Chapter Twenty: The Capping Ceremony
"This is a skill only possessed by Daoists!"
Even the experienced mountain patrol guards were startled by the scene before them.
In a daze, they left Lu Qian’s residence.
They had come at Li Lin’s command.
If he had been a mere apprentice, they would have bullied him without a second thought.
No one would have cared.
But a Daoist is different.
A Daoist is a formally ordained disciple of the Profound View.
Only the Hall of Enforcement or the Administration Pavilion can decide the life and death of a Daoist.
Lu Qian did not stop them, letting them leave as they wished.
After all, they were the temple’s enforcers; even as a Daoist, one dared not kill them recklessly.
Night fell, the stars glittered.
A dense, pitch-black mist lingered in the forest, mingling with the pungent scent of blood.
Lu Qian looked upon the scattered flesh covering the ground, his brows faintly furrowed.
With a wave of his hand, two paper figures appeared before him.
“Clear all this away.”
The power of the dark True Water condensed in his dantian was indeed formidable.
A single drop of True Water weighed at least a hundred pounds; when shot out, it behaved like a high-pressure water jet, blasting a person down to bare bones.
Lu Qian closed his eyes in contemplation, the golden disk in his sea of consciousness slowly rotating.
Method of Drawing True Water by the Lunar Shade (Initiate 1/1000)
Behind the incantation was a pitch-black ring, densely marked, with only one notch lit.
Indeed, it deserved its reputation as a high-level breathing technique.
Even to reach the beginning stage required so many notches.
Three times a day for more than three hundred days to achieve initiation.
Beyond that lay proficiency and mastery.
Who knows how long it would take to reach the end.
The path of cultivation required pills, techniques, caves, and arrays.
Having become a Daoist, he now had the right to establish his own residence; if he could gather all these, his cultivation would advance much faster.
Yet the greatest gain from this seclusion was not merely that.
It was the mutated Yellow Springs Diagram.
Lu Qian had unexpectedly comprehended the true meaning of “the fish leaps over the dragon gate, transforming into a dragon.”
This insight was now nestled in his mind, fused with the visualization diagram.
Each time he practiced and visualized, the flood dragon grew in the Yellow Springs, absorbing and condensing a drop of True Water.
His cultivation speed had increased manyfold.
One day, when all his true energy was transformed into True Water, he would have achieved mastery in the Qi Refining stage.
He named this mutated visualization diagram “Flood Dragon Lurking in the Yellow Springs.”
“Lurking” meant lying in wait, but also “submission” and “conquest.”
The flood dragon hidden in the Yellow Springs would, one day, transform into a true dragon and subdue the waters.
“Indeed, building a car behind closed doors is not the way,” Lu Qian sighed.
“Haha, realizing this already puts you ahead,” came the sound of crisp applause nearby.
An old man in his fifties or sixties appeared not far off.
Li Du had aged considerably in recent times, his temples now entirely white.
“Greetings, Master,” Lu Qian’s heart tightened.
He had no idea when this old Daoist had appeared; he had not sensed him at all.
At the Qi Refining stage, one begins to nurture spiritual awareness.
Though Lu Qian was only at the beginning of Qi Refining, his spiritual sense could reach twenty meters.
Li Du had appeared so silently, showing his strength was far greater, perhaps approaching the Spirit Nourishing stage.
“It seems you cultivate the method of Dark True Water. I too practice this path. If you have questions, ask me.”
Li Du eyed the paper figures clearing the corpses, smiled, “I intended to smooth things over for you, but you acted decisively. Very well, I will settle matters with the mountain patrol; they will not trouble you again.”
Lu Qian hurriedly thanked him.
Within the temple, one’s fate was not one’s own.
Even as a Daoist, if others wished to make things difficult, there was little one could do.
“Wait, old as I am, I have one condition,” Li Du said, his words deliberate. “I must personally place the coronet on you. I am old, and my skills must be passed on.”
“Agreed,” Lu Qian replied, arranging his robes and bowing deeply, “Student Lu Qian, pays respects to Teacher.”
In the Qi Refining stage, one is called a Coronet Daoist and wears the coronet.
One way is to register at the Administration Pavilion, where the master conducts the ceremony on an auspicious day.
Another is for a senior to personally crown the disciple, usually as a ritual of accepting a pupil and passing on skills.
Li Du was a masterful alchemist, a high-grade potion maker; to become his student was a worthy fate.
Li Du smiled and nodded, looking very satisfied, “No time like the present; tomorrow I shall hold the coronet ceremony for you.”
The next day, Medicine Mountain bustled with activity, countless servants busy.
The stewards of the four major pharmacies arrived with their apprentices to pay respects.
Lu Qian awoke slowly from meditation.
Opening the door, he found Lin Qing waiting outside, clad in a bright red palace dress.
“Master Lu, the stewards of the four pharmacies are arriving soon. Master Li requests your presence.”
Lin Qing bowed gracefully, her snowy skin and slender neck exuding a faint fragrance.
Since Lu Qian had broken through to the Qi Refining stage, the forms of address naturally changed.
He was now Lin Qing’s senior.
Zhu Long stood quietly nearby, only bowing.
Both were somewhat numb towards Lu Qian now.
Before, they could compete, but now they didn’t even have the right to try; they were simply not on the same level.
“Sister Lin, no need for such formality. If you call me Master, and Teacher Li does too, we’ll confuse the hierarchy.”
“No, the capable come first,” Lin Qing laughed, seeing Lu Qian not putting on airs, she felt at ease.
“Let’s do this: I’ll call you Senior Brother, and you call me Junior Sister. Senior Brother~” Lin Qing said coquettishly.
Lu Qian got goosebumps and hurried away.
Returning to the grand hall of the pharmacy, he found Li Du smiling at the door, greeting the visitors.
“Steward Zhao, well met.”
“Steward Zhang, long time no see. Sword Edge is here too; you young people should exchange ideas.”
A middle-aged, portly man came with a young man, sharp and full of ambition.
The young man looked at Lu Qian with eager eyes, clearly wanting to compete.
Lu Qian knew this must be Yan Jianfeng, the pharmacy’s top talent.
So young and spirited—Lu Qian had no intention of contending with him.
The four stewards and their disciples were assembled.
As Li Du’s sole student, Lu Qian was destined to inherit the position of Steward of the Profound Chamber, so none dared slight him.
Lu Qian nodded and smiled, surprised at how complicated the coronet ceremony was.
And there was more to come.
First, the Administration Pavilion would register him.
Then, they would open the altar and pray to heaven.
Afterwards, the rituals: teacher gathers hair, bestows coronet, adds robe, thanks the Five Graces, bows to the Ten Directions.
There were two types of coronet: the Primordial Cap and the Harmonious Cap. Lu Qian chose the Harmonious Cap.
It was a square black cloth hat, with a jade inlay at the forehead.
Worn, it was dignified and handsome, befitting a man of the Dao.
During this process, Lu Qian realized his teacher’s status was quite high.
Almost all the stewards called him Uncle or Senior Brother.
“Master Fang, Head Craftsman, arrives!” the apprentice at the door called loudly.
“How come the Head Craftsman is here?”
“Strange, isn’t this just a regular coronet ceremony?”
In a flash, all stewards and apprentices stood up, whispering nervously, their faces unsettled.
The Head Craftsman was one of the Eight Chief Stewards.
The Lord of the Spirit Treasure Hall rarely managed affairs; all authority lay with the Head Craftsman.
With the chief arriving, how could the crowd not be anxious?
Li Du and Lu Qian remained calm, earning silent admiration for their composure.
In truth, Lu Qian had never met the Head Craftsman.
A refined middle-aged man, face pale as jade, long beard flowing, entered the grand hall surrounded by Daoists.