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

Chapter 2 Autumn Mountain Jade
The sunlight, like a dull knife, wedged itself in through the cracks in the wooden window frame covered with old newspapers, piercing Qi Yun's eyelids.

He jerked his eyelids open sharply, as if they were made of lead, and lifted them a crack.

At first, there was a chaotic patch of light before my eyes, which then slowly solidified.

The earthen bed was hard and hurt my back.

The coarse cloth quilt cover exuded a musty smell, a mixture of sun and sweat.

The newspapers used to wallpaper the wall have long since turned yellow and curled at the edges, and the headlines of the "Guizhou Daily" from several years ago can still be vaguely discerned.

A red lacquered wooden cabinet with peeling paint, its doors adorned with faded "囍" (double happiness) paper-cuts, the edges curled up.

Qi Yun blinked, his temples throbbing as if a small chisel was tapping against his bones.

The sour, bloated feeling of a hangover spread from my stomach all the way down to my throat, and my mouth felt dry and bitter, like I had a handful of sand in my mouth.

Even now, he still finds it hard to believe that he actually time-traveled!
Shouldn't time travel only happen in novels?

That familiar, overwhelming sense of absurdity gripped him once again.

But all of this actually happened.

In this remote mountain village of your province in the 1990s.

In his previous life, he was a recent graduate majoring in classical Chinese literature.

I squeezed onto the subway for an interview with my resume in my hand, and dozed off for a while in my seat.

The moment I opened my eyes, the world had turned upside down.

They appeared on the green train heading to Zhao Xinmin Village.

The original owner shared the same name and was also a university graduate, but the value of their degrees was incomparable!
It's genuine, it's edged with gold!

Unfortunately, his parents died early, and he only managed to get his diploma thanks to pensions and government subsidies.

Memories were like two twisted ropes, chaotically filling his head.

As for the gold finger?
That's something someone else's time traveler would have.

Qi Yun was probably the unluckiest of all the transmigrators, transmigrating naked!
What made him feel even more uneasy was that the world in the 1990s seemed similar to his memory at first glance, with red flags waving and green military uniforms in fashion, but subtle differences were evident.

Some well-known major events seem to have taken a turn.

This dashed his ambition to amass a fortune through his "prophecy" ambitions before they could even take shape.

Just when he was at a loss in this familiar yet extremely strange world.

The legend of the fairy mountain mentioned at the wedding banquet immediately sparked a lot of associations in him!
“Immortal Mountain…” Qi Yun murmured to himself, the hangover headache seemingly pierced by these three words, becoming even sharper.

If time travel is possible, then immortals... surely they might be real?
What if... what if it's my own "chance"?

He propped himself up, his body heavy and aching.

As you push open the door, the crisp, clear air of the early autumn mountains rushes in.

My gaze shot out and crashed into a vast, silent, frozen expanse of blue waves.

mountain.

Mountains!

The mountains of your province are not gentle hills, but rather raging torrents suddenly stirred up by tremendous force!

The mountain ridge is rugged and steep, like the still-warm broken pieces of green jade left behind after the giant god wielded his axe to split the heavens.

Deep green, dark green, pale green, yellowish-green with an autumnal feel... countless shades of green are roughly kneaded together and splashed on every fold, every cliff, and every crevice.

The peaks pierced through the low-hanging clouds, and the exposed rock walls reflected a cold, hard gray-white light in the thin sunlight. The clouds were not soft veils, but heavy, stagnant, and damp cotton wool, flowing along the mountainside.

The nights are pitch black and extremely oppressive, but once the sun comes out, the mountain scenery in your province becomes absolutely stunning!
Qi Yun withdrew his gaze and looked towards the courtyard gate, where the banquet was still in full swing.

Several greasy square tables were pushed together. Breakfast was over, and the tables were littered with cups, plates, and leftover food. Several village women who had been helping were quickly clearing away the dishes, making a clattering sound.

A few tables were still occupied, mostly by elderly men and young boys, chatting leisurely about everyday matters over the leftover food and bulk liquor.

"Hey! The college student is awake?" A plump aunt carrying a large winnowing basket spotted Qi Yun and immediately called out to him, her face beaming with a simple and warm smile.

"You had a good time yesterday, didn't you? Come on, sit down. Auntie will make you some hot hangover soup, and a bowl of noodles with two eggs!"

Qi Yun's stomach was churning, and he quickly waved his hand, "No, Auntie, my head hurts terribly." His voice was still a little weak.

"Hey, college students are so easily spoiled!" An old man next to me, smoking a pipe, grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. "Sit down and rest, have some hot tea."

Just then, a figure staggered in through the courtyard gate; it was Zhao Xinmin.

He was in a worse state than Qi Yun; his face was sallow, his eyes were swollen, and he walked as if he were walking on cotton, looking like he was about to collapse at any moment.

Clearly, as the groom, he endured several times more firepower than Qi Yun last night.

"Old Qi!" Zhao Xinmin grinned when he saw Qi Yun, his voice hoarse and nasal. "Sorry... yesterday... hiccup... it was too chaotic..." He hiccuped, and a strong smell of alcohol wafted out.

"fine."

Qi Yun forced a smile and sat down on a bench near the courtyard wall, avoiding the noise of the banquet.

Zhao Xinmin plopped down next to him, his body limp as a noodle, leaning against the earthen wall and panting.

The plump auntie brought over two bowls of steaming, murky soup, saying it was made with old ginger, brown sugar, and some unknown herb, and was a cure for hangovers.

Qi Yun thanked him, took a small sip, and tasted the spicy and slightly sweet flavor. A warm sensation flowed down his throat, soothing his stomach a little.

"Xinmin," Qi Yun said carefully, looking at Zhao Xinmin's dejected appearance, "Yesterday, I heard some of you talking about Shenxian Mountain, and I'd like to go for a visit!"

"Really? You still remember that? Oh well, let's just treat it as sightseeing. How about tomorrow? I'll probably be done with my business by then, and I'll take you up there!"

"I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon, it's a bit too rushed. Anyway, I don't have anything to do today, and I have a headache, so I might as well go out for a walk, get some fresh air, and sober up."

"I'll just wander around by myself, not going too deep into the mountains, just enjoying the scenery at the foot of the mountain." Qi Yun tried to sound casual.

"Okay, it's not far anyway! If we go now, we'll be back this afternoon!" Zhao Xinmin wiped his face, trying to cheer himself up.

There's nothing really dangerous about Shenxian Mountain. Zhao Xinmin went there with his friends when he was a child and nothing happened. Qi Yun is a grown man now, so there's nothing to worry about!

"Just outside the village, to the west, do you see that little river?"
After stepping across the river on the stones, there was a clear path leading up the mountain.

As you climb higher, the forest gets denser and denser until you reach your destination.

Whatever you do, don't go into those rocky crevices that seem to lead nowhere!

Getting lost is no laughing matter!

Just take a stroll around the edge of the woods; the scenery... well, it's nothing special.

He yawned again, clearly exhausted.

"Xinmin! Come and lend a hand!" someone called from the other end of the yard.

"Hey! Coming!" Zhao Xinmin responded, leaning against the wall to stand up. He gave Qi Yun an apologetic wry smile. "Well... Lao Qi, be careful, walk slowly, and rest if you're still dizzy. I... I have to go now. Please forgive me for any inconvenience!"

After saying that, he stumbled and shuffled toward the direction of the shout.

Qi Yun watched his figure disappear into the corner of the courtyard, then looked down at the murky soup in the bowl.

He gulped down the rest, the spicy sensation shooting straight to his head, which jolted his drowsy mind awake.

He stood up, and the auntie still made him noodles with an egg poached on top.

After finishing his meal, he didn't greet anyone. He went back to his room, grabbed his military green crossbody bag, stuffed in a few steamed buns, and tightened his slightly oversized, gray polyester jacket, which belonged to this era.

He turned and walked towards the west end of the village, the sunlight falling on him and casting a long, thin shadow.

(End of this chapter)