Chapter Five: The Academy of Arts and Techniques

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The Way that can be spoken of is not the constant Way. The name that can be named is not the constant name.

Every day at the Academy of Daoist Arts and Techniques, the morning meditation begins at dawn, when the students rise to wash and prepare themselves. At the onset of the hour of the Boar in the evening, the meditation ends; lights are extinguished and all retire to sleep. Morning and evening, the Academy’s disciples take turns as timekeepers, striking the bell and wooden board at precise hours to signal waking or bedtime. According to the Academy’s rules, no one may indulge in extra sleep, regardless of the weather or season.

At dawn, after everyone has finished their ablutions, they gather in the courtyard by Drunken Heart Lake for the “morning altar.” At dusk, supper is served at the time of the Rooster, after which the disciples return to the same courtyard for the “evening altar,” where they study the teachings and hone their arts. At the hour of the Dog, the sound of the wooden board signals the end of activities, announcing bedtime. At the first hour of the Boar, the board is struck again, and all disciples must be in bed, silent, with no talking or laughter permitted.

For meals, the Academy has several dining halls known as “Faith Vegetarian Halls,” which provide a variety of foods for teachers and students. Although open to immortals and disciples alike, ninety percent of the meals are prepared for the mortal students; the immortals and spirits mostly partake of water and vegetarian fare.

For the past two days, the Young Lord Supreme has been showing his new roommate, Hua Sheng, around the Academy. The grounds are vast; it would take at least four or five days to become even somewhat familiar with them.

One afternoon, after changing into the Academy’s pale blue uniform and cloth shoes, the two strolled through the grounds. The robe’s wide sleeves were embroidered at the cuffs with double lines of purple-gold thread, which, on closer inspection, revealed themselves to be densely woven Daoist spells. The garments, though ample, felt as light and unburdensome as sportswear.

Stepping on the mossy stone path, Hua Sheng lifted his sleeve: “These robes are extraordinary. It’s as if I’m not wearing anything at all.”

The Young Lord Supreme replied, “Don’t underestimate them. The Academy’s robes are made from the finest fabric in all of Saint Peaceful Serenity, spun by the celestial silkworms raised by the Lady of Nine Heavens herself, and woven by her hand. Only the Academy’s disciples are entitled to wear them. What’s more, the Lady embroidered them with spells from the ‘Compendium of Ten Thousand Arts’ in purple-gold thread, greatly enhancing one’s magical abilities. Even when we go out, we shrink our robes and carry them with us.”

“So that’s how it is. I see I have much to learn from you.”

“Are you settling in well here in Saint Peaceful Serenity?” the Young Lord Supreme asked as they walked.

“Everything here is utterly different from my world. It’s fresh and strange. I never imagined such an otherworldly haven could exist. For mortals like us, it was always just a legend. Yet there truly are such things as immortals.”

“Saint Peaceful Serenity is vast. Here, the three races—immortals, mortals, and spirits—have coexisted for millennia. Though isolated from the mundane world, we are not primitive; we take an interest in worldly affairs, though we don’t interfere. The mortal world has seen rapid technological advancement in recent years, and we’ve adopted some of their innovations. Technology and magic need not be at odds; they can blend. To someone from a few decades ago, let alone a millennium, the technology of today would seem as magical as our arts.”

“Sometimes, when you run heedless and without restraint, the faster you go, the greater the danger. Everyone understands this, but few can act accordingly. Perhaps, if things truly spiral out of control, Saint Peaceful Serenity will not remain aloof.” The Young Lord Supreme’s voice was calm. “But who can say? Such problems are for others to ponder. We need only enjoy our freedom.”

He gestured around them. “The Academy is a place of learning and the cultivation of the Way—a site of exceptional geomancy. Legend has it this place was once the shell of the ancient divine beast, the Black Tortoise. The Book of Rites says: ‘The Black Tortoise is a turtle; its shell shields it from harm.’ The Black Tortoise’s shell contains the energies of heaven and earth, sun and moon. So this site was chosen as the foundation for the Academy.”

Hua Sheng asked, “I read that the Black Tortoise is both a turtle and a serpent. If the divine turtle became the Academy, what happened to the serpent?”

“In ancient times, most divine beasts became guardians, merging with the mountains and rivers. But the Black Tortoise’s serpent remains here too. The Academy’s founder sealed it in the Lingyan Tower atop the Black Tortoise’s Sacred Mountain, where it has slept in hibernation, encased in ten-thousand-year-old ice, for over a millennium. Each year at the Academy festival, all teachers and students ascend the mountain to pay respects to both the turtle and the serpent.”

He continued, “The central avenue of the Academy is called the ‘Holy Way of Spiritual Heaven,’ a hundred yards wide, leading straight to the northern Sacred Mountain. To the east are the living quarters and recreational grounds, libraries, and various halls. The west is devoted to teaching and cultivation, with over forty buildings in all.”

The two climbed the Sacred Mountain and found a cool pavilion halfway up to rest. Hua Sheng glanced up at the plaque above the pavilion: “Pavilion of Leisurely Steps.”

Speaking of his past before coming to Saint Peaceful Serenity, Hua Sheng recalled only that he’d boarded a cruise ship for the sake of Brother Xu, then fell into the sea. Everything else was a blank.

“You can’t remember anything?” the Young Lord Supreme inquired.

“I only remember boarding the ship, not how long I stayed. My only impression is of falling into the sea and seeing firelight above. The rest is all gone.”

“That’s not uncommon. Sometimes, the mortal mind protects itself by erasing memories of extreme fear or pain. But it could also be some spell at work,” the Young Lord Supreme mused. “Let it be. This ‘Pavilion of Leisurely Steps’ is also called the ‘Pavilion of Forgetting Sorrow’—let all worldly worries fade here. I’ve ordered a pot of tea; let’s drink.”

Perhaps the pavilion drew many visitors, for a small teahouse stood nearby. An apprentice, likely a working student, brought a pot of hot water, a teapot, and two cups.

“I love the tea here best—authentic Wuyi Da Hong Pao. It combines the freshness of green tea and the mellow sweetness of black,” said the Young Lord Supreme, rinsing the cups. “Though magic can conjure tea, it’s only to quench thirst. It can’t create tea infused with the spirit of heaven and earth, nor a Yixing teapot handmade by Gong Chun in the Ming Dynasty! There are so many tales of immortals envying mortals, not without reason.”

Hua Sheng thought to himself that everything has two sides. Mortals envy immortals, but there are things immortals envy too. “Young Lord Supreme, you come from such a distinguished line—shouldn’t you be the object of envy, not the one envying others?”

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“I’m not the scion of officials, strictly speaking, but of immortals—three generations of immortals! But the immortal realm differs from the mortal world; birth and lineage don’t matter. To match my grandfather’s achievements, I’d need to cultivate for three to five thousand years.”

“In three or five thousand years, I’ll have turned to dust. Don’t tell me you’re already that old?”

The Young Lord Supreme laughed. “Immortals live long, but have you ever heard of anyone thousands of years old still in school? How bad would your grades have to be to repeat so many years? I’m the same age as you—that’s why we’re classmates.”

Hua Sheng realized the truth of this. After all, even mortals don’t get held back in school till they’re thirty. And someone from an illustrious family like the Young Lord Supreme would never fall behind.

“Life in Saint Peaceful Serenity must be worry-free, then?”

The Young Lord Supreme refilled Hua Sheng’s cup. “Here, immortals, mortals, and spirits live together. Immortals are the gods; spirits are beings—animal, plant, or even stone—that have cultivated spirit and taken human form.”

Hua Sheng exclaimed, “This place, and the Academy, are like a paradise! I can’t wait to explore every corner!”

After sitting a while, the two prepared to descend the mountain, but saw seven or eight disciples coming up the path. Leading them was a youth, tall and striking, with an air of nobility and immortal energy. He carried a whisk, and the others clustered around him like stars around the moon.

Hua Sheng was about to step out of the pavilion, but the Young Lord Supreme held him back. “Let’s wait until they pass.”

“The path’s wide enough,” Hua Sheng protested.

“No…” the Young Lord Supreme began, but at that moment, the group stopped by the pavilion.

One of the male disciples glanced inside. “No wonder the mountain air is so foul today—someone’s brought mortal stench up here.”

Another turned to the youth with the whisk. “Registrar, can you believe the Academy admits such incompetents? It’s lamentable, truly!”

Hua Sheng realized the youth was not only arrogant but held some official title. Though unfamiliar with it, he guessed it meant the boy was their leader.

Annoyed by their rudeness, Hua Sheng wanted to retort, but the Young Lord Supreme shook his head. Then Hua Sheng remembered Heiyun’s warning to be cautious as a newcomer, so he bowed his head in silence, waiting for them to leave.

But the youth did not go; instead, he stepped closer and said, “I read in the records a few days ago that an ant was coming here. I didn’t expect to meet it so soon.”

Another disciple added, “What bad luck.”

Hearing himself called an “ant,” Hua Sheng struggled to contain his anger, but seeing he was outnumbered, he swallowed his pride.

A third disciple said to the youth, “Registrar, let’s go. No need to waste time on this ant.”

The youth glanced at the Young Lord Supreme. “To think that someone of your lineage would associate with this wretch.”

The Young Lord Supreme replied, “This is Saint Peaceful Serenity, not the Heavenly Court. Who here is lesser or greater?”

The Registrar said, “Saint Peaceful Serenity is not lawless; there are rules. You are the company you keep.”

With that, he swept his sleeve and led his followers up the mountain.

When they had gone, Hua Sheng asked, “Who was that? So young, yet such official airs.”

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At this, the Young Lord Supreme’s expression turned grave. “You must be careful here—don’t wander off without reason. Saint Peaceful Serenity may seem peaceful, but things are different for you.”

Hua Sheng was startled by his seriousness. “Why is that?”

“For centuries, the three races have lived in harmony, but you entered through the Juvenile Protection Act’s implicit amendment.”

“I’m a mortal, just like everyone here. What makes me different?”

“There’s a great difference. The mortals here are born in this realm and learn the arts from childhood. You are an outsider. More importantly, the ‘implicit amendment’ you used has only been in trial for thirty years. Residents are divided, and opposition is mounting. The act could be repealed any time.”

“Why? Isn’t saving lives a good thing?”

“For you, yes. But Saint Peaceful Serenity is a celestial sanctuary, cut off from the mortal world for thousands of years. If mortals are allowed in unilaterally, it may bring disaster, even the ruin of this realm.”

“How could a few mortal children cause disaster?”

“That’s what more and more opponents are saying. I’ll be blunt: don’t take it to heart, but they call those who come here under the ‘implicit amendment’ ‘ants.’”

“That’s what those people called me?”

“‘A levee a thousand fathoms thick may be breached by an ant’s hole. A house a hundred paces wide may burn from a crack of smoke.’”

“So, even a few people, if they shouldn’t have been admitted, could in time bring catastrophe?” Hua Sheng shivered.

“Exactly. It’s the butterfly effect. Most enlightened immortals believe in equality, but you must be careful—no one can tell who harbors such views.”

“That’s true. Prejudice isn’t written on the face,” Hua Sheng thought, recalling the encounter. “Those were the kind who look down on ‘ants’?”

“Yes.” The Young Lord Supreme’s face was solemn. “Have you heard of the Academy’s Student Council?”

“Isn’t that a group of top students?”

“Yes, and…”

“And what? Don’t keep me in suspense!” Hua Sheng was anxious.

“The leader just now—the Registrar of the Student Council—is Tian Jizi, the fiercest opponent of the ‘implicit amendment’!”

So that was Tian Jizi. The name alone sounded arrogant. “Doesn’t that mean all the best students think this way?” Hua Sheng suddenly felt his prospects bleak.

The Young Lord Supreme tried to reassure him. “Not necessarily. But with someone like the Registrar, you can be sure you’re not facing just one or two with that mindset. The same is true throughout Saint Peaceful Serenity. So you must always be cautious.”

“You’re right,” Hua Sheng sighed, feeling his circumstances were not as rosy as he’d hoped, and his heart grew heavy.