153 Seeking Truth Beneath the Quanzhen Cliff

“Wait until I finish this cigarette!” The old fortune-teller ignored Chen Jue and, puffing away, rose and strolled toward the nearby restroom.

But he was gone for over an hour. The sun began to sink in the west, and the fading light cast a golden-red glow upon the Quanzhen Rock.

Fewer and fewer tourists lingered nearby; after all, night was approaching, and staying on the mountain meant facing the cold.

Only those who had booked rooms at the mountain hotels planned to rise early the next morning to witness the Huashan sunrise.

As for Chen Jue, he patiently remained seated before the divination stall until even the shopkeeper at the adjacent kiosk began packing up and descending the mountain. Only then did the old fortune-teller reappear, hands clasped behind his back, moving slowly from some unknown corner.

“Fellow traveler, it’s nearly dark. Why not descend while there’s still light? What’s the meaning of clinging to an old man like me?” The fortune-teller shed his previously unserious demeanor, fixing Chen Jue with a serious gaze as he sat back down at the divination table.

“Senior Luo, I haven’t finished my reading yet! I was just waiting for you to come back.” Chen Jue smiled warmly. From the moment he first saw this old fortune-teller, he sensed a serene and profound aura—a master who had attained the Golden Core stage of cultivation.

“Ah? You know this old Daoist?” Luo the old man packed away his trendy Eight-Treasure Tea and pulled from beneath the table a golden toad clasping several copper coins in its mouth, placing it carefully upon the desk.

“I came to know of you through Master Huang of the True Dao. As a fellow cultivator with some doubts recently clouding my heart, I hoped to seek your guidance, Senior Luo.” Chen Jue smiled faintly, speaking frankly.

“Oh!” Luo exclaimed, “So you are a disciple of Master Huang’s lineage! But young cultivator, you have already formed your Golden Core and yet remain amidst the mundane world. A few doubts are nothing serious. The world is ever-changing, heaven and earth vast and eternal; few have truly seen through the vicissitudes of existence. Even I, immersed in this life, remain uncertain. Among billions, countless souls harbor myriad doubts yet still endure.”

As he spoke, Luo studied Chen Jue carefully, secretly impressed by the young man’s cultivation.

To him, Chen Jue was not only enlightened and Golden Core-formed but carried a strong worldly aura unlike the usual reclusive sages long passed.

Most cultivators shun the mundane for peace, only engaging the world once their Dao heart is fully formed.

But Chen Jue went against this, his Dao heart unsettled yet refining himself through the chaos of the mundane to find his path.

Such a young man was rare even in eras famed for illustrious masters.

“Survival is not my pursuit; I only wish to live this life with grace,” Chen Jue replied.

“Senior Luo, since you pride yourself on wisdom that bridges heaven and man, why not cast a divination for this junior? Unravel the truth beneath my feet and clear the doubts in my heart.” He shook his head, placing his hand upon the table.

“Well, since you insist… sigh! Very well! Consider it fate that this old Daoist—who neglected the almanac today—should meet a fellow seeker so determined. But divining for a Golden Core cultivator like you will cost me some of my vital energy!” Luo sighed, resigned, and took Chen Jue’s left hand to examine his innate fate.

There are many divination schools: some study birth charts, others employ Zi Wei astrology, some rely on Ma Yi physiognomy, Qi observation, coin casting, palm and bone readings, and so forth. But fundamentally, they all distinguish between innate and acquired destiny.

In palmistry, the left hand represents innate destiny, the heaven-bestowed fortune at birth; the right hand shows acquired fate, influenced by external factors after birth. Though the lines are similar, subtle differences require mastery to discern.

If a self-proclaimed master only examines one hand, better to pay and leave quickly.

Luo flipped through Chen Jue’s left hand, probing his bones with his fingers, pondering for some time before speaking:

“Fellow traveler, your innate fate is troubled, afflicted by a solitary star. Before twenty, your mother passed and your father departed. Before cultivation, you wandered aimlessly without purpose.”

“Your father’s line is humble and honest, likely farmers or laborers. Yet your fate carries noble traces, a hidden dragon’s aura. Your mother’s lineage must be deeply rooted—probably descended from the fallen imperial family. But now is the new era; descendants of the old dynasty are as common as stray dogs.”

“The neighboring Western Capital, an ancient city of six dynasties, sees many such imperial descendants daily. It’s nothing unusual.”

“Judging by your accent, you hail from the Wu-Yue region, carrying the Dragon King’s water aura. You likely grew up in a coastal city around Zhejiang or Fujian. Your bone structure shows clear yin and yang; you are frank and straightforward, with elements of wood and metal. Your surname should be ‘Chen’—the character formed by the left ear radical plus the axe radical on the right, with the ‘wood’ element facing the sea.”

Afterward, Luo took Chen Jue’s right hand, flipping through it with growing fascination.

“Your acquired fate… is strange! Who altered your destiny? Such a peculiar tri-partition of preordained fate!”

“Fire element dominates, your name carries auspiciousness. Your name should have been ‘Jue’ as in awakening, not ‘Jue’ as in determination. Someone forcibly changed it midway, disrupting your acquired fate.”

“Had you not early joined our Dao sect and transcended the five elements’ fate cycle, you might still be trapped in confusion.”

Listening, Chen Jue recalled his elementary school days when a teacher, mishearing his local accent, registered his name incorrectly as ‘Chen Jue’ instead of ‘Chen Jue’ meaning awakening. Since then, all official documents bore the altered name.

“Senior, your insight is impressive. Indeed, my name was changed once,” Chen Jue nodded, deeply admiring the fortune-teller’s ability to deduce his true name and the trajectory of his life’s first half with just a glance.

This was a genuine master who truly bridged heaven and man. Chen Jue felt assured that visiting Huashan was no mistake.

“The reading is complete. Now let me cast a divination for you!” Luo set down Chen Jue’s right hand and plucked three ancient copper coins from the golden toad’s mouth.

He tossed them lightly onto the divination table. At a glance, Luo suddenly exclaimed:

“Well! No wonder I’ve felt restless lately. This worldly tribulation must be upon you!”

“Fellow traveler, have you recently encountered some grave matter? This looks like a deadly omen meant for me, not you!”

“Damned! I shouldn’t have cast this divination! You are a star of calamity, a solitary star doomed by the heavens!”

Shuddering as if confronted by something unclean, Luo hastily gathered the coins and golden toad, intending to fold up the table and flee. But seeing Chen Jue’s calm expression, he hesitated.

Not willing to give in, he cast the coins again. This time, Luo grew silent, peering at the hexagrams with astonishment:

“Strange! Just now, the heavens changed color—White Tiger unleashed—but now, the Azure Dragon returns to the sea, and all four seas are peaceful and serene.”

“Could it be that I’ve lost my touch from disuse?”

Luo cast several more times, each hexagram different—sometimes auspicious, sometimes ominous—ever-shifting.

Looking up at Chen Jue’s slightly puzzled face, the old man furrowed his brow, as if recalling something, then pointed toward the distant rock inscribed with ‘Quanzhen Rock’ and sighed:

“Cultivation, true cultivation—only by realizing one’s own Dao can one achieve truth.”

“You, fellow traveler, are contrarian, walking a path unlike others. You have first borrowed falsehood to attain truth, yet have not realized your own Dao! No wonder your acquired fate is chaotic—your heart is unsettled, your path unclear!”

“With an unsettled Dao heart, veiled from heaven’s secrets, even I cannot discern your future.”

Here ends the first installment! Last night was a late one, and today I’ve been recovering; I feel I must slow down a bit. After dinner, I will continue updating. No more all-nighters tonight—just as much as I can manage.