The Azure Ethereal Vapors mountains stand tall and majestic, commanding the central plains. On the shady side of the mountain, the great river “Hongchuan” flows, while on the sunny side, the bustling city of “Heyang” is strategically located, guarding the vital arteries of the land, making its geographical position extremely significant.
The Azure Ethereal Vapors stretch for a hundred miles, with peaks and valleys undulating endlessly. The highest among them are seven summits, reaching up to the clouds, where usually only the billowing mists obscure the true visage of the mountaintops. The mountain is cloaked in dense forests, cascading waterfalls, and peculiar rocks, teeming with rare birds and exotic beasts. Its scenery, both perilous and magnificent, is famed throughout the world.
However, what is even more renowned is the sect of cultivation practitioners that resides on this mountain — the Azure Ethereal Conclave.
The Azure Ethereal lineage boasts a long and storied history, spanning over two millennia since its founding, making it the foremost of all righteous and nefarious paths in the present day.
It is said that the founding patriarch was originally a diviner, who spent the first half of his life in destitution, never finding fulfillment. At the age of forty-nine, while wandering the lands, he passed by the Azure Ethereal Vapors. With one glance, he recognized the mountain’s extraordinary spirit and the concentration of the earth’s essence, deeming it an exceptionally fine place. Immediately, he ascended the mountain, subsisting on the wind and dew, dedicating himself to the path of cultivation. Soon, deep within the mountain, he discovered an ancient, unnamed scroll in a secluded cave. The scroll contained profound and intricate techniques, difficult and abstruse, yet infinitely potent and immensely powerful.
Determined to master these esoteric arts, the diviner devoted himself to their study. After twenty years, he had made some progress and decided to venture out. Despite not achieving complete dominance, he became a formidable force in his region. Thus, he established the Azure Ethereal Conclave on the mountain, naming it after the ethereal azure mist. Given the scroll’s content, which closely resembled Taoist teachings, he adopted the attire and practices of a Taoist, calling himself “Azure Ethereal Master.” His disciples would later respectfully refer to him as “True Master Azure Ethereal.”
The Azure Ethereal Master lived for three hundred and sixty-seven years, and before his passing, he gathered his ten disciples, instructing them: “All my learning and teachings lie in the art of divination, particularly in feng shui. This Azure Ethereal Vapors is a rare spiritual land, and if we hold onto this mountain, our lineage will surely flourish. You must never abandon it. Remember, remember!”
His disciples nodded in unison, fully believing in his words. But fate, or perhaps the inaccuracy of his divination, had other plans. Over the next century, the Azure Ethereal Conclave did not prosper; instead, it gradually declined.
Among the ten disciples, two died young, four were killed in feuds and battles, one was left crippled, and another vanished, leaving only two surviving lineages.
Fifty years passed, and a catastrophic earthquake struck the area around the Azure Ethereal Vapors, causing devastating floods and massive casualties. One lineage was extinguished, and the remaining heir, though gifted, was limited in ability. No longer able to match the glory of the Azure Ethereal Master, the heir found himself and the ancient scroll attracting covetous enemies. Several fierce battles ensued, and had it not been for the powerful restrictions and talismans left by the Azure Ethereal Master, the Azure Ethereal Conclave might have been destroyed.
This state of affairs persisted for four centuries, with the conclave barely clinging to survival. Eventually, they were bullied right to their doorstep. Of the seven peaks, only the main peak, “Heaven-Piercing Peak,” remained under their control, while the other six were occupied by bandits and marauders, using them as strongholds to plunder and wreak havoc.
Misunderstandings arose, and many thought the Azure Ethereal Conclave had fallen into disgrace. Despite numerous attempts to explain and the desire to defend their honor, the disciples were powerless to act. It was a truly desolate and sorrowful period for the conclave.
But then, thirteen hundred years ago, things began to change.
Perhaps the divination of the Azure Ethereal Master finally came to fruition, or perhaps the heavens grew weary of tormenting the conclave. At this time, among the eleventh generation of disciples, there emerged a peerless genius, a figure of unparalleled talent and leadership — Daoist Qing Ye.
Qing Ye, originally surnamed Ye, was a poor but brilliant scholar. Despite his exceptional intellect, he failed to pass the imperial examinations. By a twist of fate, he was taken as the final disciple of the tenth patriarch, Master Wu Fang, at the age of twenty-two.
Within a year of joining, Qing Ye mastered all the sword techniques and mystical arts imparted by Wu Fang, outshining all his fellow disciples. After another year, even Wu Fang, with his deep cultivation, could only match him evenly. Delighted and surprised, Wu Fang decisively handed down the ancient scroll, allowing Qing Ye to study it. Qing Ye then entered seclusion in the “Illusory Moon Cave” behind Heaven-Piercing Peak, where he remained for thirteen years.
It is said that when he emerged from his seclusion, it was a full moon night. The cold moon hung high, illuminating the entire Azure Ethereal Vapors as if it were daytime. Suddenly, a fierce wind blew, and a dragon’s roar echoed through the mountains, resounding for a hundred miles. The onlookers were all startled. Then, a light purple glow soared into the sky, and with a loud boom, the Illusory Moon Cave opened. Qing Ye, with white hair and beard, a serene smile, and a gentle aura, stepped out. Everyone was astounded, believing he had attained immortality.
Thereafter, Qing Ye officially became a monk, taking the name Qing Ye, combining his family name “Ye” with the “Qing” of the Azure Ethereal Vapors.
On the day he bid farewell to his master, Master Wu Fang, he said, “Master, wait a moment. I shall return by tomorrow.”
None understood his meaning, but by the next day, Qing Ye returned on a flying sword, having eradicated all the enemies occupying the six peaks of the Azure Ethereal Vapors. The power and ruthlessness of Qing Ye’s magic caused a sensation, and the Azure Ethereal Conclave’s reputation soared.
A year later, Master Wu Fang passed the mantle of leadership to Qing Ye, who dedicated himself to the rejuvenation of the conclave. He supported his fellow disciples, selected worthy successors, and wielded the incredible powers he gained from the ancient scroll.
Under his guidance, the Azure Ethereal Conclave flourished, becoming a pillar of righteousness within fifty years and leading the righteous sects within two centuries.
Qing Ye, the True Master, lived to be five hundred and fifty years old, and he was strict in choosing his disciples, ultimately training only seven. He divided the seven peaks among them, ensuring the continuity of the conclave’s traditions. The main lineage, residing in the Azure Ethereal Temple on Heaven-Piercing Peak, became the center of the conclave.
Today, the Azure Ethereal Conclave has nearly a thousand disciples, with numerous skilled warriors and a formidable reputation. Alongside the “Celestial Sound Temple” and the “Incense Valley,” it is one of the three greatest sects in the world. The current patriarch, Daoist Daoxuan, is a transcendent figure, a true master of the age.
At the foot of the Azure Ethereal Vapors, fifty miles northwest of Heyang City, lies a small village called “Grass Temple Village.”
Home to about forty households, the village is known for its simple and honest people. Many of the villagers earn a living by collecting firewood to trade with the Azure Ethereal Conclave for silver.
The villagers often see the disciples of the Azure Ethereal Conclave perform wondrous feats and view them with awe and reverence, believing them to be divine beings. The conclave, in turn, has always looked after the local inhabitants, treating the villagers kindly.
On this particular day, the sky was gloomy, with dark clouds hanging low, creating a suffocating atmosphere.
From Grass Temple Village, the towering Azure Ethereal Vapors seemed to reach the heavens, with strange and ominous peaks. However, the villagers, accustomed to such sights, paid no heed, and the children, being naive, were even less concerned.
“Stinky kid, where do you think you’re running?”
A half-playful, half-angry voice came from a boy around twelve or thirteen, with a handsome face. He led a group of four or five children, chasing after another smaller child. The younger boy, two years his junior, ran with a broad smile, occasionally turning to make a funny face.
“Zhang Xiaofan, if you have the guts, stop right there!” the older boy shouted.
Zhang Xiaofan spat, running even faster, “You think I’m an idiot?”
They chased each other, eventually nearing the dilapidated grass temple at the eastern end of the village. The small temple, weathered by countless years, stood in disrepair.
Zhang Xiaofan dashed inside, but, to his misfortune, tripped over the door, tumbling to the ground.
The other children, delighted, pounced on him, pinning him down. The handsome boy, triumphant, laughed, “I got you! What do you say now?”
Zhang Xiaofan, with a scowl, retorted, “That doesn’t count! You tricked me, how can that count?”
The boy, taken aback, asked, “When did I trick you?”
Zhang Xiaofan shot back, “Lin Jingyu, you put that door there, didn’t you?”
Lin Jingyu loudly protested, “No way!”
Zhang Xiaofan, with a determined look, refused to yield.
Lin Jingyu, growing angry, grabbed Zhang Xiaofan’s neck, shouting, “You agreed to admit defeat if I caught you. Do you surrender?”
Zhang Xiaofan ignored him.
Lin Jingyu, face flushed, tightened his grip, demanding, “Do you surrender?”
Zhang Xiaofan, struggling to breathe, his face turning red, remained stubbornly silent.
Lin Jingyu, his anger mounting, increased his pressure, repeatedly shouting, “Do you surrender? Do you surrender?!”
As the situation grew dire, a chant of “Amitabha, stop at once” echoed from the depths of the temple. A bony hand appeared, extending two fingers to tap Lin Jingyu’s hands. Lin Jingyu, shocked, let go instinctively.
Zhang Xiaofan gasped for air, clearly exhausted. Both boys, stunned, looked at each other, realizing the gravity of their actions.
Lin Jingyu, apologetic, said, “Xiaofan, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me…”
Zhang Xiaofan, breathing steadily, replied, “It’s okay. Hey, who are you?”
The children turned to see an old monk standing in the temple, his face lined with wrinkles, dressed in tattered robes. In his hand, he held a string of jade beads, glowing with a faint, ethereal light. Among the perfectly matched, clear jade beads, one peculiar, non-jade, non-stone bead, dark purple and dull, stood out.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage