tragic deaths of Liu Banshen and that great Taoist in Jinling County.

“Life and death are left to fate, and fortune to the heavens. When I was a bandit, my life was always at risk. You needn’t worry for me, Master—besides, with you leading the way, what have I to fear?”

Zhou Qing let out a soft laugh and looked over at the man several years his senior, making a decision in his heart: he would teach him some rudimentary skills, enough for this former bandit to make a living.

Given Yin Mao’s age, it would be difficult for him to achieve great enlightenment in the Dao, but Zhou Qing could still instruct him in the basics, so he might get by as a petty Taoist, much like Liu Banshen in Jinling.

The Celestial Unity Sect had no strict rules against taking disciples. When Old Taoist Wu had accepted Zhou Qing, it was simply because he felt a connection with him. Now, Zhou Qing and Yin Mao seemed to share a similar bond.

“I can teach you some minor spells and the essentials of cultivation, but I cannot take you with me.”

Having pestered Zhou Qing since the previous night, Yin Mao finally heard him relent. He thought it over and did not insist on tagging along.

In his view, his newly acquired master was no ordinary man, and with his own mortal frame, he would be hard-pressed to keep up with such a journey.

Besides, all Yin Mao wanted was to pick up the basics from Zhou Qing—enough to catch a spirit or two, gain some respect, and make an easy living.

“I understand, truly. Master, you are a wandering sage, destined to roam the world. Bringing along a burden like me would be most inconvenient. If you could just teach me the fundamentals, so I may have a trade to survive by, that would be enough.”

“Very well,” Zhou Qing nodded, glancing at the nearby county town. “I will stay here with you for three days and teach you what I can. How much you grasp will depend on your own fortune.”

“Thank you, Master!” Yin Mao’s face lit up with joy as he followed Zhou Qing into the town.

Jia Yu County was quite small. Walking its streets, they saw many refugees lingering about. Though Zhou Qing never asked where they came from, his time in the Tang Empire had given him a general understanding—they were most likely fleeing from the north.

The land was in turmoil, with rebel armies rising everywhere—especially in the north, where their forces had grown strong enough to threaten the ruling regime.

After a brief stroll through town, Zhou Qing led Yin Mao into an inn. There, over the next three days, he taught Yin Mao the basics of the Dao.

On the morning of the fourth day, he prepared to leave Jia Yu County.

“Master, who knows when we shall meet again? Please accept three bows from your disciple!”

At the edge of town in the early dawn, Yin Mao knelt toward Zhou Qing’s departing figure and kowtowed three times, his head striking the ground with a thud.

By nature, Yin Mao was not a bad man, and after these few days together, Zhou Qing had come to like him. So their parting was tinged with true feeling.

Though he was reluctant to part with his newfound master, their agreement had been clear from the start, and all Yin Mao could do was kneel at the town’s edge and watch as Zhou Qing walked away.

As he walked, Zhou Qing heard Yin Mao’s farewell behind him. He turned to see the man kowtowing in his direction, and a wave of emotion rose in his heart.

Moved, Zhou Qing slapped his waist, took out a small pouch of gold and several hand-drawn talismans, and with a wave, tossed them at Yin Mao’s feet.