Chapter Ten: The First Disciple in the Rural Wilds

The mountains encircle the land, shrouded in a gentle mist. This is a peaceful little village, nestled at the foot of the hills, with verdant peaks as its backdrop and a small river winding around its edge. Were a master of geomancy to set foot here, he would surely be delighted; a jade belt encircles the village in front, the mountains support its back, and the water flows steadily—a place blessed with auspicious feng shui. Yet the hills are not grand, and the river is modest, so this village would never birth princes or ministers. Still, hunger and hardship are strangers here, and sometimes, fortune may produce a household or two of notable officials.

The village is called Li Family Village. Most of its inhabitants bear the surname Li and have dwelled here for hundreds of years, with ancestors who once achieved distinction. Even now, there are a few sons who serve as officials elsewhere. To outsiders, the Li Family Village is the most illustrious clan for a hundred miles around.

At the very least, the Li ancestral hall is grand and imposing.

Before the sun has risen over the slopes, Li Peach Blossom must already climb out of bed, wash clothes, cook rice, cut pig grass, and gather wild vegetables. She feeds pigs, chickens, ducks, and geese. From dawn till dusk, she labors ceaselessly, suffers constant scolding, and is often beaten. She never has enough to eat, so she secretly searches for bird eggs and wild fruits in the mountains while gathering vegetables to fill her stomach, for she is never allowed at the table during meals. Her portion is but a small bowl, and if she asks for more, she is beaten—for she is considered a burden, for she has no father, for her mother was drowned by the villagers. Although she is only seven years old.

Every day, Li Peach Blossom can only hide in the room her parents once occupied, quietly crying to herself. She misses her father, she misses her mother, but she cannot let anyone see her tears. The next day she must wear a smile as she steps outside, or else she will be beaten—sometimes by her grandmother, sometimes by her aunt. Her grandfather, uncles, and elders never utter a word.

As the morning mist begins to dissipate, Li Peach Blossom has already filled her basket with pig grass. Today, she found no bird eggs. The trees are still in bloom; the fruit won't ripen until autumn. With difficulty, she hoists her basket and prepares to descend the mountain. She must cook breakfast soon; if she is late, she will be beaten again.

Halfway down, she sees someone standing by the roadside, seemingly studying a stone. That stone has sat there for many years—plain and ordinary, nothing remarkable.

"Are you looking at that stone? Is there something inside?" Li Peach Blossom approaches, curiosity in her soft, sweet voice.

"Yes," the person replies, turning to gaze at Li Peach Blossom with interest, making her blush in embarrassment.

This stone-gazer is Dustless. Those who cultivate the Way often sense things tied to their destiny, and he had followed such a feeling here, pausing at this spot, never expecting to encounter a little girl.

At this moment, Dustless nearly collapses from the sight of her shy demeanor. Why is a child like her embarrassed?

"Are you a Daoist priest?" the little girl asks.

"Indeed I am. I’ve seen your kind of clothing before—when the old lady of the clan leader’s house died, people dressed like you came to perform ritual rites."

"Can you take on disciples? I can wash clothes and cook, raise chicks and ducklings, do chores, and cut pig grass. Look, I’ve gathered a lot this morning!" Without waiting for an answer, the little girl thrusts her basket toward Dustless.

Dustless is taken aback. Although he had come to accept this disciple, must she recommend herself so bluntly?

"Can’t you take me as a disciple? I truly can do many things. If you don’t, I’ll be sold to the son of Master Zhang in the county to be his wife, but his son is dead. I heard from Xiao Yun in the village that they want to buy me as a burial companion. Boohoo..." As she spoke, the little girl began to cry, stopping in her tracks, tears streaming like a river breaking its banks.

Dustless is at a loss, buffeted by the wind. What is happening?

An adult man alone in the wild, watching a girl barely six years old cry—what will people think if they see this? They’ll surely mistake him for a monster.

Her crying grows louder. Li Peach Blossom doesn’t know what’s come over her today, but the tears won’t stop, as if all her grievances have suddenly poured forth.

"Don’t cry, don’t cry. I can take on a disciple. Tell me what’s going on," Dustless says, clearly unprepared and flustered. Indeed, tearful prowess seems innate to all women, no matter their age!

"You really promise to take me as your disciple?" Li Peach Blossom asks cautiously, facing someone who is still a stranger to her.

"Yes, but first tell me about your situation, and your family must consent. If the clan has no objections, you can follow me up the mountain to learn the Way."

"Will being a Daoist mean I can have enough to eat every day? Will I not be scolded? Will no one curse me? Can I sleep as long as I want? Can I..." Now that Dustless has agreed, Li Peach Blossom’s heart settles. Her small mouth immediately begins to chatter about the conditions of disciple life, daily routines, benefits, work environment, and so forth.

Dustless’s headache grows. He wonders if his intuition was mistaken—he’s not recruiting a disciple, but a little ancestor.

"Yes, yes," Dustless quickly agrees, unable to endure her questions any longer. Otherwise, he might just flee.

"Oh," Li Peach Blossom beams with delight. Suddenly, Dustless notices that although she is a thin, yellow-haired waif, her features hint at beauty—the makings of a future beauty. No wonder she was to be sold for a ghost marriage. Even the wealthy wouldn’t want their dead son to marry an unattractive bride.

"My father died early—I don’t remember what he looked like, only that he died of illness and coughed up a lot of blood. My mother was drowned by them. They said she was unfaithful, but I know she was innocent—my aunt and her sisters framed her. My mother wanted to take me back to her family, but they wanted to sell us both. When my mother tried to escape, the clan caught us and accused her of trying to elope..." As Peach Blossom spoke, her tears flowed again.

Dustless was silent for a long time. Though he had no parents in this life, he at least had a master who truly cared for him. Poor Peach Blossom—what did she have but cruel relatives and a family that abused her?

"Don’t cry. From now on, no one will ever bully you. You’ll have enough to eat every day, and you’ll even get candied hawthorn." With a wave of his hands, Dustless produced a handkerchief and gently wiped away the tear stains from Peach Blossom’s face.

"Mm, master, you’re so kind. And how did you conjure that handkerchief just now? It’s amazing—can you teach me?"

She’s a chatterbox, and quick to climb the ladder—already calling him master before the formal ceremony. Dustless felt a headache coming on.

"Yes, yes, I’ll teach you later," Dustless hurriedly replied. "Now let’s go meet your family and the clan leader; you need to explain before leaving home to follow me up the mountain."

Dustless feared this future disciple. Thinking of her future junior brothers and sisters, he imagined they’d suffer as well. With that thought, he quickly took Peach Blossom’s hand and headed to the village.

"I’m afraid they won’t agree. They’ve already taken the deposit for selling me. Can’t we just leave directly?" Peach Blossom asked earnestly.

"Don’t worry, they can’t stop us. Trust me, your master is a man of great ability," Dustless replied confidently.

"A man of great ability? How great?" Peach Blossom wanted to ask, but held back, afraid her hopes would be dashed. Even knowing the odds were slim, she told herself it was worth trying.

In the village, smoke rose from every chimney as the villagers prepared breakfast. Peach Blossom, led by a young Daoist holding her hand, attracted curious glances, and people followed behind to watch the spectacle. Peach Blossom grew frightened, her body trembling slightly—her fear deepening as she neared her home, which brought her endless dread and sorrow.

"Where have you been? Not making breakfast! Useless wretch, just wait—I’ll beat you to death, you little brat!" The moment Peach Blossom stepped into the yard, a barrage of curses greeted her. Terrified, she shrank behind Dustless.

A middle-aged woman emerged from the house, brandishing a broom—held upside down, clearly not for sweeping but for beating. Upon seeing Dustless, she paused, then shrieked, "Her grandmother, come out! This little slut is just like her shameless mother, bringing a wild man home to run away!" Her voice was shrill and piercing, infuriating Dustless. How could an aunt speak so harshly to a child so young?

"What?" There was a commotion inside as the houseful of people poured out.