Chapter 5: Setting the Scented Bait to Lure the Giant Fish

Chapter 5: Baiting the Giant Fish

Zhang Sanlu, under the astonished gaze of Suqing, tipped his head back and, with a gulp, swallowed the entire pill!

“Senior brother, you—!” Suqing anxiously grabbed Zhang Sanlu’s arm, but it was already too late. Watching the movement of Zhang Sanlu’s throat, he realized the pill had entered his belly; unless a sharp knife could open Zhang Sanlu’s stomach now, the only hope would be to search for its remnants in the latrine later.

With the pill in his belly, Zhang Sanlu looked down at Suqing, who was gripping his forearm tightly. His voice, lowered and almost hypnotic, asked softly, “Junior brother, do you desire this Longevity Pill as well?”

“Yes!” Suqing nodded instantly, but then seemed to realize something, quickly released Zhang Sanlu’s arm, and hurriedly bowed, lowering his head. “Forgive me, senior brother, for my rashness. This pill was granted to you by Master; I could never be so fortunate.”

The corners of Zhang Sanlu’s mouth curled slightly. His voice, hoarse yet gentle, continued, “I only had this one pill, and now it’s gone. But Master has plenty more.” He paused, observing Suqing’s longing expression, and went on, “Too bad, if not for my rare stroke of luck, Master would never have given it to me.” He leaned back, fell silent, but his eyes remained fixed on Suqing’s face and movements.

Zhang Sanlu watched as Suqing shifted from excitement to disappointment, hope to helplessness, all within moments. He knew there was still a bit more to go; Suqing was too timid, like a mouse seeking scraps in dark corners, or a hyena waiting for others’ leftovers.

“Don’t let Senior Brother Konggao know about this, or it’ll only cause more trouble,” Zhang Sanlu shook his head, “He’s not easy to deal with—simple-minded and reckless, who knows what mischief he’d stir up.” He narrowed his eyes, watching Suqing’s reaction.

Suqing was momentarily stunned. “Senior brother?” Then, as if just realizing something, he nodded hurriedly, “Yes, you’re right, we mustn’t let Senior Brother Konggao find out.”

“Hmm… But Senior Brother has been with Master the longest; he seems to be favored. His robes are dark, unlike ours. Perhaps he’s already heard of this, or maybe he’s consumed many pills already,” Zhang Sanlu continued.

“Him?” Suqing curled his lip in disdain, then quickly corrected himself, “Yes, you’re right.” Yet he was evidently distracted, weighing and pondering something silently.

Zhang Sanlu smiled, “Junior brother, this book was lent to me by Master. Though it’s against Master’s wishes for you to take it, we are as close as brothers. Whenever you have free time these days, you may come borrow it to study, but you must return it every morning in case Master asks for it during early lessons. How does that sound?”

“This… Isn’t it too much trouble for you?”

“What trouble? It’s too formal between us to speak of such things,” Zhang Sanlu feigned annoyance.

“Then I shall accept your generosity. Thank you, senior brother,” Suqing said, face alight with excitement and gratitude.

“Suqing, I won’t keep you. Rest early.”

For the following ten days or so, Zhang Sanlu used the excuse of studying scriptures to avoid morning lessons and temple chores. He wandered about, but every evening at a fixed hour, he would sit quietly in the main hall. Surprisingly, no one bothered him, and Master Tongxuan made no arrangements for him.

One night, as Zhang Sanlu was in his room, hurried footsteps echoed outside.

A figure, clad in a blue Daoist robe with hair bound atop his head, flung open the door in a panic, crashing in from outside—it was Manshan, Suqing’s roommate.

“Senior brother Zhenfu! Master Tongxuan wants everyone to gather in the alchemy cave behind the main hall! Hurry there, I must go notify the others,” Manshan announced before darting off.

Since Master was convening a meeting, Zhang Sanlu naturally went. Soon, all disciples assembled in the cave behind the Law-seeking Hall. Flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the rocks, illuminating the confusion on every face.

This cave was an outer chamber, and one could see several inner rooms deeper inside, likely the so-called alchemy chambers. Zhang Sanlu had barely settled when Manshan arrived, leading two more young Daoists, all panting and struggling to catch their breath—especially Manshan, whose chest heaved for a while before calming.

Yet among the crowd, the black-robed Konggao and the youngest Suqing were absent. Had something happened? Zhang Sanlu mused, anticipating a dramatic turn.

After a moment, without warning, a head poked out from the darkness outside. Everyone but Zhang Sanlu instinctively tensed and lowered their gaze.

Tongxuan strode before them, sweeping a cold glance over the disciples, then spoke in a sharp, piercing voice:

“Last night, at the third watch, someone with the courage of a bear and the heart of a leopard sneaked into the pill chamber and stole medicines while I was unguarded!” His voice became harsh and furious, clearly unexpected.

“Though you are my disciples, I treat you as sons and nephews, teaching you skills and scriptures. More kindly than I did previous batches of Daoist boys. And this is how you repay me? How deeply disappointing!”

Though he spoke of heartbreak, his face was filled with palpable menace; his left eye, dark as pitch, made him all the more terrifying in the gloom.

Yet what Zhang Sanlu noticed most was the unintentional revelation in Tongxuan’s words: previous batches of Daoist boys.

Recently, though Zhang Sanlu appeared idle and aimless, he had already observed most corners of the temple and learned much about his fellow disciples. Nearly all the young Daoists here were orphans or beggars, brought up the mountain by Tongxuan in search of food and shelter.

The earliest to arrive was Konggao, who came about ten years ago, now around twenty years old. The latest was Suqing, who joined only three or four years ago.

Who were the previous batches? Did they leave the mountain? And the batch before that?

Tongxuan now declared, “There must be rules—without rules, nothing is accomplished. Whoever commits such grave offenses must suffer the appropriate punishment. This is our sect’s tradition! All of you, follow me!”

No one dared to breathe loudly, silently trailing behind Tongxuan.

Passing through the main cave, they entered a central passage. After a short walk, they reached a stone wall with no visible way forward.

Tongxuan formed a hand seal and pressed it against the wall. With a low rumble, the stone slowly opened. Behind it, darkness suggested a vast space.

Following him into the cavern, by torchlight, they saw it was as large as a basketball court, though the far end was lost in shadow.

The nearer walls seemed naturally formed, later modified by human hands.

At the cave’s center, contrary to Zhang Sanlu’s expectation of a giant cauldron, stood a stone bed with an iron cage shaped like a human atop it. Beside the bed, two individuals, tightly bound, lay stacked—one in black robes, unmistakably Konggao, and the other, seemingly called Qingfeng.

Elsewhere, the chamber was crowded with black jars, arranged in dense rows.