Chapter 5: The Immortal Path

Xu Xian lay quietly on the bed. A speck of crimson on his chest emitted a glow that illuminated his entire body, and at this moment, his consciousness was incredibly clear.

The things in his mind were no longer a muddled mess but had become somewhat distinct in his hazy perception. Those cultivation methods were neither text nor illustrations. Words and pictures were ultimately meant to convey information, but the process of transmission inevitably led to distortion and misunderstanding.

Yet now, Xu Xian felt that every piece of information the Taoists had injected into his mind was precise and clear. It was as if the information was being transmitted directly to him without any medium; even someone illiterate would be able to understand it.

Beyond marveling at the wonders of Taoist magic, Xu Xian devoted himself wholeheartedly to these matters. Becoming an immortal or attaining Buddhahood was a complex deep-seated in the heart of perhaps every Chinese person. However, with the development of technology, more and more natural phenomena could be explained, and such things were gradually classified as superstition, slowly fading from the hearts of modern people.

But who hasn't had such scenes in their dreams? Traveling through famous mountains with a bamboo staff and straw shoes. Wandering beyond the mortal world in light robes and long sleeves. To tread across green mountains while remaining young—what a life of carefree wandering that would be.

When one discovers that all of this is real, who wouldn't be moved? Xu Xian was no exception.

Lying quietly on the bed, savoring the profound methods in his mind, he gradually realized that he was at the "Star Ignition" stage. Once a primary star was established, one had to continuously strengthen it until it reached a certain level to build a Star Palace. However, that speck of light within him did not match any of the descriptions.

Although the Star of Chi You was also crimson, it carried a sense of ominous slaughter and bloodlight. It was nothing like his own crimson star, which, though faint in light, was magnificent, righteous, and endless.

Xu Xian thought about it over and over but still didn't quite understand. He could only follow the described method to sense the celestial phenomena and continuously perform breathing exercises. He felt that single crimson star constantly absorbing tiny points of light from the outside world.

It should have been impossible to absorb star power without knowing which star was one's primary star. However, as the primary star of the solar system and the closest star to Earth, the Sun’s power played a massive role even in the dark of night. Its light shone everywhere, ever-present.

Others had to gather star power from stars millions of light-years away, while the Sun's light reached Earth in just a few minutes. Naturally, the difference between the two was as vast as heaven and earth.

However, Xu Xian also felt that the closer it got to dawn, the more star power gathered and the faster it came. But once the sun actually rose, the heat became unbearable. It wasn't a physical heat, but a mental one. He tried to resist this burning sensation and persevere, but after only a short while, he felt as if his soul was about to evaporate. He hurriedly stopped and stood up, drenched in sweat.

He pushed open the window and looked toward the horizon, where the red clouds looked like a wildfire and the east was about to break into dawn.

Vaguely, Xu Xian had an epiphany. It turned out his primary star was the Sun in the sky. Sensing that speck of crimson light in his soul again, he saw it had grown from the size of a millet grain to the size of a rice grain. It was truly incredible that it had increased so much just now, even though it had only grown a tiny bit when dawn was approaching. It seemed that persevering for that short moment before sunrise had such a massive effect. If he could practice for a while at high noon, wouldn't he attain Buddhahood on the spot?

This was merely Xu Xian's wishful thinking. If he truly practiced this method at high noon, attaining Buddhahood on the spot would be impossible; spontaneous combustion would be the reality. Usually, when a person died, they could enter reincarnation. The worst fate was for the soul to be scattered, but doing that would burn his very soul into nothingness. Remembering the agony of that brief moment of perseverance, Xu Xian didn't dare to force his cultivation further.

Xu Xian washed up and hurried to the private school. Although he had actually stayed up all night, he was hale and hearty, feeling as if his body were filled with inexhaustible energy and strength.

The teacher’s surname was Song, and he tended to his pots of plants every day. When Xu Xian arrived, the old man was still looking down, watering his plants. In either of his lives, Xu Xian had never expected to gain the favor of his teachers, so he didn't mind. He just wanted to walk past quickly; if others didn't acknowledge him, he had no interest in sucking up to them.

"Xu Xian, you've arrived!" the old man suddenly blurted out, though he didn't look at Xu Xian.

"Ah? Yes, I'm here, Teacher." Xu Xian was stunned and hurried to bow in return. Not knowing what was wrong with the old man, he wanted to leave but felt a bit worried, so he asked cautiously, "Teacher, are you alright today?"

The old man was about to get angry, but after a thought, he waved his hand and said, "Hurry inside."

Xu Xian walked in and sat down, bewildered. He didn't know that his performance yesterday had been noticed by the teacher. The teacher felt that although this boy was averse to studying, his natural talent was the best, and he should guide him toward the right path. Having failed the imperial exams repeatedly throughout his life, the teacher always wanted to teach a truly formidable disciple.

But selecting officials through the imperial examination was like a massive army trying to cross a single-log bridge; it was countless times harder than the college entrance exams of his previous life. However, possessing a photographic memory gave him a massive advantage.

The imperial examinations were divided into stages: the Child Scholar exam, the Provincial Exam, and the Metropolitan Exam. The earlier exams mostly tested material from books, but because the questions were phrased in complex, overlapping ways, one couldn't succeed without a good brain.

Once you pass the Child Scholar exam, you become a scholar. Most literati spend their entire lives stuck at the Provincial Exam; if they fail, they remain commoners forever. They are unable to lift heavy objects with their hands or carry loads on their shoulders, and most look down on merchants and tradesmen. They can only lead a destitute life as a schoolteacher or, if they are lucky, become a legal secretary. This is what's meant by the saying "the most useless thing is a scholar." Such a person is nothing more than a poor, sour scholar whom everyone looks down upon.

But if one could pass the Provincial Exam, they would become a Master Juren. Even without an official post, they were exempt from bowing to officials and could receive an annual stipend from the state. People in the countryside would flock to associate with them. With Xu Xian's photographic memory, passing the Provincial Exam would be as easy as reaching into a bag to grab an object.

Old Man Song thought happily: At that time, I will be Xu Xian’s mentor. Won't everyone respect me then? Even if I failed the exams repeatedly, it would be seen as a matter of bad luck rather than a lack of scholarship. Consequently, he became much warmer toward Xu Xian. He was just protective of his pride and couldn't bring himself to be too nice all at once, but his attitude had long since changed.

Thus, Xu Xian's day was very strange. The teacher constantly called on him to answer questions, making him feel rather overwhelmed by the sudden favor. However, his mind was now clear and his memory photographic; he recited the answers fluently. This made Mr. Song more and more pleased, treating him like a prize pupil.

In the small private school, the clear sound of reading echoed.

Xu Xian still didn't love studying, but the news of his photographic memory slowly spread. Sometimes when his sister returned, she would happily say that the vegetable seller gave her an extra green onion today, or that someone else had praised Xu Xian. Even the foreman at the laundry stopped making things difficult for her.

Xu Xian would smile and say, "How is one green onion enough? I'll memorize the Zuo Zhuan today so they'll give you two tomorrow." Xu Xian's sister would laugh and say that sounded wonderful.

However, there were also some minor troubles. Xu Xian’s sister was already of marriageable age, but because she looked after Xu Xian, a "tag-along," and her looks were merely decent, she was neither highly sought after nor willing to settle, so her marriage had been delayed. Now that Xu Xian's reputation as a child prodigy had spread, the matchmakers of Qiantang County swarmed the house.

Xu Xian’s sister rejected them all. Seeing that their sweet talk wasn't working, the matchmakers inevitably spat out some biting remarks, only to be driven out by her with a door bolt. In the marketplace, if a household had no grown men and the women weren't fierce, others would have been bullying them at their doorstep long ago.

Xu Xian asked jokingly, "Sister, why don't you pick one?"

"What's there to pick? They're either blind or lame. And those like Young Master Wang or Mr. Zhang—who knows how many concubines they already have at home. Go, go, go, you little monkey, don't worry about my business. Just focus on your books. If you become the Top Scholar in the future, I’ll get a Mandated Title or something similar, and then all the hardships I've endured won't have been in vain." She wasn't very literate and had limited education, so her words were blunt, but her heart was far better than those filled with vast learning.

Xu Xian smiled bitterly. It wasn't as bad as she said; there were good families among the suitors. Xu Xian only found out later that his sister already had a pursuer—a common little constable who also came from a poor family. Xu Xian’s heart stirred. In the original story, hadn't Xu Xian’s sister married a constable? Though they weren't wealthy, they were a comfortable middle-class family and lived a harmonious life together. That would be the best outcome.

Mr. Song had also been quite unhappy lately. Someone actually tried to steal his student, promising many benefits, including waiving tuition and providing free room and board. Although Xu Xian politely declined, it still incensed the old man. However, he became twice as pleasant toward Xu Xian.

Having become a "hot commodity," Xu Xian continued his peaceful life. His daily cultivation was an essential task; he cared about it far more than studying. Every day he felt some improvement; though small, he always felt himself changing.

This change was slow and subtle, like a butterfly in a chrysalis waiting to spread its wings and fly. During the countless days and nights before, no one knew of the butterfly's beauty—even the butterfly itself did not understand it.

But when the butterfly finally spreads its wings and flies toward the blue sky, will it still remember its former self within the chrysalis? Is it discarded without mercy? Or does one look back at the empty husk with a hint of melancholy?