Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 27: Chapter 27: Daoist Taboos, Refining and Nourishing the Primordial Spirit

Black night, not a spark of light.

Torrential rain crashed down as thunder rumbled, and the sudden flashes of lightning occasionally tore through the endless darkness.

Crimson blood flowed everywhere, and from far off came incessant noises—a cacophony that buzzed horribly in the ear.

Ten years ago...

A twelve-year-old Zhang Fan knelt in the rain, clutching the body of his mother who had long lost her breath, crying his heart out—utterly broken and helpless...

”Zhang Lingzong...”

A howl came from afar, roaring through the pouring rain, almost loud enough to drown out the thunder.

The small, helpless Zhang Fan raised his head mechanically, eyes dead with despair, staring at the infinite black night as if trying to see and make sense of everything around him.

The thunder roared on, growing ever louder.

Under the fierce wind and storms, he was as fragile as a dying, whimpering little beast.

”Don’t cry...”

Just then, a calm yet gentle voice spoke up behind him. Zhang Fan froze. The downpour still came, but it no longer fell on him. He looked up—somehow, an umbrella was held over his head.

Zhang Fan turned instinctively, and saw a girl about his age walk out from the blackness, holding a black umbrella and standing quietly behind him.

”Who...who are you?” Zhang Fan asked mechanically, only numbness in his eyes.

”My name’s Jiang Lai!”

The girl’s voice was soft, her clear eyes even more ethereal under a sudden streak of lightning tearing the sky.

”Jiang Lai...”

Morning. Sunlight slanted through the window, falling across the room as Zhang Fan sat up with a start, his pajamas already soaked with sweat.

”Another dream!”

Zhang Fan stared blankly around his room, unconsciously pressed his forehead, and exhaled deeply.

Ever since fighting Wen He that day, forcibly breaking through the [Celestial Net] Divine Evil, he’d been dreaming often—always about the car crash when he was twelve...

After that car crash ten years ago, Zhang Fan developed traumatic selective amnesia—so many things he simply couldn’t remember...

Maybe it’s cultivation, but lately fragments keep leaping out—his dreams in chaos, even Jiang Lai showing up at random...

”Daytime thoughts make for night-time dreams...” Zhang Fan shook his head.

Perhaps, those three encounters on Zhenwu Mountain made Jiang Lai unforgettable. He’d asked Taoist Po Jie to look into her, but still hadn’t gotten any answer.

”Got deliveries to run today?!”

Zhang Fan grabbed his phone, checked it, and his face changed—in a flash he was on his feet and, after a quick wash, rushed out the door.

...

Yujing City, outskirts.

On a quiet mountain road, the Five Spirits Rainbow Light glided along—company’s most valuable ride.

Bai Buran said, the Five Spirits Rainbow Light is the best vehicle for a cultivator.

As they say, ”Spiritual Qi of the five directions soars above, sun, moon, and stars paint a dazzling rainbow.”

Just the name alone carries grand momentum—like a great river in flood, vast enough to fill the mountains and valleys; so lively it almost snatches the essence of creation itself. For a cultivator, it’s nothing less than a lucky charm.

Of course, the real reason: it’s cheap, and nearly unbreakable.

”Zhang, I heard you just broke up?”

On the road, Old Yu, behind the wheel, glanced over and suddenly popped the question.

”Who...who told you that?” Zhang Fan stiffened, blurting out the question.

”From Fanfan’s Moments...”

Wen He spoke gently, smiling as she pulled out her phone. She opened Zhang Fan’s Moments—there, the latest was a pic of the school field, with a syrupy, melodramatic caption:

”Returning to old haunts, like carving a boat to search for a sword—only that year, surpasses all others.”

”Damn...”

Zhang Fan’s face turned crimson, ears burning. He whipped out his phone and hurriedly deleted the post.

Ah, people. When you’re heartbroken, your Consciousness is restless, thoughts flying in all directions. However dramatic, however sappy—it all feels right at the time. Only when you sober up does hindsight hit, and you wish you could slap yourself silly.

That person absolutely wasn’t me!!!

”I get it...it was your Consciousness acting up, definitely not you...” Old Yu grinned, his smile carrying layers of meaning.

”Happens to the young. That sort of heartbreak...it’s like your ancestors’ graves have sprouted lucky green smoke...”

Meaning: if your heart isn’t dead, the Way can’t begin. The Primordial Spirit resides in the Profound Passage—between the brows; the Consciousness dwells in the heart.

So, someone who’s crossed the gate of heartbreak is primed for cultivation. Once your heart is dead, and you suppress all those thoughts and emotions, you can see your Primordial Spirit—then the Way arises.

Sadly, most who get dumped, their Consciousness becomes restless—consumed by thoughts and feelings. Not only can they not Embrace Unity and Guard Silence, but their own energy fields crash to rock bottom instead.

So, in heartbreak, people’s lives, studies, and work usually get royally screwed up, too.

”Not everyone’s born talented—able to discard all thoughts and feelings at the Gate of Emotion...” Old Yu sighed.

For a cultivator, nothing’s more terrifying than a mind swarming with stray thoughts.

Even with high-level cultivation, a single day of Consciousness turmoil in the Great Night Not Bright, and you could be damned by Heaven.

Thoughts themselves are poison, unless...

”Divine Demon Holy Embryo...Old Yu, I heard there’s an Inner Core Technique called Divine Demon Holy Embryo, that can refine thoughts as medicine...” Zhang Fan said.

Whoosh—

As soon as the words left his mouth, the car swerved a little. Old Yu stared ahead, both hands gripping the wheel. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke slowly.

”Divine Demon Holy Embryo is the most vicious technique under heaven... It’s ancient beyond words, always spoken of with awe, but I’ve never seen anyone succeed in cultivating it.”

”Refining thoughts as medicine—even crazier than the Reversing Immortal Method!” Old Yu paused, then continued,

”Zhenwu Mountain has a Technique called Heart Demon Guide. It’s about nurturing thoughts into demons, raising them until mature—and then slicing them all down at once...”

This method was inspired by [Divine Demon Holy Embryo]. But in the end, it still slays the thoughts. Even so, it’s deadly risky—though not a tenth as terrifying as [Divine Demon Holy Embryo].

”Divine Demon Holy Embryo—deadliest in all the world. Hard to believe anyone could ever truly cultivate this way.”

As he spoke, Old Yu shook his head, absolute certainty in his expression. In his eyes, this just isn’t a Technique mortals could ever master—like playing with fire, it’s no different from suicide.

”Daoist Sect has ten thousand Dharma Lineages, it really does contain all things!” Zhang Fan was struck by this, growing even more fascinated by the wondrous world of cultivation.

”Daoist Sect’s countless Dharma Lineages, and yet all paths lead to the same place—Embrace Unity is the Way of all under heaven...” Old Yu changed tack and said, ”But, there’s only one kind of Technique that’s forbidden—down all ages, cultivators should never touch it...”

”What is it?” Zhang Fan reflexively asked.

”Cultivation is just extinguishing the Consciousness, preserving the Primordial Spirit, and refining medicine for nourishment...”

”There are countless ways to refine medicine. But one of them is an absolute Daoist taboo—the enemy of the world...”

At this, Old Yu paused, then suddenly asked, ”Zhang, you’ve heard of ’replacing like with like’?”

”Of course, old folks say that all the time!” Zhang Fan nodded.

He recalled back in sophomore year, when Li Yishan hurt his arm playing basketball, and his mom brought pork knuckles every day, saying ’replace like with like.’

”Among cultivators, this idea exists, too... Some crazy folks think, since we’re refining the Primordial Spirit, why not replace like with like...”

”You mean...” Zhang Fan’s brow jumped, as if he’d suddenly figured it out.

”Down the ages, in Daoist Sects, there have always been outcasts—those who nourish their Primordial Spirit with others’ as medicine!”