Whoosh!
Lu Zheng’s vision blurred again, though he hadn’t moved, the surroundings suddenly felt vivid and alive.
“My illusions are impressive? I don’t think so, you saw through them right away, didn’t you?” Taoist Yuting said, slightly surprised, “How did you spot the flaw in the second illusion?”
Lu Zheng glanced at Yuanning, “Just now, when Senior Brother Yuanning looked at me, he seemed a bit smug.”
Yuanning froze, quickly stifling a smile and lowering his head in silence.
Then Lu Zheng looked down and noticed a stone bench where he’d placed the wine jars, unsure when it had appeared.
Lu Zheng, “…”
“Well done, well done, sharp mind, good at observing,” Taoist Yuting nodded.
Lu Zheng felt a twinge of unease, wondering if he was still inside Taoist Yuting’s illusion world.
“Phew—”
A breeze blew past, and the stone bench before Lu Zheng shifted back to its original spot.
Taoist Mingzhang strolled out from the back courtyard, “Yuting, you old rogue, no honour, bullying my new disciple?”
Taoist Yuting laughed, “Your little disciple is no ordinary one, his true qi cultivation already rivals two or three years of training for most.”
“Oh?”
Taoist Mingzhang’s eyes lit up, and he grabbed Lu Zheng’s wrist.
Recently, Lu Zheng had gained some luck and, spurred by the scorpion demon incident, had been relentlessly building his cultivation whenever he adjusted to his progress, far surpassing his previous level.
Thankfully, he hadn’t visited White Cloud Temple in a while, so his rapid improvement seemed reasonable, didn’t it?
Taoist Mingzhang sent true qi through Lu Zheng’s meridians and dantian, utterly shocked.
Taoist Yuting didn’t know when Lu Zheng was formally taken as a disciple, but Mingzhang did.
By his count, it had been just over four months since he first taught Lu Zheng the *Midday-Midnight Meditation Breathing Technique*.
When he taught him the immobilisation spell, he already knew Lu Zheng progressed remarkably fast, but today’s progress was even more striking, several times beyond ordinary cultivators.
A heaven-sent genius?
Or the result of prior foundations?
This speed rivalled the most formidable senior masters in the Taoist sect.
Taoist Mingzhang suddenly felt he couldn’t quite read Lu Zheng.
Could he have brought a future Taoist master into White Cloud Temple?
“You drank the scorpion wine too, didn’t you?”
“I did!” Lu Zheng nodded.
Taoist Mingzhang nodded, suspecting the scorpion wine played a role.
Calling others to move the wine, he led Lu Zheng and Taoist Yuting to a quiet room in the back courtyard.
Taoist Mingzhang tested Lu Zheng’s skills, then they shared a vegetarian meal at the temple.
In the afternoon, Mingzhang and Yuting went to the peak of Shaotong Mountain to play chess and drink, with Lu Zheng keeping them company.
“By the way, where’s Senior Brother Yuanjing today?”
“He and Junior Brother Mingjun went to the next county for a blessing ritual,” Mingzhang answered, placing a piece.
Lu Zheng nodded, noticing Yuting’s cup was empty, and refilled it.
…
An hour later, the game ended with Yuting winning by one piece.
“Three years, and your chess hasn’t improved a bit!” Yuting teased, scratching his beard.
Mingzhang scoffed, “I’m the head of a temple now, teaching disciples, performing rituals, where’s the time to hone my chess? Think everyone’s like you, carefree with no responsibilities?”
“Heh—”
Yuting sneered, “Don’t think I don’t know why you brought Mingjun from Jizhou.”
Mingzhang rolled his eyes, unabashed.
Yuting sipped his wine and turned to Lu Zheng, “Do you play chess?”
“A little,” Lu Zheng nodded cautiously.
“Then play a game with me.”
Yuting grinned, “Since I drank your scorpion wine, I’ll offer a gift. If you beat me, I’ll teach you that illusion technique, how’s that?”
Lu Zheng’s eyes lit up.
Mingzhang raised an eyebrow, “You’re willing to part with it?”
“It’s not some forbidden secret, but he has to beat me first, if he loses, he gets just an illusion dragon talisman.”
Mingzhang turned, “Go, if you win, I’ll teach you a sword technique too.”
So Lu Zheng eagerly took Mingzhang’s seat.
As the junior, Lu Zheng played white, moving first.
Having watched, he knew Yuting and Mingzhang’s chess skills surpassed Shen Ying’s by a notch.
For the technique, Lu Zheng went all in, adding two strands of luck to his chess skill to ensure victory and avoid a mid-game boost that might expose his sudden improvement.
…
“Well?”
“Interesting!”
“Hm…”
Yuting played slower and slower, while Mingzhang, sipping wine, watched with growing excitement.
“Good move! I didn’t expect you to have such chess prowess, Yuanzheng.”
Yuting shook his head, “No, his skill is average, but this strategy is new to me, quite interesting.”
Though Yuting tried to recover, he ultimately lost to Lu Zheng by two pieces.
“One more game, I’ll definitely win,” Yuting declared confidently.
Mingzhang laughed, “Yuting, old man, a bet’s a bet!”
Yuting smacked his lips, nodding with a wry smile, “Fine, I concede!”
Lu Zheng wiped his sweat, “Lucky, lucky, that was close!”
…
They descended the mountain back to the temple.
Yuting asked Mingzhang for a quiet room, took Lu Zheng inside, and Mingzhang left them.
“My illusion technique, beyond true qi and spiritual sense, includes several secret hand seals to conceal aura, block sound, and obscure light,” Yuting explained, “Today, I’ll pass it to you, so listen carefully.”
“Wait, I need the loo!”
Yuting, “…”
Lu Zheng stepped out, went to the back courtyard privy, travelled to the modern day to grab his phone, turned on the recorder, and hurried back.
“Alright, Taoist, let’s start!”
Yuting then demonstrated, guiding true qi flow while explaining the seals, detailing how to affect the five senses, construct illusion worlds, and more.
In theory, many tricks of wandering charlatans, like turning stones to gold, making flowers bloom from nothing, or growing trees from flat ground, fell under illusions.
The difference lay in cultivation level, affecting the size, complexity, number of people influenced, and duration of the illusion.
So, if Lu Zheng mastered this, he could replicate the pear-planting Taoist’s feat from *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio*.
