To achieve health and longevity.

After lingering in Wudang for five days, Chen Jue reaped substantial rewards. He exchanged contact information with Daoist Priest Huang Shizhen and obtained the phone number of the Uncle-Master Luo that the priest had mentioned, thereby embarking once again on his walking tour.

Departing from Mount Wudang, he traveled northwestward, walking more than a hundred kilometers each day and passing through several towns to experience the local customs and practices. On the fourth day, he finally arrived at the Huashan Scenic Area in Huayin City.

He found a hotel in the city to stay in, washed away the dust from his journey, and then went out shopping to buy a pair of well-fitting shoes.

Ever since he set off on foot from Beijing to measure the earth with his steps, Chen Jue had walked a journey of nearly two thousand kilometers. The hiking boots he had bought in Gongshan had been completely worn down at the heels.

On the contrary, the athletic wear and windbreakers he brought remained as good as new. After all, rather than traversing deep mountains and wild forests, he had traveled primarily along urban routes, resulting in no other wear and tear besides wearing out his shoes.

Visiting a boutique outdoor store, he purchased another pair of fitting boots for three thousand yuan. Afterward, he found a local specialty dish called mashi on the street to try.

Mashi gets its name because the staple noodles inside look like thick hemp ropes. Many ingredients, both meat and vegetarian, are added to it. The aroma is enticing, and the taste is sour, numbing, and delicious, offering a quite distinctive flavor.

However, due to his consecutive days of walking, Chen Jue had expended a relatively large amount of physical energy. Coupled with the fact that he was somewhat of a foodie, after tasting the internet-recommended mashi, he bought two more roujiamo from a roadside stall.

This place was not far from Xi'an, the ancient capital of six dynasties, and the roujiamo made here were exceptionally authentic, far superior to the ones Chen Jue had eaten in Beijing.

Returning to the hotel to rest for the night, Chen Jue got up early the next day, ate a bowl of dadaomian noodles, and strolled leisurely toward the Huashan Scenic Area.

He paid one hundred and sixty yuan for an admission ticket and slipped into the scenic area alongside a continuous stream of tourists. Eschewing the sightseeing cable car, he began his journey of climbing the mountain on foot.

Mount Wudang was historically known as the "Western Yue," sharing fame with the Eastern Yue, Mount Tai. As one of the Five Great Mountains, it had enjoyed the reputation of being "the most wondrous and perilous mountain under heaven" since ancient times.

This place was also the lineage transmission ground of the Quanzhen Sect. Hao Datong, one of the seven direct disciples of Patriarch Wang Chongyang, had once preached the Dao here.

Hao Datong, courtesy name Taitong and Daoist title Guangning Zhenren, had a miraculous experience before comprehending the secret teachings of Chongyang: he sat in silent meditation beneath a stone bridge for six full years, neither seeking food nor water, enduring cold and heat alike without change, remaining unmoved even as the river flooded. Only after experiencing sudden enlightenment overnight—discerning the inversion of water and fire, the harmony of yin and yang, and the successful completion of the nine-cycle golden elixir—did he open a hall to expound the Dao and establish the Huashan lineage.

According to Chen Jue's speculation, this historical Guangning Zhenren likely practiced a Daoist Qi-nurturing technique akin to the Buddhist silent meditation, while also grasping the true essence of the "living corpse" just like his master Wang Chongyang. It was simply that Patriarch Wang possessed higher innate talent, achieving the golden elixir within three years of cultivation, whereas this Guangning Zhenren spent a full six years.

Besides him, Mount Wudang held the lineage left by another eminent Daoist master—Old Patriarch Chen Tuan, who was renowned for sleeping for eight hundred years.

...

As Chen Jue climbed the mountain steps, he half-listened to the tour guide's microphone commentary from a nearby tour group while admiring the wondrous and perilous scenery around him. When passing through the mid-mountain waist, he casually bought a local specialty, the rolled steamed bun, to pad his stomach.

When he finally climbed to higher altitudes, walking close to the rock face with his feet planted on plank roads and a safety harness tied to his body, he truly understood the meaning of "the most wondrous and perilous mountain under heaven."

Looking back, beneath his feet was a bottomless abyss, with cliffs as straight as if cut by a knife, while the narrow plank roads he stepped on could accommodate only a single person. Walking upon them felt like stepping on clouds and mists.

Some timid tourists who climbed to this spot were frightened until their legs grew weak, trembling and screaming incessantly.

Upon seeing this, Chen Jue merely smiled faintly without making any remarks. After all, ordinary people lacked the calm and unhurried state of mind that he now possessed.

After passing through the Nantian Plank Road and arriving at Songhui Peak, Chen Jue came to a halt. Like many tourists, he raised his head to gaze at the protruding rock that resembled the eaves of an old rural house.

Inscribed on the underside of the rock were three large characters: "Quanzhen Rock," which looked extremely striking from a distance.

Meanwhile, the tour guide leading the group nearby spoke with an air of profound authority, "This Quanzhen Rock is one of the ten mysteries of Huashan. The place where the characters are carved faces inward and is suspended in mid-air. There is no footing or leverage above, below, or to either side, and beneath it lies a bottomless abyss. Even scientists cannot explain how the characters on it were carved."

The tourists who had come with the group were utterly bewildered, likewise speculating how characters could possibly be carved in such a perilous place, especially since ancient times lacked modern lifting machinery.

However, looking at the rock wall with its slightly recessed pits, Chen Jue formed a rough guess.

He estimated that the three characters "Quanzhen Rock" were carved by an enlightened Daoist master who possessed powerful finger arts similar to his own and had deliberately climbed up to chisel them into the stone.

Apart from that, there was another method: hanging down by ropes from above, or carrying bamboo up the mountain to construct an old-fashioned scaffolding. In any case, since ancient people could even open up mountain paths for cultivation in such perilous places, carving floating characters should not have posed much of a difficulty.

However, Chen Jue kept his suspicions to himself. Suddenly, an old man sitting by a mountaintop snack stand, who had been watching and fortune-telling, picked up on the tour guide's words and interjected, "You tour guides are just talking nonsense! They're just three characters, how else could they be carved? Naturally, they were carved by a human!"

"Could it be that aliens used laser guns to shoot beams and carve them?"

Prompted by the old man's teasing, bursts of laughter erupted among the accompanying tour group.

Chen Jue also cast a curious glance at this amusing old man. He saw that the other party was dressed in casual wear, with a round face, short stature, and a ruddy complexion. His short, stubbly hair was half black and half white, and his eyes were sharp. Although his face bore many wrinkles, his aura did not resemble an old man at all; instead, he looked like a middle-aged man in his fifties.

As for the fortune-telling banner hanging beside him, the four characters "Huashan Divine Diviner" were embroidered upon it, and his stall was situated right next to the food snack stand, possessing quite the air of a folk "master" fortune-teller stationed outside a bus terminal.

Yet this "master" seemed somewhat lacking in the dignity expected of his age, as his small eyes kept darting toward the curvaceous female tourists.

Provoked by his banter, several attracted tourists actually approached him for fortune-telling.

In particular, the moment a female tourist with slightly above-average looks sat down at the stall, the old man immediately perked up. Stroking her delicate little hand while muttering under his breath, he said, "Female benefactor, this palm of yours... so white and tender... Ah, bah! I mean, truly excellent. Successful in career and studies, a blissful marriage, destined to have a good husband. It's just that your affinity with children is somewhat shallow; you need to nourish and regulate your body more."

"Nourish and regulate my body?"

"Master, aren't you a fortune-teller? How come you also know about Traditional Chinese Medicine?" The female tourist gave him a sideways look of displeasure, feeling increasingly that this lecherous old man was unreliable, and she somewhat regretted listening to her husband and sitting down to have her fortune read.

"I, old Daoist, possess learning that encompasses heaven and earth. I am proficient in divination, prognostication, qi-observation, palmistry, and medical principles. There is no problem at all with me giving you a diagnosis, female benefactor."

"Look at the dark circles around your eyes and your deficient yet hyperactive vital energy and blood—at a glance, I can tell you stay up late every day! Don't you young people often say that when you stay up late too much, you should remember to soak wolfberries in a thermos cup?"

"I have locally produced eight-treasure tea right here. Brewing and drinking this is far more effective than simply soaking wolfberries. Would the female benefactor like to buy a few boxes to take back?" As the old man spoke, he pulled out a beautifully packaged local specialty from beneath his fortune-telling stall to pitch it.

Such behavior instantly earned him the disdain of the female tourist. After scanning a QR code with her mobile phone to pay the sixty-eight yuan divination and palmistry fee, this rather attractive female tourist hurried back to her tour group to complain to her husband, who was still laughing heartily.

Of course, there were also some young male tourists who found this glib old man amusing and interesting, so they followed suit and sat down at the divination stall to ask about their fortunes.

Among them, a sharp-tongued young tourist even struck up a conversation with the old man: "Master, how old are you this year?"

"This old Daoist is eighty-six this year. What? Do I need to start showing my household register just to get my palm read?" The old man blinked at him and said.

"No! I just think you look so young, Master! You don't look eighty-six at all, you look more like you're in your fifties."

"You maintain yourself so well, do you have any secrets to longevity?" the young male tourist asked curiously, evidently not expecting the old man to be of such an advanced age.

"Secrets to longevity? I certainly do!"

"After summarizing a lifetime, this old Daoist has only a few words: If you want to be healthy and long-lived, smoke, drink, and eat fatty meats, and mingle more with female friends. Of course, you also have to drink more of this eight-treasure tea." With that, the old man fished a transparent thermos cup out from under the stall, unscrewed the lid, took a few slow sips of the steaming hot tea, and then lit a cigarette to puff away in clouds of smoke.

"Master, is this eight-treasure tea really that effective? Give me a box!" The young tourist was presumably inexperienced in the ways of the world, and after being teased a few times by the fortune-telling old man, his interest was piqued.

"This young man is quite sensible! Courteously priced at eighty-eight yuan a box, how many boxes do you want?" The old man asked, looking at him with a smiling expression.

"Eighty-eight yuan? That's not expensive. Give me three boxes, I'll take them back for my grandparents to try." Overwhelmed by a sudden surge of filial piety, the young tourist requested three boxes from the fortune-telling old man.

However, when he turned around to take a photo with his phone and search online, he discovered that online sellers only charged sixty-eight yuan a box, and that included shipping for the exact same brand. Feeling thoroughly scammed and cheated, he prepared to go back and argue with the old man.

The fortune-telling old man hit him with a retort that left the young tourist utterly speechless: "Selling for sixty-eight with shipping included online relies on courier logistics. Since this old Daoist carried so many boxes up the mountain myself, shouldn't I charge a bit for labor and hardship? Making twenty yuan profit a box isn't much."

"Young man, your fate is blessed with wealth, and your character should be generous. Don't be like those young people online who don't blink an eye when spending hundreds or thousands on a meal or going to a club, yet borrow accounts from others everywhere just to watch a video streaming subscription."

lectured by the old man, the young tourist suddenly felt it made sense, and hugging the three boxes of eight-treasure tea, he slunk back to his tour group.

As for Chen Jue, he had observed the fortune-telling old man's performance from start to finish. Once the nearby tourists had mostly dispersed, Chen Jue unhurriedly sat down at the divination stall, stretched out his hand, placed it flat on the table, and asked, "Master, would you mind reading my fortune as well?"