Chapter 2: The Five Animal Exercises

He usually didn’t have to do any heavy labor; his duties were simply to clean the Scripture Pavilion. Most days, he would follow the old Taoist caretaker of the pavilion, learning scriptures and recognizing characters. At first, he had naively imagined that the pavilion would be like the Shaolin Scripture Pavilion, filled with countless martial arts manuals.

But after working there himself, he realized that the so-called Scripture Pavilion was just that—a simple repository of scriptures. Besides Taoist classics, there were a few Buddhist scriptures and quite a number of Confucian texts, among others.

Qiuzhiqing carried the meal in his hand, jogging back to the Scripture Pavilion. From afar, he saw the old Taoist and the immortal Danyangzi standing on the pavilion’s platform, overlooking the Chongyang Palace. Danyangzi appeared to be in his fifties but had white beard and hair. His hands were folded inside his sleeves, a dust whisk wrapped around his wrist and casually draped over his shoulder.

His hair was styled in a Taoist topknot, with a natural wood-colored hairpin inserted horizontally. Standing there with the similarly dressed old Taoist, they looked like two ancient immortals gazing down upon the mortal world.

Seeing Qiuzhiqing standing dazed on the steps not far off, Ma Yu smiled and beckoned him over. Coming to his senses, Qiuzhiqing smiled and hurried up to them in a few quick steps. After greeting them, he handed the lunch to the old Taoist.

Apologetically, he said to Ma Yu, “Master, please wait a moment. I will go get another portion for you!” With that, he turned to run back to the dining hall, but Ma Yu suddenly pulled him back.

Ma Yu caught Qiuzhiqing with his left hand while flicking his dust whisk with the right, sweeping it over Qiuzhiqing’s head and face as if to dispel any bad luck that might cling to him.

Retracting the whisk, Ma Yu smiled warmly. “No rush, no rush! The old Taoist has already eaten. I didn’t come today to test your skills.”

Qiuzhiqing relaxed, thinking, of course, today wasn’t the day for any examination! He wasn’t afraid of Ma Yu’s assessments, but he had yet to memorize some prescriptions.

He felt a twinge of pity seeing the flicker of disappointment in Ma Yu’s eyes, even if it was brief. After all, it was only the fourteenth day of the third month, six days ahead of the scheduled test.

What followed was a swirl of curiosity. Ma Yu rarely came to the Scripture Pavilion; usually, disciples brought any needed texts to his room. Why did he come here today, and why did he seem to be waiting specifically for him?

Perhaps sensing Qiuzhiqing’s puzzlement, Ma Yu did not answer directly. Instead, he casually found a spot to sit cross-legged. Qiuzhiqing understood and quickly fetched the old Taoist’s teapot and cups from inside the pavilion to refill their tea, standing attentively beside them.

The two immortals thus sat comfortably on the empty ground, sipping tea and discussing the Way.

After about half an hour, seeing Qiuzhiqing still standing nearby, the old Taoist chuckled, “Friend, don’t keep Qiuzhiqing’s appetite in suspense. If I don’t eat my lunch soon, it’ll get cold!”

Without waiting for Ma Yu’s reply, he opened the food box and began eating—the ease and freedom of his manner made Qiuzhiqing quite envious. It embodied the true carefree spirit of Taoism.

Seeing the old Taoist's indifferent attitude, Ma Yu finally spoke to Qiuzhiqing, “Do you still want to practice martial arts?”

Afraid Ma Yu might worry, Qiuzhiqing quickly replied, “No more learning, no more! From now on, I’ll follow you and the old Taoist to study medicine and cultivate the Way, to carry on the Quanzhen tradition!”

Ma Yu stroked his beard with satisfaction and smiled, then asked, “Is that true?”

“Absolutely!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

“What if I told you that now you can practice martial arts?”

Qiuzhiqing was surprised. “Didn’t you say, Master, that my cold toxin has invaded my body, depleting my righteous qi, and I’m infected by the wasting worm? I can’t train like the other disciples to strengthen my body.”

He knew something about his illness, having studied medicine for over a year. In this era, it was called pulmonary consumption, later known as tuberculosis. It was nearly incurable then—survival itself a blessing. Without the miraculous inner strength and qi, the grim reaper would have claimed him long ago.

“The Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon says, ‘When qi and blood are abundant, no disease arises.’ Sometimes, I wonder—if that’s true, then conversely, when qi and blood are abundant, perhaps all diseases can be cured. Your illness is in the lungs, but the sect’s heart method is a mixture of nurturing and training. Though it has some effect, it’s not very obvious. Therefore, I asked Brother Qiu to retrieve a method that strengthens the muscles and bones outwardly and the five viscera inwardly…”

With that, Ma Yu took a small booklet from the sleeve of his robe and handed it to Qiuzhiqing.

Qiuzhiqing was puzzled. He knew the heart method was a mix of nurturing and training—“nurturing” meant health preservation, and “training” referred to refining essence into qi. But how did this relate to him? He couldn’t cultivate…

Suppressing his doubts, he respectfully accepted the booklet. Upon seeing the cover, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Five Animal Qigong?”

He certainly knew of Five Animal Qigong, but never expected Ma Yu to give it to him.

His surprise was brief. He quickly realized that modern teachings had confused him. This was clearly a secret transmission. Ma Yu’s casual manner belied the likely difficulty and connections required to obtain this treasured family method. Gratitude swelled in his heart.

Even the old Taoist, who was happily devouring his meal nearby, was surprised and interjected, “Five Animal Qigong? Didn’t those worthless scoundrels use it to curry favor with Emperor Huizong?” After a moment, he added, “This method is legitimate, right? Those fellows aren’t that generous!”

The old Taoist assumed Ma Yu had gotten the method from another Taoist lineage. It wasn’t a concern about counterfeit works—everyone cared about their reputation—but different interpretations of Taoist terminology could cause chaos when practiced.

Ma Yu understood the old Taoist’s worries and smiled confidently: “Brother Taoist, rest assured. Brother Qiu had this copied from the Wanshou Daozang. It may be simplified, but no one dares to submit fakes there! I have already verified it; it is indeed suitable for cultivation and has no issues.”

Qiuzhiqing overheard every word and memorized it carefully. The Wanshou Daozang was a household name in the martial world. The famous Nine Yin Manual was created by Huang Shang, editor-in-chief of the Wanshou Daozang. Editing was indeed a promising career.

He bowed respectfully to Ma Yu, his resolve to live up to his name strengthened.

Observing Qiuzhiqing’s movements and breathing pattern, Ma Yu was deeply pleased with his progress in cultivating the Quanzhen Heart Method.

Given Qiuzhiqing’s special condition, Ma Yu did not simply hand over the heart method’s incantations to practice alone. Instead, he used his inner strength to guide Qiuzhiqing’s breathing and circulation, teaching him that maintaining this breathing pattern could effectively suppress his symptoms. This was also why he had such a good appetite—he was still growing.

With the mission accomplished and Qiuzhiqing’s progress satisfactory, Ma Yu declared the visit a success. “I have given you the method. If you have any questions later, you can ask Immortal Chen. He is a high Taoist master—you should learn from him often.”

He glanced meaningfully at the old Taoist, who was still enjoying his meal, which smelled delicious enough to fool the uninitiated into thinking it was some rare delicacy. Qiuzhiqing knew it was just ordinary millet with greens.

Immortal Chen finished eating quickly. Qiuzhiqing, having stayed with him nearly a year, learned the old Taoist’s surname was Chen. Chen wiped his mouth, flicked his sleeves, and neatly packed away the bowls and chopsticks. Qiuzhiqing admired the deftness of the gesture, but Ma Yu showed no particular reaction.

After tidying up, Chen began to respond to Ma Yu’s request, first declining. “I’ve been quite comfortable here at Chongyang Palace these past few years. I wouldn’t mind mentoring a young monkey like him…”

Qiuzhiqing thought a “but” was coming—and indeed, the turning point arrived.

“However, you should know, friend, I am now eighty-seven and fear my days are numbered. I had planned to tell you this matter later, but something touched me today, and with your timely visit, it saves me an extra trip.”

Ma Yu felt a foreboding and asked, “What do you mean, brother?”

Chen, perhaps sensing Ma Yu’s concern, removed the hairpin, scratched his scalp, then tied a Taoist topknot again. He extended his hand, and a single white hair lay in his palm.

“Yesterday, I entered meditation and foresaw that my life will end around one hundred years. Inevitably, I feel some sadness. After decades of cultivation, I have neither managed to flourish Louguan Tao nor ensured its legacy continues beyond me…”

With that, he flicked his hand, and the silver hair drifted away on the breeze…