Chapter Twenty-Seven: Preaching

The Eight Trigrams sash and the Seven-Star Daoist crown adorned him. Treading on cloud-soled shoes, he ascended step by step.

Today was the day when Liaochan would lecture on virtue. The White Cloud Monastery had set aside all matters early on to come and listen.

Liaochan, with a solemn expression, ascended the Dharma platform. Yunhua stood respectfully behind him.

Three resonant chimes of the ritual bell sounded. Below the platform, the assembled Daoists chanted together the names of “The Boundless Celestial Honored One Who Saves,” “The Boundless Celestial Honored One of Fortune,” and “The Boundless Celestial Honored One of Merit.”

“Let those without compassion withdraw. Let those without filial piety withdraw. Let those without loyalty withdraw. Let the greedy for wealth withdraw, the lost in worldly desires withdraw, and the unprincipled withdraw. The foolish are not accepted; those without a heart for the Dao, do not listen.” Seated upon the Dharma platform, Liaochan gazed at the Daoists below and spoke.

Not a sound was heard below; clearly, no one would admit to being as described.

“The teachings are not given without affinity, not given to the unblessed, not given to those without wisdom’s root, not given to those without a heart for the Dao.” Liaochan spoke slowly, “Blessing and misfortune have no gate; only one’s deeds bring them. The teachings arise from cause and effect; each bears his own consequences. The law is not passed to six ears. Whether by eavesdropping or listening when one ought not, one will bear the ensuing karma and invite calamity—and gain nothing from it.”

Once Liaochan finished his warning, he paid no further heed, instead focusing his mind upon the Celestial Honored One, beginning to expound on the method of spirit preservation.

“To calm the mind and preserve the spirit is essential for those who seek the Way. From preservation arises wisdom; from stillness, no evil can touch. Nourishing the spirit lies in quietude and contemplation. Envision heaven and earth—no objects, no self. When the spirit wanders, it becomes the Yin Spirit. Bathed in the moon’s radiance, one nourishes the Yin. By incense and vows, the spirit is nourished. Let the Yin and Yang spirits arise together, and the Yang Spirit formed grants freedom of miraculous powers...”

As his words flowed, so did the Dharma follow. With each gentle explanation of the techniques of calming the mind and preserving the spirit, Liaochan seemed to enter a wondrous state—no self, no other, no thought, no gain. Within his mind, countless outcomes of the meditative method played out ceaselessly. His heart was tireless, his inner world unceasing. As the profundity of his teaching deepened, the assembly below the platform began to divide—some scratching their heads in confusion, some furrowing their brows in thought, some letting their minds wander beyond the world, while others beamed with delight.

“The foundation of cultivation lies in nature and life. When the Yang Spirit is perfected, one can preserve consciousness and nurture the embryo of the spirit. When the embryo becomes holy, if empowered by vows, one may enter the divine order...” The words came quicker and quicker, yet sounded like a great bell, tolling beside the ear. At that moment, seven-colored auspicious clouds appeared in the sky. Countless celestial flowers rained down, colorful and dazzling, falling upon the platform where Liaochan lectured. Their fragrance was enticing, their colors brilliant. Liaochan saw the celestial flowers descend, yet remained unmoved. The assembly below, however, was mostly entranced by the spectacle. Liaochan smiled and, with a few concluding words, finished his lecture.

“The path to divinity: the earth vast, the heavens open. Without great merit, one cannot bear witness to the Way. Without great will, one cannot become divine. Longevity and freedom lie within.” As Liaochan finished, the celestial flowers ceased to fall and the clouds dispersed. Without waiting for questions, Liaochan, accompanied by Yunhua, descended the platform and departed. It was only then that the assembly realized what had happened, beating their chests in regret, helpless to change it.

Celestial flowers rained down upon White Cloud Monastery, accompanied by auspicious clouds. Not only those within the monastery witnessed it; onlookers from miles around flocked to see the miracle. For a time, the capital was ablaze with excitement, crowds surrounding the monastery so tightly that not even water could pass through.

Yet within the high walls, Liaochan remained entirely undisturbed. Returning to the guest room with Yunhua, he opened the door just in time to see a flash of white; the little fox was already nestled in Yunhua’s arms, its bright black eyes glaring at Liaochan in wounded reproach. Liaochan touched his nose, feeling awkward. “I only said Yunhua couldn’t take you to the platform. I never said you had to be locked in the room. Why come looking for me?” he thought. But in the end, faced with the fox’s tearful gaze, he could only mutter, “Don’t forget evening lessons,” and fled under the watchful eyes of Yunhua and the little fox—hardly the image of a lofty master.

Back in his own room, Liaochan seated himself alone upon a meditation cushion and sank into thought. While lecturing, he had forcefully calmed his mind, unmoved by external things. But now, he could not help but contemplate. The raining of celestial flowers was no small matter—it was a sign of Heaven’s recognition, a kind of cosmic commendation. In thousands of years, such a phenomenon, aside from mere illusion, had occurred only a handful of times. This time, as he stepped onto the platform, Heaven had showered him with “floral rewards.” Surely there was something in his words that Heaven had approved. Liaochan carefully replayed every line of his lecture, yet could not fathom the reason.

As he racked his brains, a knock sounded at his door. With a wave of his sleeve, the door opened of its own accord. Yunhua entered, carrying the little fox.

“Master, should I become an immortal or a divinity? If I become an immortal, I can be free and unrestrained. If I become a divinity, I can reward good and punish evil. I’ve thought about it for ages and can’t decide. What do you think?” Clearly, Yunhua had taken the lecture to heart and now agonized over the choice between immortality and divinity.

“To become an immortal or a divinity?” Liaochan listened, then suddenly clapped his hands. “To become an immortal or a divinity—ha, ha, ha!” He burst into laughter, which infuriated Yunhua, who hugged the little fox tighter and glared. “Wicked master! What’s so funny? What’s so funny? I’m ignoring you!” she huffed, running off in a huff. Liaochan, still smiling, watched her disappear and wondered aloud, “What’s gotten into that girl? Running off so fast.” Muttering, he once again immersed himself in his world of thought.

To become an immortal? Or a divinity? This was no small question. What is an immortal? Immortals speak of transcendence—drawing upon the essence of heaven and earth, absorbing the radiance of sun and moon, consuming all things to replenish the self. Like parasites upon the heavenly order, they take from the world but are of no use to it. Thus, the Dao of Heaven naturally rejects the path of immortals, subjecting them to the three calamities and nine tribulations, trial after trial.

But the divine path is different. What is a divinity? Divinities command the laws, maintain order, shepherd beings, regulate yin and yang—they are the foundation upon which Heaven governs earth. Naturally, Heaven favors them. Not only do they wield authority, but their cultivation faces no calamities, though they lack the freedom and ease of immortals.

Understanding this, Liaochan was secretly delighted, realizing that he, too, was now favored by Heaven. With Heaven’s support, all things would come easier—beloved among men, flowers blooming beneath his feet, misfortune turning to fortune. After his joy, however, Liaochan could not help but murmur, “Ancestor of the Dao above, I wonder what you make of today’s events?”

Meanwhile, as Liaochan remained in his room, torn between joy and worry, tales of “Master Liaochan’s lecture at White Cloud Monastery, with celestial flowers and auspicious clouds” began to spread far and wide. Not only did commoners hear the story, but officials and nobles as well. Li Dongyang, Xie Qian, and Liu Jian were briefed about it in the cabinet and were left speechless for a long time. The Empress and the Crown Prince heard it retold in colorful detail by Liu Jin. Once the tale reached the Emperor, nothing could stand in the way of Liaochan’s audience at court.

That very night, the Ministers of Rites and Personnel arrived together, not only bearing apologies but also delivering the ordination certificates for Liaochan and Yunhua. Liaochan, not one to push his advantage, said little on the matter. After their conversation, he calmly returned to his room, preparing for his meeting with the Emperor the following day.