Chapter 4: Star Ignition

The night was deep and still; the world was hushed.

Xu Xian lay in his small bed, sleeping soundly. Unknown to anyone, a point of green light circulated within his body. It did not follow any meridians; instead, Xu Xian’s body was like a vessel filled with water, and that point of green light was like a fish in the water, swimming incessantly. At first, it was merely a tiny speck, like a scattered fry, but after several hours of movement, it grew slightly larger. It remained until the river of stars faded away, at which point the green light vanished as well.

When he woke the next morning, Xu Xian rubbed his head, wondering if the previous night had been a dream. Suddenly, his hand brushed against a book. He picked it up to find the hardcover copy of the Tao Te Ching. Although it was clearly a rare ancient edition, he couldn't help but feel that this "secret manual" was a bit too common. At the very least, he should have been given something like the Tathagata Palm!

Xu Xian vaguely remembered the events of the previous night. The Taoist seemed to have placed something inside his head. However, much like the Four Books and Five Classics he had memorized, he felt as though he knew it, yet simultaneously knew nothing at all. It was a real headache.

"Xu Xian, get to the private school quickly. The teacher will scold you if you're late," his sister's voice called out. Xu Xian jumped off the bed with a sigh, hurriedly finished breakfast, and walked toward the school. The so-called teacher was merely an old scholar. Usually, people woke up earlier as they aged, but this man had become increasingly fond of sleeping in, so his lectures started late. This allowed lazy bums like Xu Xian to sleep a little longer.

Dazed, he followed dozens of children, old and young, as they swayed their heads and chanted archaic particles. Xu Xian's mind had already drifted far beyond the mountains and rivers.

With a loud thwack, a ferule slammed onto Xu Xian’s desk. Having seen great things in his past life, Xu Xian naturally wasn't frightened by such a minor trick. He slowly raised his head and looked at the old scholar with an expression that asked, "Is there something you need?"

The old man hated this kind of disrespectful behavior most of all. His beard trembled with rage as he said, "Recite what we just read for me. For every mistake, you’ll get one stroke of the ruler." Numerous children immediately began to snicker. Xu Xian rose slowly with a graceful bearing, showing no sign of panic, which only fueled the old scholar's dissatisfaction.

Xu Xian braced himself for a beating and then began to recite in a rhythmic voice: "Sincerity is the Way of Heaven. The pursuit of sincerity is the Way of man. He who is sincere hits the mark without effort and gains without thought; he who naturally embodies the Way is a sage..." Xu Xian was a bit stiff at first, but soon, the words seemed to leap before his eyes, allowing him to recite them with ease.

The old man’s eyes grew wider and wider. He felt as if he didn't recognize the person standing before him. After only one night, the most foolish of his students could now recite perfectly.

Reciting with gusto, Xu Xian thought to himself, Did that Taoist’s finger actually increase my intelligence? Bah, this isn't a game. It's like the Midas touch; even a stubborn stone like me has been turned to gold.

He did not know how much mental effort the Taoist had poured into that simple tap. If a human cultivator wished to attain the Tao and become an immortal, they had to cross three great Heavenly Tribulations. The Taoist had already survived two, but he knew he could never pass the final one. Thus, he chose a successor to pass on his sect’s heritage, directly imbuing a spark of Tao-nature into Xu Xian’s soul. For a person of ordinary but excellent aptitude, the first step of cultivation was fraught with difficulties, yet Xu Xian had entered the gate just by sleeping.

However, that single finger also carried immense danger. It was a technique that could never be used on someone unless they possessed a steadfast will and profound fortune. Fortunately, Xu Xian was a man of Boundless Merit, allowing him to withstand the power of that touch. It was a moment of spiritual resonance—a single touch to bring enlightenment. This technique was known as "Opening the Apertures." It imprinted the Taoist sect's mental cultivation methods directly into Xu Xian's soul. When the Taoist passed on the legacy, however, he worried that Xu Xian might become distracted, so he only transmitted the "Dao" of internal cultivation and not the "Fa" of external arts. It was like practicing martial arts by training only internal energy without knowing a single technique or move.

As the evening lights flickered, Xu Xian left the school and returned home. He hurriedly ate dinner and shared the day's interesting events with his sister to make her laugh. She praised him, saying he had finally "opened his apertures." Xu Xian naturally accepted the praise without humility, saying, "Exactly, exactly," which led his sister to scold him for his lack of modesty.

After dinner, Xu Xian hurried back to his small room, unable to stop smiling. It turned out he really had met an immortal. He began to focus on the things in his mind, assuming a Five Hearts Facing Heaven posture and trying his best to cultivate. But even after his legs went numb, he achieved nothing.

Xu Xian was frustrated. Was his talent really that poor? Don't all transmigrators master everything instantly? He gritted his teeth and practiced for a long time, but still gained no insights.

Finally, he collapsed onto the bed in defeat, thinking spinelessly: I'll just wait for My Lady to arrive and have her teach me.

Late into the night, Xu Xian’s heart suddenly stirred. Perhaps his Taoist master was still out there! He put on his shoes and walked out, but the bridge was empty. Xu Xian walked back and forth but saw no one. However, he noticed his vision had become exceptionally clear; he could now dimly see into the darkness where it would normally be pitch black.

After wandering for a while, Xu Xian felt restless. He leaned helplessly against the bridge railing, watching the dark river water flow silently beneath him. The autumn wind passed through the bridge arch along with the water, singing a nameless, eternal song. Yet within that dark water, countless points of light flickered in and out of existence.

Xu Xian suddenly looked up. The vast river of stars shone brightly, and the world felt boundless. In an instant, his restless thoughts became incredibly tiny and insignificant. Xu Xian was but a being of a hundred years, while the river flowed for millennia and the stars endured for eternity.

Suddenly, Xu Xian had a moment of realization. Wasn't the so-called path of seeking immortality about discarding the distractions of the mundane world to become one with the river and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the stars? But let alone mortals—compared to this universe, what did even true immortals or Buddhas amount to? They couldn't even compare to a single speck of stardust! An ephemerid born in the morning and dead by dusk; a summer insect that cannot speak of ice. Such was the relationship between humans and immortals! While the summer insect mocks the ephemerid, how shallow is the insect itself? My life is finite, while the Tao is infinite. Is it not foolish to use a finite life to seek an infinite Tao?

People would never know that what they called night was merely the shadow of a single star, and that the sun never truly vanished, even in the darkness.

Xu Xian likely never imagined that the astronomical knowledge he learned in his previous life would be applied this way in his current one. This unique worldview gave him a special realization that surpassed even the so-called immortals and Buddhas of this world. Whether Taoist or Buddhist, the essence of cultivation was the "Heart." Once the state of mind is clear, all paths become clear.

In the darkness, a pair of eyes watched this scene. The shock in the watcher's heart was no less than that of the old scholar. He had intended to give his disciple one last bit of guidance tonight, testing his character before revealing himself. When Xu Xian had weakly given up his search and slumped over the bridge railing, the Taoist had felt disappointed, feeling as though he had entrusted his legacy to the wrong person.

But just now, he had watched with his own eyes as that spark of green light in Xu Xian's soul suddenly surged, turning from green to crimson. It radiated a scorching brilliance and stopped wandering, instead planting itself firmly in the center to illuminate every dark corner of the soul.

"The Sun Star! Can someone really ignite the Sun Star?" the Taoist muttered to himself. His sect was called the "Sea of Constellations," and the Taoist arts they practiced were aligned with the stars. Although the methods were the same, they led to different paths depending on the individual. What determined that path was which star the green light corresponded to during the second great hurdle of cultivation: "Star Ignition."

Different stars provided different effects and could be ranked. The highest tier involved igniting the fourteen stars of the Northern and Southern Dippers. Commoners usually ignited other minor stars. There were those of extreme talent who ignited the Purple Star, but that was a once-in-a-millennium event. The star was the nature; the star was the fate. The first star determined one's entire path of cultivation.

The Taoist's title was True Person Taiyin because the first star he had ignited was the Taiyin Star, commonly known as the Moon. The Taiyin Star was incredibly bright, slightly superior to the Dippers, but it was the most dependent on destiny. On the night of a full moon when the star power was strongest, even the Purple Star might be slightly inferior. However, at the beginning or end of the month when the star power was weakest, it only possessed the strength of a minor star. The Taoist had calculated that his third Heavenly Tribulation would fall exactly when his star power was at its weakest; it was a fate he could do nothing about.

However, there was one star that only existed as a concept within the "Starry River": the Sun. Stars appeared at night, and their sect practiced at night. Naturally, Star Ignition also happened at night, the time of extreme Yin when the sun was hidden.

According to their philosophy, the sun had already set, so how could it possibly be ignited? For Xu Xian to succeed in Star Ignition on his second day was already a rare talent, but to ignite the Sun—a star that was supposedly impossible to ignite—left even the Taoist feeling incredulous.

In the past, some in the sect had tried to perform Star Ignition during the day to ignite the Sun. While igniting it was easy, they were all incinerated on the spot by the True Solar Fire. Thus, no one had tried since.

Whether it was the Purple Star or the Taiyin Star, when the sun rises, the stars fade and the moon hides. What did the Master of Stars matter then? In the solar system, only that great ball of fire was the protagonist.

The Taoist sighed softly. "It seems I’ve taken on quite a formidable disciple!" He had originally wanted to give Xu Xian some pointers, but seeing the dazzling radiance within Xu Xian's soul, he felt a sudden lack of interest. His guidance might actually lead Xu Xian astray. He quietly vanished into the darkness.

Xu Xian remained on the bridge, immersed in that wondrous state until dawn. When he felt his body becoming hot, he finally snapped out of it. The actual sun of the daytime was not yet something he could withstand.

As he hurried back home, Xu Xian did not yet know that he had laid the most important foundation for his path of cultivation. Once the primary star was determined, the next step was to establish a Star Palace. But if the Sun was the primary star and all other stars faded in its presence, how was he to build a Star Palace? This was the Taoist's only concern. It did not trouble Xu Xian, however. After a night of enlightenment, he felt his mind was more open than ever before. Many things he had been brooding over could now be easily set aside, leaving his body and mind feeling much lighter.

He hadn't been without worries regarding his current poverty and had even considered plagiarizing a few poems to improve his life. But for a child like him, fame was not necessarily a good thing. He had been hesitating, but now Xu Xian could make up his mind to simply live his life peacefully. The future was long, wasn't it?