Chapter 14: The Pure Origin Golden Elixir

After a moment of deliberation, the group fell silent in unison.

Everyone sensed something was amiss.

Because... the bearded man was still draped in the bear’s pelt, playing with it.

Not only that, he had pressed himself against the skinned bear carcass, pawing at it, though no one could tell what he was doing—only the strange, squelching sounds could be heard.

Their hearts skipped a beat, a foreboding feeling settling over them.

“Boss, what are you doing?” one of them asked in a trembling voice.

Hearing this, the bearded man stopped moving.

The odd "squelch" sounds ceased as well.

He stiffly straightened up and slowly turned around.

Wrapped in the bear’s pelt, his subordinates couldn’t see his face, only a pair of bloodshot eyes.

Those eyes were filled with hatred and malice, the malevolence almost spilling out.

Blood dripped from the shattered bear’s mouth.

It turned out the strange squelching noise was the bearded man gnawing on the bear’s flesh.

“Boss, you...”

The men felt a chill and tried to flee.

Behind them came a terrifying bear roar.

This was quickly followed by screams, the sound of bones breaking, flesh tearing, and chewing.

After a long while, a huge black shadow fiercely pushed its way out of the stone temple.

Judging by its appearance, it was the black bear from last night, but in a sorry state.

Its head was covered in intersecting scars; besides the gash on its shoulder that resembled a monk’s robe, several deep wounds cut through its body.

The wounds varied in width, with flesh turned outward, revealing blackened, rotting meat—these injuries were caused when the bearded man and his men skinned the bear.

The black bear pushed outward, now even larger than last night.

The temple door it had widened before was no longer enough—it had to be expanded further.

The sound of tearing and scraping echoed as the bear’s wounded fur rubbed against the temple door, leaving behind a stench of blood and black ichor, along with shards of stone.

At that moment, a yellow talisman affixed to the door flickered and floated down, landing squarely on the bear’s head.

With a sudden burst, the talisman ignited spontaneously, erupting into a blazing firestorm that engulfed the black bear like a towering torch.

The bear howled mournfully as it was consumed by flames, frantically charging and rolling on the muddy ground, trying to extinguish the fire.

But it was all in vain—the flames only grew fiercer until, within moments, the bear had been reduced to a burning effigy.

Eventually, the agonized howls ceased, and the fiery bear figure burned out, leaving behind a giant bear-shaped imprint on the ground.

In the center of the imprint lay a heap of black ash.

The wind scattered the ash until it vanished without a trace.

Soon after, rain began again, washing away the bear’s mark and restoring calm.

Only the heavily damaged temple door, stained with dried black blood, and scattered remnants of limbs and flesh inside the temple bore witness to the earlier events.

...

Elsewhere,

A faint smile played at Zhang Jingqing’s lips.

He intended to eliminate the straw-cloaked thieves who immediately sought to plunder upon entering the temple.

Yet, since they hadn’t struck outright, Zhang Jingqing chose not to have Zhang Zhiwei attack them directly, instead setting a test.

Should they pass, the matter would be settled.

Fail, and they would meet a deserved fate.

This was why Zhang Jingqing refrained from having Zhang Zhiwei use thunder to annihilate the spirit residing in the bear’s pelt outright.

If the thieves heeded his warning and left, the black bear’s corpse, buried underground for a time, would return to dust.

But if they greedily dug it up, they would surely suffer backlash—and then the talisman Zhang Jingqing had left on the temple door would take effect.

In this way, he could eliminate the thieves without conscience or breaking his precepts.

As a celestial master, Zhang Jingqing had long subdued his restless mind and understood himself so well that even if he had slain the thieves outright, he would be free of any psychological burden.

He acted thus partly to teach Zhang Zhiwei about the unpredictability of human nature, to broaden his experience.

And partly to instruct him on how to handle such situations.

...

At that moment, Zhang Zhiwei noticed the smile on Zhang Jingqing’s face.

“Master, so you mean they are courting death by their own folly, and you feel no guilt?”

“You should be the one with a clear conscience!” Zhang Jingqing replied. “Zhiwei, do you know why I did this?”

“You must have your reasons, Master...”

Zhang Zhiwei intended to joke that the master must be ill, but seeing Zhang Jingqing’s serious expression, he knew to reply earnestly to avoid a beating.

“Hmm... Master, you must have your deeper meaning!”

Zhang Jingqing, not catching the joke, nodded and said:

“Indeed. You’ve always wanted to tame the restless mind, but do you truly understand what the restless mind is?”

Zhang Zhiwei answered, “It is the agitated, unsettled heart!”

Zhang Jingqing nodded. “Exactly. The restless mind is like a fierce monkey, violent and restless. It dwells within us, always seeking to rebel and escape. To it, our body is like an alchemical furnace, constantly refining it until it transforms into a 'golden elixir.'”

“Golden elixir?”

Zhang Zhiwei frowned, sensing the conversation was becoming esoteric, expecting talk of spirit infants and fusion stages next.

Seeing his confusion, Zhang Jingqing explained:

“The golden elixir is a metaphor; it doesn’t mean an actual bead forms inside you. It symbolizes completeness, the condensation of essence and spirit into a perfect whole. It means being perfectly balanced—your sharpness tempered, your conduct graceful—in every aspect of life, in every action and movement, you achieve harmony and ease.”

“This is a state of mind and temperament at its peak. If you actually have a bead inside, that’s not a golden elixir—that’s a serious illness!”

“That’s quite a vivid metaphor, Master. I understand the refinement of essence and tempering of sharpness, but the part about conduct and behavior being ‘round’ everywhere... do you mean I should become smooth-talking and slick?”

Zhang Zhiwei asked, for in his mind, ‘smooth’ was a pejorative term associated with insincerity.

Zhang Jingqing replied, “This ‘roundness’ means your actions are coherent and well-founded, leaving you with a clear conscience. It’s not about being slick or insincere.”

He continued, “This is necessary because refining the restless mind is the process of smoothing out the cruelty, anger, restlessness, and various delusions within your heart.”

“During this time, you must focus more on cultivating your heart, uphold your precepts, and never casually commit baseless killings. Remember, the more you act against your conscience, the wider the rifts in your heart become, and the stronger the restless mind grows, making it harder to tame.”

“These thieves didn’t err in front of you, yet if you killed them based solely on your assumptions, even if you feel nothing now, it would create a rift in your heart—a future stumbling block on your path of cultivation.”

“Master, I understand!”

After hearing Zhang Jingqing’s explanation, Zhang Zhiwei pondered deeply. Indeed, people can change, but past deeds remain unchanged. The reasons for immediate actions only apply to the moment.

It was like Lu Xun’s essay “The Kite,” where Lu Xun, driven by fleeting anger, senselessly trampled his brother’s kite. He felt no remorse at the time, but years later, when he came to understand himself, this became a thorn in his heart, causing him restless nights filled with regret.

If a kite could have such an effect, how much more so the casual killing of a group of people?

Naturally, Zhang Jingqing did not wish for his precious disciple to face a difficult path.

Thus, from the very beginning, he sought to lay the smoothest road for him.