Chapter 153: The Three Trials of Demon, Literature, and Dao

Chu Youcai studied the archaic inscriptions given by the Dragon King. He knew not how much time had passed, yet he remained utterly unable to commit them to memory.

"If I cannot even memorize these archaic inscriptions, how can I hope to study the reincarnation scriptures?"

"There is little time left; Hongyu is still waiting for me in the town."

Hesitating no longer, Chu Youcai exhausted his mental focus once more before taking out a ten-year-old Magic Cloud Flower from his bosom and swallowing it.

Only two twenty-year-old and two ten-year-old Magic Cloud Flowers remained in his bosom.

Simultaneously, fueled by the celestial herb's instantaneous restorative power, his mind became extraordinarily lucid.

With all his concentration, he stared fixedly at the characters before him.

At this moment, he ceased to dissect their forms and instead began to read their essence.

He ignored the characters themselves, focusing instead on the aura, the intent, and the spiritual Qi emanating from around them.

Possessing the pinnacle of the iceberg, the light of the rising sun, and the effect of the Magic Cloud Flower, he slowly and involuntarily began to resonate with these characters.

It seemed as though a voice entered his mind, followed by a resounding boom: "Admirable spirit! Having simultaneously laid the foundations of demonic arts, Daoist arts, and scholarly Qi, your mind remains clear and untainted, granting you the qualification for the trial. The first trial begins."

Chu Youcai was startled inwardly. Could this be the trial of the archaic inscriptions?

In an instant, he found himself inside a study within a friend's home. It was the height of summer, and even the night was stiflingly hot. Intending to sleep there, his friend had tried to dissuade him, saying, "There are ghosts here; one cannot dwell here at night."

To which he had replied, "I fear nothing." Seeing that Chu Youcai could not be persuaded, his friend gave up. Observing that dusk had fallen, his friend hurried away.

Thus time passed until the deep of night, when Chu Youcai suddenly heard a rustling sound outside the door. He saw something as thin as paper slowly creeping in through the gap in the door.

A thought stirred in Chu Youcai's heart: It seems this is the first trial of the archaic inscriptions.

After entering the room, the object slowly unfolded into the shape of a human—strikingly, that of a woman. Then, with disheveled hair and a protruding tongue, she assumed the appearance of a ghastly ghost.

Chu Youcai could not help laughing and said, "Hair, yet somewhat messy; a tongue, yet somewhat long. What is there to be frightened of?"

Without missing a beat, the female ghost removed her own head and placed it on the desk.

Chu Youcai laughed even more heartily, saying, "Having a head was already insufficient to inspire fear, let alone now that you lack even a head."

Finding herself utterly helpless, the ghost had no choice but to retreat far away.

Late into the night, the ghost returned once more. Wearing a look of bitter resentment, she lunged abruptly to a spot merely a foot away from Chu Youcai, staring intently at him with her gloomy, eerie eyes. Her face, however, was as pitch-black as lacquer.

Chu Youcai, however, burst into loud laughter. Dipping his finger into some ink on the desk, he smeared it across his own face as well, then opened his eyes wide and glared back at the female ghost with a burning gaze.

Overwhelmed with shame, the female ghost had no choice but to depart.

In this manner, Chu Youcai slept soundly until dawn.

Then, Chu Youcai abruptly heard a voice from the ethereal void: "Your mind and consciousness are limpid and serene. The trial of the demonic gate has been passed. The trial of scholarly Qi shall now commence."

He found himself standing beside a lake channel, holding sowing materials and tasked with cultivating the surrounding fields. A light drizzle fell from the sky, shrouding the surroundings in a misty haze.

Without a moment's hesitation, he plowed the earth continuously until the sun sank in the west, finally finishing his day's farm work just as the rain ceased.

At that moment, a boy riding backward upon an ox slowly, ever so slowly, approached from afar.

Reaching Chu Youcai, the boy gazed at him, suddenly let out a gentle sigh, and asked, "Why are you here? What path is this path? What mountain is this mountain?"

Pondering deeply, a flash of inspiration struck Chu Youcai, and he recited: "I came amidst wind and rain, and depart treading mist and rosy clouds. The slanting light paints ten thousand peaks in emerald; this is the path of my return to the mountain."

Hearing this, the boy remained silent for a moment of slight reflection, then rode away leisurely on his ox.

The ox moved but a single step, yet it was already half a li away.

And from the ethereal void, the voice sounded once more: "Scholarship and literary Qi flow abundantly. Acceptable. Initiate the final trial of Daoist arts."

Before Chu Youcai could react, he discovered he was situated within a ruined garden. He was now a scholar, impoverished and destitute, advanced in years yet still unmarried.

It was deep in the night when a gorgeously attired woman peered at him through the window. Whether ghost or fox, she possessed an extraordinary, captivating beauty that set the heart aflutter.

For reasons unknown, Chu Youcai's mind was in a trance; the previous two trials had consumed the greater part of his mental focus, and at this moment, losing control of his senses, he half-consciously beckoned to the woman.

Seeing this, the woman smiled faintly and entered the room, spending the night intimately entwined with him.

Yet from beginning to end, the woman never uttered a single word, merely smiling and casting sidelong glances.

Nearly a month passed thus. As Chu Youcai's mind gradually recovered a measure of clarity, he persistently asked the woman why she never spoke. Compelled by circumstances, the woman took up a brush and wrote: "This humble concubine was originally a favored maid of the Hanlin Academician, unhappily dying in the flower of youth. Because I was clever at slander during my lifetime, I caused family members to become as irreconcilable as fire and water. The King of Hell consequently punished me to become a mute ghost, unable to speak. Two hundred years have now passed. If you, sir, are willing to copy ten volumes of the Diamond Sutra for me, relying upon the Buddhist power therein, I may be liberated from the sea of suffering. I pray for your compassion."

Upon reading these words, Chu Youcai snapped fully awake.

So that was it! Such a rigorous trial! If he had merely written the Diamond Sutra out of a purely Buddhist impulse, lacking the heart of Daoist cultivation, the trial would naturally have failed.

Yet, steadying his mind and formulating a plan, he quickly copied ten volumes of the Diamond Sutra and presented them to the woman.

Overwhelmed with boundless gratitude, the woman bowed down before him, then wrote a line of characters on the paper: "Many thanks to you, young master, for your salvation. Relying on the golden scripture for repentance, I have already escaped the realm of ghosts. Yet, because my sins from the previous life are heavy, I can only carry my karma into rebirth, and must spend three lifetimes as a mute woman."

Chu Youcai smiled faintly: "The Dao follows the natural course. Whether as a ghost or a mute woman, if one's mind remains clear and serene, that is the true joy of life."

Upon reading this, the woman's mind was profoundly shaken. Pondering deeply upon the words "Whether as a ghost or a mute woman, if one's mind remains clear and serene, that is the true joy of life," her gaze burned bright. She bowed once more to Chu Youcai, an indescribable peace settling upon her face.

At that very moment, as Chu Youcai finished writing, a brilliant radiance flashed all around—a sign that this trial, too, had been successfully passed.

Then Chu Youcai found himself returned once again to the Dragon Palace. Scholarly Qi, demonic arts, and Daoist arts burst forth from within him, intertwining and rising between heaven and earth, orbiting above the sun and moon before plunging together back into his body.

It was as though a certain boundary of heaven and earth had been unsealed by Chu Youcai; he could perceive countless mental barriers shattering around him.

He then looked once more upon the book of archaic inscriptions given by the Dragon King. In an instant, the characters upon the pages sprang forth with crystalline clarity, vividly imprinted before his eyes and fixed forever in his memory.

In less than half a moment, all several thousand characters had been completely memorized.

Closing his eyes to contemplate those archaic characters, he sensed within them the intent of dragons and serpents—far surpassing his own demonic arts. Only then did he truly comprehend the might of an inscription master.

To write such a single character, while perhaps not matching the use of treasured artifacts in curse-crafting, was even more formidable than executing demonic arts.

Having committed every single one of these characters to memory, never to be forgotten, a surge of eager anticipation gripped him to discover what was written upon the golden scriptures.