Chapter Ten: The Forests of Ten Directions

“Our temple is named the Temple of Profound Communion, a sect founded two hundred years ago by the Daoist of Profound Communion.”

“The internal organization follows the widely practiced Ten Directions Monastic System.”

Wang Ming was quite familiar with all this.

“Ten Directions Monastic System?”

“Yes. In brief, the sect has ‘Three Overseers, Five Masters, Eight Stewards, and Eighteen Chiefs.’”

The Three Overseers are: the General Overseer, the Teaching Overseer, and the Kitchen Overseer. The General Overseer manages all affairs, the Teaching Overseer is responsible for the sect’s techniques and scriptures, and the Kitchen Overseer oversees the kitchen, monthly stipends, logistics, and so on.

The Five Masters are: the Hall Master (Disciplinary Hall; in charge of discipline and supervision), the Shrine Master (Spiritual Treasure Shrine; alchemy and artifact forging), the Scripture Master (Scripture Institute of Talismans and Arrays; talismanic and array arts), the Transformation Master (Spiritual Transformation Hall; caretaking of spirit beasts, ghosts, corpses, etc.), and the Tranquility Master (Spiritual Garden; cultivation of spirit herbs and plants, preparation of spiritual food, etc.).

The Eight Stewards are: Hospitality, Residence, Treasury, Accounts, Scriptures, Records, Halls, and Titles.

The Eighteen Chiefs each head miscellaneous duties, including: Treasury Chief, Estate Chief, Hall Chief, Bell Chief, Drum Chief, Gate Chief, Tea Chief, Water Chief, Fire Chief, Rice Chief, Vegetable Chief, Granary Chief, Mill Chief, Grinder Chief, Garden Chief, Latrine Chief, Stable Chief, and Sanitation Chief.

Cultivation realms are divided into Embryonic Breathing, Qi Refinement, Nurturing Spirit, Dao Foundation, Pill Tribulation, and so on.

The Three Overseers and Five Masters are at least in the mid-to-late Nurturing Spirit stage, while the Master of Profound Communion is unfathomably deep in cultivation.

“However, the Temple of Profound Communion differs from ordinary secular temples. The Three Overseers and Five Masters hold their positions mostly as honors, and devote their time to cultivation. Day-to-day affairs are handled by the Eight Stewards and Eighteen Chiefs. Those are the ones we’ll be dealing with.”

At this, Wang Ming sighed and glanced at Li Lin. “Besides the Eight Stewards, other stewards are called miscellaneous stewards, on par with the Eighteen Chiefs. If Li Lin didn't have his elders to rely on, he’d never have gotten an A-rank token. He really managed to put on a show this time.”

“I see. You’re quite knowledgeable about these matters. Are you also from a distinguished family in the temple?”

Wang Ming flushed and waved his hand, saying, “Not at all. My older brother is only an assistant to the Garden Chief. I’m truly ashamed—I only got in thanks to his help.”

Wang Ming was just a few days shy of twenty-one, and his talent was lacking. Without some connections in the sect, he might have long been devoured by ghost soldiers. Relying on his brother, he only received a D-rank token, which says much about his poor aptitude. This life, he expected nothing more for himself, and thus preferred to keep a low profile, disliking those who tried to stand out.

“By the way, keep your tokens safe. Different tokens mean different treatment.”

All newcomers start as Daoist acolytes—essentially temple servants. Holders of A-rank tokens are exempt from chores and receive one spirit coin per month. B-rank tokens require seven days of work per month, with two months earning one coin. C-rank tokens receive a day off every three days, earning one coin every three months. D-rank tokens get one day off every seven days and earn one coin every six months.

Of course, even Daoist acolytes are counted as half-sect members. The sect doesn’t overburden them; most can get by with minimal effort.

But if one fails to reach the Qi Refinement stage within three years, their token is revoked and they are demoted to the lowest rank of menial labor, losing sect status and becoming mere servants, subject to others’ whims.

There is another case: someone like Lu Qian, who had already trained in cultivation and reached the Embryonic Breathing stage prior to entering. For them, the time limit is reduced to one year—they must advance to Qi Refinement within a year.

“One year, huh…” Lu Qian mused silently. He possessed the mysterious Golden Mirror—he wondered whether it would allow him to reach the Qi Refinement stage within a year. The Profound Communion Breathing Method was only at minor completion now; eventually, it would reach major completion, but he did not know if there were further realms beyond that. In total, there were four to five hundred increments remaining. Without relying on elixirs or other aids, and training three times daily, it would take at least a hundred days to reach major completion of the Embryonic Breathing stage—under ideal conditions. But with monthly chores and other affairs, it was impossible to devote every day to rigorous cultivation. As for the subsequent techniques, who knew how long they would take to master?

At this moment, the group passed through a grove, and a towering, majestic white mountain gate appeared before them. The gate was grand, with four pillars and three arches, entirely made of pristine white marble. In the center, iron hooks and silver strokes spelled out three ancient characters: Temple of Profound Communion.

A vast and majestic aura swept over them. Everyone felt a surge of heroic ambition in their hearts. Passing through this gate meant severing ties with the mundane world and stepping onto the immortal path.

Standing before the mountain gate was a child, three feet tall, with a pale face and rosy cheeks, dressed in red. In the darkness, the child looked eerie, with enormous pupils and an expressionless face, hardly seeming human.

“I am Li Yutong, the Daoist of the Ghostly Child. Please follow me and refrain from making noise,” the child rasped in an ancient, hoarse voice.

“Yes, Master Ghostly Child,” Li Lin replied respectfully, bowing, and the rest followed suit.

The naming generations of the Temple of Profound Communion are: Tong, Ming, Miao, Dian, Shen, Ao, You, Xuan; then follows: Zhu, Yu, Zhi, Ying, Tian, Sheng, Di, Cheng. The ‘Tong’ generation belongs only to the founder, the Daoist of Profound Communion. The ‘Ming’, ‘Miao’, and ‘Dian’ generations are mostly held by the temple’s upper echelons. The next four generations are mainly senior disciples or various stewards. In addition to entry regulations, generation names also depend on strength—if one’s cultivation meets the standard, they may be granted a higher generation name by the leadership, so as to avoid the embarrassment of a powerful member with a low seniority title.

Having said this, the child turned and entered the gate, leading the way along a narrow path, with the group following closely behind.

Suddenly, the sound of flapping wings filled the air. A flock of black crows with golden eyes swept overhead, and in their midst, a single black crow with a wingspan of seven feet, exuding a chill, landed before the child.

Upon landing, the black crow was enveloped in a flash of black mist and transformed into a middle-aged man clad in pitch-black feathered robes, with a hooked nose and a deathly pale face. His eyes swept over the group like knives as he spoke, his voice clanging like metal: “Who are you, and why are you traveling at night?”

“I am Li Yutong, known as the Ghostly Child, greeting Master Deep Crow,” the child replied respectfully, bowing, inwardly thinking that luck was ill today—why did he have to encounter this star of ill omen on duty tonight?

“Oh? You haven’t told me your reason yet. Must I flay you alive before you answer?” Deep Crow snorted coldly.

“I am leading new Daoist acolytes of the ‘Zhi’ generation into the temple,” said Li Yutong, producing a sect token.

“I see.” The Daoist named Deep Crow turned to the group, a fierce smile flickering across his face. “Greetings, all. Hahaha.”

“Greetings, Master Deep Crow,” the group replied, bowing.

Lu Qian silently thought to himself that this sect was far too eerie—could it be one of those infamous demonic cults? Or perhaps it had to do with their cultivation methods. The name alone—Profound Communion—suggested dealings with the mysterious and the sinister.

Regardless, these two before him were both extremely powerful. Lu Qian had once thought himself reasonably strong, but now he realized he was only a novice within this sect.

Deep Crow glanced around the group, his eyes glinting with a half-smile. Those caught in his gaze all bowed their heads in deference—including Lu Qian, who had survived by knowing when to keep his head down, knowing that standing out was often dangerous. Not all masters would show appreciation for a bold spirit.

Of course, there were always a few in every group who insisted on being different, refusing to bow, instead meeting the master’s gaze directly. Perhaps they wished to demonstrate their dignity, to stand out from the crowd.

“Since you’re new here, let me give you a lesson—free of charge,” Deep Crow said with a sinister grin, his pupils narrowing into slits. He raised a finger and pointed.

Whoosh!

A faint green, ghostly wind swept across.

“This lesson is called ‘Respect Your Elders and Masters.’ Hahaha, off you go!”

Deep Crow laughed heartily, his body shrouded in black clouds, transforming back into a black crow and leading the flock away.

The group turned back, only to see that the defiant one had turned into a sculpture of green ice. A gust of wind passed, and the figure crumbled into dust.