Finger of the Mustard Seed Immortal

The lingering traces of life in Crooked Jujube Village refused to dissipate from his heart, memories vague and tears blurring his vision. Yet, it was fortunate the forest wolves had not ripped out his heart—he still harbored a steadfast resolve, whether for Jiang Li’s actions that day or the origins of the Profound Breath Dust Scripture.

After losing consciousness, his first act upon awakening was not to open his eyes, but to summon his spirit and set the Profound Breath Dust Scripture in motion.

It was as if he had just awoken from a vast dream, his body utterly drained, lacking even the strength to open his eyes; all he could hear was the steady drumbeat of his heart in his left chest.

He did not know where he was. Everything around him felt suspended, as if he floated in a warm womb.

Gentle currents of air caressed his cheeks, stirring his disheveled hair.

The strange agitation in his heart was gradually soothed by the Profound Breath Dust Scripture, and the ethereal, illusory power around him slowly gathered, until at last he stretched his body and opened his eyes, breaking free from that half-dream state.

The first thing he saw was dappled light, then a faint pinkish hue, as if facing the blazing sun with his eyes closed.

His vision gradually cleared, and what he saw stirred Qin Chuan’s soul.

What was this? A small sun?

He found himself floating in a space shrouded in gloom, with only the object before him casting light upon this small corner.

“Hm?”

He focused what little spiritual energy remained into his eyes, and glimpsed something extraordinary.

Within the beam of light, minute particulate filaments appeared—like fireflies the size of a speck, linked head to tail in threads.

Surely, the soft breeze brushing his skin was nothing but this “light.”

He began the breathing method, accumulating spiritual energy within until it brimmed, then moved forward slowly, riding the wind from his fists.

Before long, he touched the “little sun.”

That contact revealed the truth—the glow on the surface of this little sun was made of those minute “fireflies.”

The warmth sank into his heart, like an old dog napping under a cangwu tree on a mellow winter afternoon.

The glow wrapped around him, and as he gently brushed it aside, an object was revealed within—a wordless stele.

Eight hornless dragons were carved atop the stele, artfully intertwined, their scales distinct, bones exposed—a stillness in motion, vibrant with life.

On either side, dragons soared through the air, etched in fine lines—vivid, dynamic, incredibly lifelike.

On the sunlit base of the stele, a lion and horse were engraved: the horse bent its legs and lowered its head, gentle and endearing; the lion raised its head, eyes fierce, exuding unmatched majesty.

The stele was adorned with floral patterns over its entire surface, about the height of a man; everything was present except for an inscription.

A strange feeling crept into Qin Chuan’s heart—the words of the stele seemed already etched within him, yet when he tried to recall them, his mind was blank.

Thinking back to the scene when he looked at the three cauldrons, realization dawned.

The first cauldron was adorned with carvings—blades and swords swirling, spears bristling in a boisterous dance.

The second was alive with divine birds, celestial fowl, marvelous flora, withered trees clinging to precipitous cliffs, waterfalls roaring—a land of spiritual brilliance, containing all wonders, forming a world unto itself.

But the most peculiar, the third cauldron, bore not a single mark!

The significance was clear.

A smile played on Qin Chuan’s lips. Glancing around, he noticed the changes.

The firefly-like light scattered, encircling him and the stele, as if in reverence.

Sudden enlightenment surged within, the essence of the Apocalypse and the Nine-Turn Cave Divine Path descending upon him together.

It was as if sweet dew flooded his mind; the glow condensed into a newborn radiance, merging into his brow and erasing the shackles of fate’s mist.

His heart cried out in exhilaration, his spirit felt light, as though he soared the heavens, clarity and understanding flooding his consciousness.

Unconsciously, he raised his right hand and began to write upon the wordless stele. The sound of stone flaking away rippled outwards, reverberating within his mind.

True words need not be many; the cultivation method was written in less than the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the inscription complete. Though only three to five hundred characters in total, the essence contained was worth thousands upon thousands.

Many symbols used were not common script, but encompassed the grandest forms—one character carried the weight of six.

On Mount Fu Luan, in the pill chamber, the incense was nearly spent.

The third alchemical furnace, once unadorned, now revealed a tableau of dragons and snakes in lively motion.

The serpents and pythons swimming against the river’s current ultimately transformed into dragons, dancing among clouds in the turquoise sky.

The master, moved, slowly opened her tightly shut eyes, her brows unfurling, lips curving into a smile. Though still cool and aloof, she seemed as an immortal descended to the mortal world.

Qin Chuan’s face glowed with joy—the inscription was finally complete. Yet a new problem arose: how to leave this place?

The master smiled faintly and shook her head. Seeing the incense about to expire, she flicked her fingers, sending a flower of force to strike the third cauldron. The energy, accompanied by the resonant peal of a bell, rippled outward.

Strangely, the ripple did not spread through the pill chamber, but instead roamed within the space of Qin Chuan’s mind.

The shock was overwhelming—blood surged, his consciousness roared, and his vision went white as he fainted.

He awoke muddle-headed the following morning.

Dawn broke through the sky, and dew refracted its light across the mountains, bringing a deeper peace.

Much had happened in the past two days. Rubbing his chest, still slightly sore, he felt joy rise to his face. The events of yesterday were vivid in his mind. Though he did not know why he had fainted, he had at last obtained his own cultivation method.

Rousing his spirit, the words from the wordless stele quietly settled in his heart.

Breath-cultivating techniques, methods for refining spirit and tempering the body—all were included.

This method was called the Mustard Seed Immortal Finger, written in three scrolls.

The first scroll: Direct Instruction on the Way of Heaven and Earth.

The second scroll: Direct Instruction on Internal Methods.

The third scroll: Direct Instruction on External Refinement.

It was said that before the world was opened, there was a mass of primordial chaos—no mountains, no rivers, no sun or moon, no lakes or seas, let alone living creatures or beasts.

Only after receiving true insight did the division of pure and impure energies, the emergence of mountains and rivers, and the sun and moon become manifest.

Of course, these were events that existed only in the unseen; no one knew what primordial chaos truly was, and none could fathom its details.

There was, in the beginning, no "Way" in this world—only after many had trodden a path did it become the Way.

The Way itself is without question; questions elicit no answer.

Heaven’s mechanism turns of itself; the Way follows nature. If one asks the Way, it does not answer, for it is an automatic unfolding, a wheel turning of its own accord. With the emergence of primordial chaos came yin and yang; from two came three, and three gave birth to all things.

Ancient sages spoke: The Way gave birth to one; one gave birth to two; two gave birth to three; three gave birth to all things.

The manifestation of the Way split into two extremes; the ultimate in the Way is called the Heavenly Way; what interconnects all is called the Human Way. Both are rooted in the principle of yin and yang.

The workings of the world, too, arise from the union of yin and yang. The three lights—sun, moon, and stars; the three powers—heaven, earth, and man. Heaven, earth, and man coexist under the same Way. The Way gives birth to the two energies; the energies give birth to the three powers; the three powers beget the five elements and all creation.

Of all things, the human body is most precious—the spirit of heaven and earth.

Perhaps it is because, by exhausting one’s nature in a lifetime, one can also penetrate the principles of all things. To inquire into principles is to fulfill one’s nature and destiny; to cultivate nature and life, to merge with the Way, is to attain longevity equal to heaven and earth, to shine alongside the sun and moon, to endure.

In simpler terms, the world originally had no Way. This is easy to understand—the world is but a mass of primordial energy; talk of the Way is mere empty words.

Later, primordial energy split into yin and yang and mingled, and distinctions gradually appeared.

Mountains, valleys, all things evolved—but there were no humans as the spirit of all things. Some beings in the Wildlands were born with the power to move mountains and part seas, but still had no connection to the Way.

Perhaps it was that a certain sage, passing through a wind-swept valley, happened to feel the spring breeze on his face.

Where does the wind come from, and where does it go? To see a mountain and not see a mountain, to see water and not see water.

An ordinary cat or dog would think nothing of it, but the sage was suddenly struck by insight and pursued the spring breeze.

That spring wind was like the Way of Heaven and Earth, the principle of all things.

Perhaps after a lifetime of pursuit, at journey’s end, the sage lifted the veil on a corner of this familiar yet strange world, soaring on the wind for ten thousand miles, seeking the end of an unattainable spring breeze.

Through hardship and study, stripping away illusion to find the true self, discarding the false and keeping the real.

Those who attained minor realization of the Way achieved undying bodies. Those who achieved great realization shed their mortal shell, broke free of the fetters of heaven and earth, and saw their true self.

This is the Heavenly Way.

But the ultimate truths of heaven and earth are not so easily found. Later, other seekers, finding no door to truth, forged new paths, absorbing the energy of heaven and earth, gathering spiritual energy for themselves.

Condensing the golden core, nurturing the nascent soul, breaking through to the primordial spirit.

This use of the Way is the Human Way.

Those at the pinnacle, though unable to break free from the shackles of heaven and earth to shine with sun and moon as true immortals, could still roam the world as long-lived, undying earthly immortals.

Today, most methods handed down rely on entering the Way through the Human Way.

Over time, people have blurred “cultivating truth” and “cultivating immortality” together.

Returning to Qin Chuan’s “Mustard Seed Immortal Finger”.

Without the first scroll—Direct Instruction on the Way of Heaven and Earth—it would be no different from the common methods of the world.

But with that first scroll, two concepts must be distinguished—realm and cultivation.

In ancient times, cultivators did not deliberately absorb spiritual energy, nor did they follow specific routes for guiding energy; seekers of the Way spoke only of realms, not cultivation.

But nowadays, that is utterly impractical. Those with high realms but shallow cultivation may not even survive. They act too late, and the road is easily broken.

True cultivation has largely been lost to reality, leaving only a ripple in the river of time.

Realm and cultivation complement each other, and though today’s cultivation world is not what it once was, this view persists.

Take the path of the alchemist: to progress, one cannot avoid seeking the Way. For this reason, the Mustard Seed Immortal Finger places “Direct Instruction on the Way of Heaven and Earth” as its first scroll.

Seeking the Way is of utmost importance—that much is clear. However, before establishing a foundation, before opening the sea of consciousness, seeking the Way is nearly impossible.

Take the sage who gained enlightenment from the spring breeze. His aptitude must have been extraordinary, yet after a lifetime’s pursuit, all he achieved was flight upon the wind.

The method is inscribed in his heart, yet its essence is subtle and obscure. Still, upon reading it, his mind is invigorated, and he studies it with care.

He focuses on the first scroll—Direct Instruction on the Way of Heaven and Earth.

The source of the Heavenly Way, at the dawn of chaos, saw no sun or moon, no division of yin and yang.

Heaven and earth were set apart, energies differentiated, the heavens dark, the universe ancient and wild.

Sun and moon waxed and waned, stars arrayed in their courses, the law manifest, the three qi in motion...

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