Chapter Twenty-two Who Grants the Mortal Realm a Glimpse of White Hair (I)

　　It is said:

　　A beauty’s smile makes the years delightful,

　　Yet after time has passed, silence fills the world.

　　Even if all the splendor of three thousand lifetimes existed,

　　It would not surpass a single smile of beauty.

　　After Li Lingyue stayed at the Temple of Great Peace, she studied daily with Lin Chaoyang: sitting in meditation, practicing calligraphy and talisman-drawing, martial arts and swordplay, fortune-telling and astrology, medicine and pharmacology—basic Daoist training.

　　Yet Lingyue’s heart was not in these. To her, they were all but fleeting clouds. What moved her heart was waking each morning to find Chaoyang beside her, preparing delicious meals, taking her to roam through rivers and mountains. That was what she longed for.

　　Truly:

　　A fated bond has its roots in three lifetimes;

　　One chance encounter gathers longing at once.

　　Beneath the bright moon we meet again,

　　Faces full of joy, with no trace of sorrow.

　　One morning, her sweet dream was disturbed. She awoke reluctantly to find Lin Chaoyang gone, then heard a gentle knock at her door. Rising, she dabbed cinnabar on her brow, put on rouge, and went with him for morning practice.

　　The place was the rear mountain of the temple: lotus ponds, flowing streams, rocky bridges, and evergreen bamboo, a blessed land steeped in heaven’s energy and the essence of sun and moon.

　　Lin Chaoyang said, “This place holds great spiritual energy, perfect for martial training. My sect has a method called ‘The Empty Mirror Reflecting the Moon.’ It will be a good introduction for you, Yue’er.”

　　Lingyue rejoiced, asking eagerly, “Then Brother Chaoyang, please teach me.”

　　Chaoyang sat cross-legged and said, “First close your eyes. Guide your breath into the dantian, let it rest a moment, then exhale. Repeat this. Three times a day, each time for half a stick of incense.”

　　Lingyue asked innocently, “Brother Chaoyang, where is the dantian?”

　　He rolled his eyes and replied, “Your lower abdomen.”

　　So Lingyue began her practice. Closing her eyes, she drew breath into her dantian, which then felt like a furnace, refining all it held. She sensed a stream of energy rising along her spine to her head. Suddenly she felt as though she soared to the mountaintop, the waterfall flowing upward, as if it were her very breath.

　　Seeing this, Chaoyang sighed, “Yue’er indeed has natural talent!”

　　At noon he said, “Since your foundation is good, let me teach you a sword technique.”

　　Lingyue clapped in delight: “What Brother Xi Yuan teaches, Yue’er will study diligently. It is only that I fear to trouble you.”

　　Chaoyang smiled, “Yue’er jests. Where is the trouble?”

　　He then demonstrated a sword form called Startled Swan. Thirteen movements, each unique, soft yet mysterious, with graceful and ethereal footwork.

　　Lingyue praised endlessly, then asked, puzzled, “Such exquisite swordplay—I have never seen it, nor did my teachers at the palace ever teach me. Why?”

　　Chaoyang laughed, “Silly Yue’er. Palace tutors are battlefield generals; their style is unlike that of the jianghu.”

　　Realizing this, she accepted the sword he handed her. It was beautifully crafted, with both blades inscribed with the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness of the Grand Supreme Lord, 591 characters in clerical script, strokes rounded and powerful.

　　Lingyue admired it, “This sword is so fine, it hardly seems of this world.”

　　Chaoyang replied, “You are perceptive. It is said to be of the divine realm.”

　　She asked curiously, “Does it have a name?”

　　He answered, “Master said it is called Ran-Jing (‘Stained and Pure’). ‘Stained’ refers to attachment and ignorance; ‘Pure’ to detachment and the Dharma’s essence. One who comprehends this union attains the Great Way.”

　　Thus it was said:

　　One sword draws forth the Way,

　　Moonlight and sunrise discussing heaven and earth.

　　Lingyue practiced, and with her quick wit soon imitated eight or nine parts out of ten.

　　The name “Startled Swan” came from Cao Zhi’s Ode to the Nymph of the Luo River:

　　Graceful as a startled swan, supple as a swimming dragon.

　　The sword had thirteen moves: First Sight, Jade Beauty, Distant Gaze, Turning Eyes, Scattered Thoughts, Wandering, Stirred Heart, Growing Admiration, Flowing Words, Joyful, Hidden Sorrow, Parting, Lingering Affection.

　　This swordplay resembled a maiden’s graceful movements. When Lingyue performed it, she was as soft as water, charming and elegant. Chaoyang gazed upon her, utterly captivated.

　　When she finished, she called, “Brother Xi Yuan, Yue’er is done. What next?”

　　He came back to himself, replying, “You learn quickly. Now we must spar together, to find what is lacking.”

　　They crossed blades many times, time passing unnoticed until dusk.

　　Afterward Lingyue played the jade flute, Three Variations on Plum Blossoms. Chaoyang composed verses in response:

　　First Variation:

　　The plum blossoms toy with the high winds,

　　Light robes flutter free.

　　A trace of shyness hides beneath green leaves,

　　A glimmer of joy beneath red robes.

　　Second Variation:

　　Plum blossoms greet the spring tune,

　　Auspicious snow melts into jade skin.

　　Fallen petals mistaken for intent,

　　A fleeting dream of the mortal world—who laughs at whom?

　　Third Variation:

　　Plum blossoms summon the immortals,

　　Mist and clouds, birds in chorus.

　　Butterflies dance, bees fly, colors blaze,

　　Loyal hearts write to Heaven’s ninth tier.

　　Seasons passed—spring fled like the wind, summer came gently.

　　One day Chaoyang took Lingyue fishing by a stream outside the temple. Willows lined both banks, travelers passed along the road, fish swam carefree.

　　But Chaoyang’s fishing was unlike others: no hook, no bait, only a Daoist incantation.

　　Lingyue begged, “Brother Xi Yuan, let me try this game!”

　　He took her hand and traced the spell in the air. At its close, a circle linked back to its start. Suddenly fish leapt from the water, spun in the air, then splashed back, sending droplets flying. Sunlight split into rainbows that fell upon Lingyue, making her seem like a celestial maiden.

　　Chaoyang’s heart stirred: “Yue’er, you are truly beautiful.”

　　She blushed, lowering her head, whispering, “If Brother Xi Yuan thinks me so, then I will adorn myself thus for you in future.”

　　See the beauty’s smile—

　　Even immortals pale in comparison.

　　In youthful days,

　　Feelings are deep and true.

　　In autumn, he led her to gather herbs in the mountains. Holding her hand, he traversed the vast peaks, watching forests aflame with color. A gust blew sand into her eyes; he stopped, gently opening them with his hands and blowing the dust away.

　　The years of youth are precious,

　　Every word and gesture unforgettable.

　　In winter’s snow, they sat meditating in the temple. Chaoyang shaped two snowmen with his qi. Lingyue ran forward, laughing: “The left is Brother Xi Yuan, the right is Yue’er.”

　　All this the Grand Preceptor observed. Yet fate is beyond even great wisdom and power. He sighed: “If it is destiny, it is also calamity. With attachment comes bondage; letting go brings freedom.”

　　Meanwhile, in court, since Crown Prince Li Xian began governing, he handled affairs with fairness and clarity, winning praise. Hearing that Di Renjie had been promoted to Censor for rectifying Emperor Xiaojing’s case, Xian admired him and wished to learn investigation skills.

　　Soon Li Xian visited him. After courtesies, Di asked, “What brings Your Highness?”

　　Xian smiled: “I come to congratulate you on promotion, and to learn some investigative skills.”

　　Di was startled, thinking, Why does he ask this? He replied modestly: “That case was simple; people overthought it. I was but fortunate to gain false fame. As for skill, little to teach. But in judgment I have some insight, which I may share if Your Highness wishes.”

　　Xian rejoiced and thanked him, and Di shared his methods openly.

　　Yet the world is never free of suspicion. Empress Wu heard of this and thought, Di rose by the Xiaojing case. Why does Xian seek him out to learn investigations? What is his intent?

　　She ordered: “Summon Ming Chongyan to court for secret inquiry.”

　　The Nine-Tailed Fox, hiding in a maid to evade capture, once sought to possess Wu herself, but as a celestial fox she was protected by divine power. Failing, it instead possessed Pang Tongshan to deceive Ming Chongyan, then impersonated him to meet the Empress outside the palace.

　　That night, “Ming Chongyan” (the fox) told her: “Since the Crown Prince governs well, all praise him. Shall I divine his fate?”

　　Wu agreed. After feigned divination, he said hesitantly, “The hexagram shows…the Crown Prince unfit to inherit. Prince Ying resembles Taizong. Prince Xiang’s destiny is most noble.”

　　Wu grew doubtful: Truly, they are but frivolous men, knowing little of rule!

　　Later, wandering Taiye Lake, watching birds play, she again mourned Li Hong. She ordered Shangguan Wan’er to deliver The Model of Lesser Yang Politics to Li Xian. He accepted respectfully, though puzzled.

　　Wan’er, seeing his weariness, pitied him: “Your Highness, take care. Do not let Princess Lingyue return to find you haggard.”

　　He smiled faintly, “I will. Thank you.”

　　Soon Wu sent The Classic of Filial Sons. Li Xian read with sorrow. Days later she sent a letter:

　　Since Hong’s death, rumors say it was your doing. I do not believe it, so I had Lord Di clear your name. Yet I miss you. With Yue’er gone, you bear many burdens. Care for state affairs, so your father may rest. I will visit you soon.

　　Xian read with growing unease: the letter reproached him at every line. He sighed, “Since governing, I have given all. Why does Mother not trust me?”

　　Wan’er consoled him: “Her Majesty often reads Book of Later Han. Why not gather scholars to annotate it? At the right moment, present it to her, and she will be pleased.”

　　Enlightened, Xian summoned Zhang Da’an, Liu Nayen, Ge Xiyuan, Xu Shuya, Cheng Xuanyi, Shi Cangjie, and Zhou Baoning to annotate Fan Ye’s Book of Later Han.

　　With Lingyue absent, Wan’er often joined to help. Night after night they worked until midnight, tireless. Inevitably rumors spread of affection between them.

　　One day, Wu invited Wan’er to play Go. After a few moves she said, “Wan’er, you are wise and virtuous. Xian only plays with birds and chickens, lacking ambition. Do not spend so much time with him. Better to visit Yue’er at the temple.”

　　Wan’er replied, “Yes, Your Majesty. After my duties, I will visit the Princess.”

　　Yet secretly, she continued slipping away to the Crown Prince’s side.