16. The Mountain God's Memory

"You're lying! Master doesn't have any other disciples!"
Chen Huangpi jumped to his feet, shouting, his face—now much fairer—flushed with anger.
He was furious, and also panicked.
How could Master possibly have other disciples?
He and Master had depended on each other for so many years.
Master had never lied to him. If there were other disciples, how could Master hide it from him?
"I'm not lying to you. I saw it with my own eyes—your master has many disciples. You're not the only one, and certainly not the first."
"Ah! This is infuriating!"
Chen Huangpi shouted in rage, cursing, "You wicked fox, don't you dare sow discord between me and my master. I'm telling you, I am Master's only disciple—the sole heir to the Pure Immortal Temple!"
If what this Fox Mountain God said was true—
If Master had other disciples, then that meant there would be a senior disciple, a second senior, and so on...
He didn't even know how many seniors there might be, all with ranks above his.
According to the rules, they would have more legitimate claim than he did.
After Master passed away, wouldn't they compete with him for the inheritance of Pure Immortal Temple?
Why should they?
They weren't as devoted as he was!
"Trust me."
"If I speak even half a false word, may my soul fall forever into the flames of karma, suffering endless torment for all eternity."
The Fox Mountain God's voice was urgent—necessarily so, for it was already burning.
The true fire within the stove was too strange.
Even its idol was set aflame.
Only Chen Huangpi could save it.
"Let me out from this stove and I can share my memories with you. Once you see them, you'll know if I'm telling the truth."
Hearing this—
"Let me think about it,"
Chen Huangpi gritted his teeth, his expression shifting, hands clenching unconsciously.
He sat before the stove, head bowed in thought.
The searing flames cast a red glow over his forehead.
"Hurry, this fire is too sinister. I can't hold on much longer,"
the Fox Mountain God wailed incessantly.
At some point, a brass oil lamp drifted into the kitchen.
It was Huang Er.
"Huang Er, should I believe it?"
"Does Master really have other disciples?"
"Will my senior brothers take Pure Immortal Temple from me?"
Chen Huangpi looked up, asking three questions in quick succession, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Are you afraid?"
The brass oil lamp looked at Chen Huangpi with pity, conjuring two slender hands to wipe away his tears.
"Mm..."
"I'm afraid Master doesn't love me as much as I thought,"
Chen Huangpi's voice was dejected. He feared he wasn't Master's only disciple.
He feared his senior brothers would seize his inheritance.
And he feared Master had hidden many things from him.
"It's all right. If it comes to that, we can just leave Pure Immortal Temple and the Ten-Thousand Mountains and go out into the world,"
the brass oil lamp assured him.
It was both sympathetic and excited—
For this was a good opportunity.
If what the Fox Mountain God said was true, Chen Huangpi would be heartbroken.
All it had to do was fan the flames, sow a little discord between master and disciple, and sprinkle in a bit of conspiracy.
Chen Huangpi was inexperienced—easy to sway.
Once out in the world, wouldn't the sky be the limit?
Who cared about this wretched Pure Immortal Temple in the Ten-Thousand Mountains? Every extra day here was suffering.
"Thank you, Huang Er,"
Chen Huangpi, moved, turned to the burning Fox Mountain God in the stove and said,
"I'll let you out, but don't play any tricks. I'm warning you, this is Pure Immortal Temple. If you lie to me, your death will be miserable!"
His tone was resolute.
The Fox Mountain God immediately replied, "I would never deceive you."
Though it was a mountain god, this was the Ten-Thousand Mountains.

Especially after all the incense it had accumulated over the years was sucked away by that white-robed old Daoist in a single breath, then burned senseless by the strange true fire in the stove.
Even if it wanted to play tricks, it no longer had the strength.
Once Chen Huangpi made up his mind, he no longer hesitated.
He picked up the fire tongs, reached into the stove, and clamped onto the Fox Mountain God's idol, pulling it out.
No sooner had it emerged than the true fire, like a parasite clinging to bone, vanished instantly.
It seemed the flames were confined to the stove.
"Thank you, young sir,"
the Fox Mountain God let out a long breath, finally able to catch itself.
"Enough talk,"
Chen Huangpi urged, "I want to see it now, or Master will be back any minute!"
The Fox Mountain God felt bitter. It had wanted a moment to recover its strength, but Chen Huangpi was in no mood to wait.
"Look into my eyes! Watch closely!"
The Fox Mountain God's eyes flickered with a strange light.
Chen Huangpi met its gaze; his own eyes soon turned vacant.
One by one, bizarre characters—like birds, flowers, fish, and insects—floated up from his eyes.
"Ahhhhh..."
The Fox Mountain God screamed; two faint streams of divine blood trickled from its clay eyes.
"Brother Huang, what on earth is hidden in this boy's head?"
It was terrified.
In that fleeting instant, its soul had brushed against something dreadful—
Something weak as a newborn, yet not even fully in contact, when suddenly, like a starving ghost ravenous for ten thousand years, it took a vicious bite out of the Fox Mountain God's soul.
The brass oil lamp glanced at it dismissively,
"Brother Huang? You're not fit to call me that. Even calling me Grandpa Huang is beneath me—a mere mountain god, trying to get close to me."
It spoke with no courtesy, giving the Fox Mountain God no respect.
Had the Fox Mountain God been at full strength, or had this been outside Pure Immortal Temple, it would have played dead.
But here, nothing worked.
The Fox Mountain God had no time for anger; a crack split open its idol.
Its soul, bitten by whatever lay within Chen Huangpi's mind, was severely wounded.
A once proud mountain god—incense dried up, soul devoured, idol fractured—
It was a scene of utter misery.
"If I'd known, I'd have preferred death,"
it wailed, then fell unconscious, unable to resist.
The brass oil lamp ignored it, watching over Chen Huangpi with calm vigilance.
At that moment—
Chen Huangpi's consciousness sank into a world of light and shadow.
Everything seemed white;
His perspective was odd, always staring up at the sky.
Boom, boom, boom—
Thunder rumbled endlessly across the heavens.
Chen Huangpi realized,
"These are the Fox Mountain God's memories; I'm seeing through its eyes. But why can't it move? Doesn't its neck get sore?"
Day one—
Thunder echoed, the world was all white.
He couldn't tell night from day—
All he could see were spiderwebs of lightning sprawling across the sky.
Day two—
Still the same thunder.
His ears were ringing, his eyes dazzled.
"I can't take this anymore!"
He was only a nine-year-old child, at an age for play and mischief—how could he endure such torment?
From the third to the sixth day—
A young man in a dark blue Daoist robe appeared above him.
The man's robe was identical in style to the one Chen Huangpi wore.
At his waist hung a jade token.
Chen Huangpi saw the inscription: Xu Qingshan.
A pang of jealousy struck him: "We're both Master's disciples—why don't I have a jade token? Master is playing favorites."
He felt hurt.
At that moment, Xu Qingshan looked down and studied him.
"Finally found it."
"He's not looking at me, but at the Fox Mountain God,"
Chen Huangpi realized, but it didn't make him feel any better. He shouted,
"I am the only heir to Pure Immortal Temple! I've cared for Master for so long—the inheritance should be mine! Don't you dare compete with me!"
Xu Qingshan beckoned, and Chen Huangpi felt himself soar through the air.
His perspective shifted, and the world unfolded around him.
Only then did he realize—he was a stone, only a small part exposed above the ground, which was why he could only gaze up at the sky.
"So the Fox Mountain God was made of stone!?"
Chen Huangpi was dumbfounded; he had thought the Fox Mountain God was already a mountain god at that time, just fond of gazing at the heavens.
After all, before Master lost his mind, he too liked to look up at the sky.
"But if the Fox Mountain God was just a stone, how could there be memories?"
Puzzled, Chen Huangpi sensed it might have something to do with the thunder.
Perhaps there was some hidden principle or transformation at work.
Before he could figure it out, Xu Qingshan produced a carving knife.
Stone chips flew.
The stone grew smaller and smaller, until only a stone core the size of a baby's fist remained.
"What a pity—cracked, and the color hasn't permeated,"
Xu Qingshan sighed in disappointment,
"The good stones were all taken by my senior brothers. I'll just have to make do."
He then split the stone core in two with his knife.
Next, Xu Qingshan took a lump of yellow clay, reluctantly divided it in half, hesitated, put one half away, then split the remaining half again.
"The Yellow Spring can't be entered now."
"How could you not know how to enter the Yellow Spring?"
Chen Huangpi found this baffling.
When the earth dragon turns, the Yellow Spring spits up water, which mixes with the mud and surfaces.
When it ends, the yellow mud flows back down and, following the current, enters the Yellow Spring directly—
Master had told him this himself.
But Xu Qingshan didn't know...
Then Xu Qingshan pressed the two pieces of yellow clay onto the stone cores and began to knead them vigorously, muttering,
"The temple master is urging us on. I wonder how my senior brothers are faring? Will they find suitable rare stones for their idols?"
At these words, Chen Huangpi suddenly understood.
"You call him temple master, I call him master. You don't know how to enter the Yellow Spring—Master told me himself."
"So even among disciples, there are those closer and those more distant."
"Indeed, I am Master's most beloved disciple!"
This realization made Chen Huangpi happy.
Xu Qingshan kept kneading the yellow clay into the stone cores; the clay multiplied, and the stone cores softened, soon merging with the clay into a lump.
Suddenly, Chen Huangpi's vision went black—
He could see nothing more.
Who knew how much time had passed when, in a flash, everything brightened again.
His perspective changed; before he could see in all directions, now it was human-like, limited to what the eyes could see ahead.
Xu Qingshan regarded two life-sized idols before him, nodding in satisfaction.
"A fox and a yellow weasel. Senior brothers usually make only one, but I have two—so even if the consecration fails, the temple master shouldn't blame me."
With that, Xu Qingshan picked up the two idols and took off, shrinking the land with each step.
Ahead was a great mountain—
It was none other than Jade Qiong Mountain, the one Chen Huangpi knew best.
But the temple atop the mountain was different—vast, with many buildings and side halls, thousands of Daoists flying through the air as streaks of light entering the gates.
Each Daoist carried an idol—
Some were human, some animal, some he couldn't make out. All of them lifeless, awaiting consecration to become gods.
For a moment, Chen Huangpi was dazed—
because at night, Pure Immortal Temple looked just like this, only without so many Daoists.