Once upon a time, there was a mountain called Wudang.
There was a peak on the mountain called Lotus. A young Taoist once lived on the peak. He wanted to go down the mountain but didn't dare. His name was Hong Xixiang. But after that young headmaster returned from the mountain, it was said that he left the world.
Then, the even younger headmaster, Li Yufu, brought back a young child with spirited eyes. His name was Yu Fu. Perhaps his parents hoped that this child would be able to save up some good fortune every year. If a poor family wanted to live a long and stable life, it was nothing more than saving up.
The Lantern Festival was a big festival. In order to welcome the Lantern Festival in the second year of Xiangfu, all the Taoists on Wudang Mountain, regardless of seniority, chopped bamboo to make lanterns and then pasted rice paper on them. Even the most senior Taoist masters like Chen Yao and Yu Xingrui were no exception. Unfortunately, the oldest Martial Uncle on the mountain, Song Zhiming, passed away last year. He didn't ascend to immortality. The old Taoist Master passed away peacefully. He only muttered that if only his younger martial brother was still alive, he would be able to refine several furnaces of truly good pills. Then there was the month before the old man's death. He often saw Martial Uncle Song standing at the gate of Big Lotus Peak, looking at the foot of the mountain. Needless to say, he was waiting for the headmaster's martial nephew. From Wudang's Old Zhenren's Shifu Huang Manshan, to his Da Shixiong Wang Zhonglou, to his Little Shidi Hong Xixiang, and finally the current Jiao Li Yufu, Song Zhiming, other than the paintings of his ancestors, lived for two hundred years, and met four Wudang Jiao Jiao; therefore, he passed away very peacefully. The older generation of Taoists was withering day by day. The Great Taoist Master Chen Yao, who was in charge of discipline, also couldn't hide his old age. Fortunately, Wudang Mountain had always been indifferent to birth, old age, illness, and death. Moreover, Wudang Mountain was now flourishing with incense. Several peaks on the mountain held several not-so-grand but still solemn "opening of the mountain" ceremonies.
Even though it was close to the Lantern Festival and the sky had not yet brightened, there were still many good men and women who started to climb the mountain to burn incense. It was different from the many Taoist temples in Liyang that would specially open a back door for high officials and dignitaries, and the common people could burn incense for a lifetime without being able to burn the first incense. In Beiliang, as long as you were early, the common people could also burn the first incense on Mount Wudang. There was an endless stream of pilgrims on Mount Wudang's Southern Divine Avenue, and there were even many foreigners who spoke with foreign accents. As Beimang's army was marching south, the three prefectures of Beiliang were like a funnel, and the population was plummeting. These foreign pilgrims were like carps swimming against the current, which was enough to show the prosperity of Mount Wudang. There were even rumors that the imperial court would soon transfer the title of Mount Longhu to Mount Wudang to appease the people of Beiliang. Among the incense burning army, there was a young man and woman who looked like a young couple. Probably because they were from a small family, they did not wear embroidered clothes or mink coats, nor did they have intimidating squires. They did not even have a lantern. They were climbing the mountain together with another family they met at the foot of the mountain, and they used the family's lantern to make their way up the mountain easier. The young man introduced himself as Xu Qi, a native of Beiliang. His wife's surname was Lu, and her hometown was Qingzhou. In his words, she was married to a chicken and followed the chicken and dog, which was why she had come to Beiliang to suffer hardships. The large family traveling with them consisted of four generations, a total of sixteen people. The old man's surname was Yan, and he was eighty years old. He said he was Taoist Guangling, and he had been an official in the capital as well as a local official. He had only returned to his hometown last year. The old man spoke humorously and was extremely talkative. Along the way, he chatted with Xu Qi about what he had seen and heard in the north and south of the Yangtze River, adding a lot of laughter to the boring mountain journey. Although Xu Qi did not say anything surprising, he was able to pick up on the old man's words every time.
Other than the old man, the other two men of the Yan family originally did not like this so-called Beiliang barbarian. This could not be blamed on their arrogance. Among the many territorial disputes in Liyang, Beiliang, where Xu Xiao was in charge, and Nanjiang, where Zhao Bing, the Prince of Yan, was in charge, had always been the big brother. Not to mention the second brother, both were barbarian lands in the imperial court. They could not even compare to the two Beiliang. As a result, there was once a big joke in the imperial court. They remembered that the first Beiliang scholar had passed the imperial examination like a carp leaping over the dragon's gate, becoming a Jinshi. This made Tai 'an City very surprised, and they wondered how there could be scholars in Beiliang? As a result, many people helped that scholar search the family tree. When they finally found out that the scholar's ancestral home was in Jianzhou of the Central Plains, they felt relieved. However, they did not care about the fact that the scholar had been born and raised in Lingzhou of Beiliang for many generations. It was not until Yan Jiexi became a relative of the imperial family and then a Grand Scholar of the Palace Hall, Jin Lanting's meteoric rise, and the great scholar of Confucianism, Yao Baifeng, came to the capital to preside over the Imperial College that their terrible impression of Beiliang as uncivilized was slightly improved. They pinched their noses and admitted that Beiliang also had a family tradition of scholars.
The distance from the main peak of Wudang's Golden Peak to the Southern Divine Path was twelve miles. It was also a mountain road. With the old and young of the Yan family, their legs were weak and they walked slowly. By the time the first morning bell rang, they were only halfway there. They rested at the pavilion for travelers and pilgrims to rest. The old man took advantage of the first rays of dawn to look into the distance. Xu Qi and his wife stood side by side, admiring the scenery below the mountain. After the old man retracted his gaze and sat down, his young great-grandson immediately ran over to massage his legs and feet. The old man laughed heartily and dotingly picked up the child and placed him on his lap. He pointed to the east and said, "This scene is called 'the sky opens to white'."
The child clearly had no interest in the sky opening to white. He raised his head and asked in a childish voice, "Great-grandfather, is there really an immortal on the mountain like my mother said? Can immortals ride on the clouds? "
The Old Master of the Yan family laughed heartily and stroked the child's head. He did not give an answer. He only turned his head to look at the mountain peak shrouded in clouds and fog. He sighed softly and said, "I don't dare to speak loudly for fear of alarming the people in the sky."
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