Dao Qi Wu Zang Guan Guan: I became a Daoist Master in the 1990s

Chapter 1 Immortal Mountain

The mountains of Guizhou take on a somewhat menacing appearance at night.

It was solidly black.

The mountains, hidden behind the veil of darkness, stare menacingly at you!

Zhao Xinmin's wedding was held in this mountain valley in his hometown.

A few dim light bulbs hung in the courtyard, swaying in the mountain wind, casting indistinct shadows of the heads of the crowd below.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of cheap tobacco, the smoky aroma of lard, and the sour smell of fermented corn liquor.

The bright red "double happiness" characters pasted on the earthen wall had long since darkened and tarnished by smoke and fire.

The place was bustling with noise—the shouts of people playing drinking games, the clinking of cups and plates, women coaxing children, and men joking in rough voices—all blending into a scorching cacophony that pierced the ears and made one's head buzz.

Around a greasy low table in the corner of the courtyard sat several mountain villagers, their faces flushed purple from the smell of alcohol.

Old Zhao was wearing a faded old military uniform with shiny cuffs.

He took a sip of the strong liquor from the earthen bowl, his Adam's apple bobbing as he let out a satisfied "ho!" His cloudy old eyes flickered in the dim light. He lowered his voice, whetting everyone's appetite, before speaking to the only outsider at the wedding banquet, a young man.

"Mount Shenxian!"
That happened...during the Guangqing era of the late Qing Dynasty!

His voice was hoarse. "Back in our village, there was a man who went up the mountain to chop firewood and sell charcoal."

That day, he was so eager to chop more good firewood that he missed the appointed time to descend the mountain. As luck would have it, just as he reached the halfway point, fog rolled in!
It was a vast expanse of white, so thick it seemed impossible to separate, and the silence was eerily profound; not even the chirping of birds or insects could be heard.

Old Zhao took another sip of wine, smacked his lips, and gazed at the dark silhouette of the mountains in the distance.

"The man felt uneasy and wandered around in the mountains, as if he were in a maze!"
Even after walking for a long time, when I looked up, I was still wandering around in the old forest.

He was sweating profusely with anxiety, praying to the mountain god for protection... and then a strange thing happened!

His voice suddenly tightened, and the young man at the table subconsciously leaned forward.

"I heard faint celestial music... I parted the thick, grayish fog in front of me... and there was a Taoist temple!"
They just stood there quietly!

The man was completely stunned!

His family has made a living at the foot of the mountain for generations, and they often climb up this mountain too. When did this Taoist temple suddenly appear? It's eerie!

"He was filled with doubt and suspicion, but mustered his courage and went up to knock on the mountain gate. The gate opened a crack and a young Taoist boy came out."

The boy was handsome, with rosy lips and white teeth, and delicate features. He wore a blue Taoist robe, but his eyes…” Old Zhao lowered his voice even further, as if afraid of disturbing something, “brighter than a living person!”
The man asked the young Taoist when a Taoist temple had been built on the mountain, but the young Taoist just smiled and didn't say a word.

The man thought he was mute, but at that time, he was thirsty and tired from walking, so he didn't care about anything else and gestured to ask for a bowl of water.

The young Taoist nodded, turned and went inside, and after a moment brought out a rough earthenware bowl filled with clear water.

The man took it and gulped it down in one go.

That water... tsk, icy cold and sweet, went straight down my throat, and all my fatigue vanished instantly, even making my mind a bit clearer!

After drinking, he was about to ask another question when the young Taoist raised his hand and pointed in a direction in the mist, gesturing for him to follow.

The man dared not linger and left.

Strangely enough, he walked in the direction the young Taoist had pointed, and in the short time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the fog suddenly dissipated, and he found himself standing at the village entrance!

Old Zhao paused, then grinned as he saw the young man listening intently.

When he returned to the village and told everyone, the whole village was astonished! They all said he had encountered a mountain deity!

The next day, dozens of able-bodied men went up the mountain in a large group to search for them.

Forget about Taoist temples, we couldn't even find a decent roof tile! The place was nothing but rocks and old trees!

An old man at the table chimed in, "Absolutely! It's really strange!"

Old Zhao nodded, his wrinkles deepening: "The really weird stuff is yet to come!"

The woodcutter drank the bowl of clear water bestowed by the immortals, and from then on he was strong and healthy, and free from all diseases!

He lived from the late Qing Dynasty until 1949, a full 108 years old!

Finally, he lay on the kang (a heated brick bed) and died peacefully in his sleep!
The older generation in the village, when they were young, had seen this 'ancestor' and heard him tell this story by ear!

How many are still around?

That mountain thus earned the name—Mount Shenxian (Mountain of Immortals)!

He emphasized the last three words, "But ever since him, no matter how thick the fog, no one has ever seen that Taoist temple again... but this old story has been passed down from generation to generation..."

The old men at the table nodded repeatedly, their faces showing reverence.

Only the young man, who had been listening intently, frowned slightly and his eyes shone.

"Old Qi! I've been looking for you for ages! Turns out the cat's been listening to Old Zhao tell old stories here!"

A loud, boisterous voice, reeking of alcohol, suddenly boomed from behind Qi Yun. At the same time, a strong arm gripped his neck tightly.

The man who arrived was none other than the groom, Zhao Xinmin, wearing a trendy oversized lapel suit with a red sweater underneath. His hair was neatly combed, and his face was flushed with the excitement typical of a groom.

"Is it that same old stuff from Shenxian Mountain again?"

I'm so tired of hearing it!

He had clearly drunk quite a bit, reeking of alcohol, and was winking and making faces at Qi Yun.

Qi Yun was a little breathless from being squeezed by him. She broke free, her eyes still filled with deep thought, and asked eagerly, "Xinmin, is that Immortal Mountain... real?"

Where is that mountain?

Zhao Xinmin was taken aback, then burst into an even louder, drunken laugh: "Hahaha! Old Qi, what are you thinking about?"
That mountain is right behind the village, in a tiny patch of land!
When we were kids, a bunch of us would raid bird nests in the summer and chase rabbits in the winter. We'd climb those hills a hundred or eighty times every year.
Forget about temples or shrines, we haven't even found a single inscribed stone! Absolutely nothing!"

He patted Qi Yun's shoulder hard, making Qi Yun sway. "Hey Lao Qi, we're both proper college graduates, the best young people of the new era!"
Instead of thinking about how to contribute to the modernization drive, why are they fussing over these feudal superstitions?

"I never knew you had this on your mind! Come on, come on, stop listening to Old Zhao's nonsense. Come with me, I'll introduce you to my wife! This is the real business!"

Without saying a word, Zhao Xinmin grabbed Qi Yun and squeezed through the noisy crowd.

In the slightly brighter spot in the center of the courtyard, the bride, wearing a bright red woolen coat, lowered her head, twisting the hem of her coat with her fingers, appearing very awkward and shy.

She had delicate features and a refined air about her, like a girl from a small town.

"Come here, honey, this is my college roommate, Qi Yun!"

Zhao Xinmin introduced in a loud voice, with a hint of pride, "They came all the way from a big city thousands of miles away to attend our wedding!"

That's a really generous gesture!

The bride glanced up at Qi Yun quickly, her cheeks flushing, and whispered in a barely audible voice, "Brother Qi," before quickly lowering her head again.

"Old Qi, you are a distinguished guest! A distinguished guest from afar!"

Zhao Xinmin put his arm around Qi Yun's shoulder and shouted to the surroundings, "According to the old rules of our village, the farther the guest comes from, the more precious they are!"

Today, no one has walked farther than you, Old Qi! You're the one! He gave a thumbs up, "You have to sit at the head table, the table with the most senior person in our village!"
That would show our sincerity!

As soon as he finished speaking, several of his relatives half-pushed and half-carried Qi Yun to the main table.

The table was set up at the entrance of the main room, with several armchairs surrounding a large eight-immortal table. The people sitting there were all elderly men with white hair and beards, and deep wrinkles, wearing old-fashioned double-breasted jackets.

Qi Yun, a young man in his early twenties, was forced into the room, which seemed particularly abrupt.

The moment his bottom touched the hard bench, the villagers around him, regardless of age or gender, gathered around with earthen bowls and wine cups, their faces bearing simple yet somewhat exaggerated smiles of respect.

"College student! Have a drink!"

"What an amazing college student! Coming all this way is really impressive!"

"Distinguished guest! Drink this bowl!"

"Let's absorb some of the intellectual atmosphere of university students!"

Bowls of murky, pungent corn liquor were handed to him without a word, with an eagerness that left no room for refusal.

Qi Yun was caught off guard by this sudden display of "respect" and could only grit his teeth and, amidst the cacophony of urging him to drink, frown as he poured bowl after bowl down his throat.

The fiery liquor burned his throat and rushed to the top of his head, causing the red light and figures in front of him to sway.

However, the clear spring water, the Taoist temple shrouded in mist, and Old Zhao's story about the Immortal Mountain lingered like a leech in his alcohol-fueled mind, becoming increasingly clear and persistent.

Zhao Xinmin and his companions thought it was absurd and far-fetched, nothing more than a rural tale.

Qi Yun felt as if a red-hot iron had been plunged into his heart, making a sizzling sound.

The reason is simple and absolutely true.

Because this "Qi Yun" is not the same Qi Yun from 1995 at all!

His consciousness, his soul, somehow, crashed into this young body in 2025, thirty years from now!

It's only been three days since we transmigrated!

The incredible and illogical phenomenon of time travel, which is even more unbelievable than legends of gods and immortals, actually happened to me!
So how could it be impossible that a Taoist temple is hidden among these vast mountains?

Once this thought arose, it spread like wildfire, instantly burning away the last trace of doubt he had about "superstition".

Holding the earthen bowl, he looked through the crowd offering toasts, across the noisy courtyard, and into the thick, all-encompassing darkness of the Guizhou night outside.

It was as if that sacred mountain was hidden behind the night, staring back at him!

"We absolutely have to go up and see this sacred mountain!"

(End of this chapter)