Chapter 272: The Secret of the Longhu Golden Alchemy Method, Heaven-Earth Titan Form, and the Woman Who Lives Alone

The relic was formed when a great monk of Jinguang Temple passed away, condensing the immense power of the Buddhist Dharma within it.

Originally, this was meant to be one of those cryptic “assignments” that Daoist elders gave to their juniors, with the real purpose obscured. But to the old Daoist’s surprise, Li Yanchu’s martial and magical prowess was so overwhelmingly fierce that he ended up saving the elder instead.

Thus, the old Daoist decided to reveal some of the hidden details behind the matter.

It turned out that Jinguang Temple had suffered a major incident. The young abbot, Master Wuse[1], had fallen into inner demons, and had used a great Buddhist supernatural art to imprison himself within a boundary of his own making.

He was the most gifted in Buddhist cultivation that the temple had seen in five hundred years. At only twenty-eight years of age, he had already mastered the three great Buddhist supernatural arts.

He was considered the most likely in this generation to attain Arhatship[2], becoming a Golden-Body Arhat in the present age.

His mishap this time had shaken the entire temple.

And in Donglin Prefecture, evil practitioners were stirring up chaos everywhere, harming the people. The government had mobilized large forces to suppress the bandits and restore order, but they still needed the aid of cultivators from the mystic sects.

With manpower stretched thin, many of Jinguang Temple’s high monks had gone down the mountain to exorcise demons. That was why the temple recalled its relics from all over.

This was one reason. Another was to divert the attention of evil sects and demonic practitioners, even at the cost of using a high monk’s relic, a treasure of immense value, as bait.

The ones escorting the relics were all deeply cultivated members of the mystical sects, tasked not only with protection, but also with slaying enemies. If, during the journey, they could kill those evil practitioners coveting Buddhist treasures, it would be a service to the world.

The old Daoist, after revealing this much, still wished for Li Yanchu to take on the escort task. It would also forge a connection with Jinguang Temple.

With Li Yanchu’s incredibly strong fate, this matter might even bring him great fortune.

And so, Li Yanchu mounted his beloved donkey, Blackie, and clip-clopped his way toward Jinguang Temple.

The relic could not be stored in the Universe Pouch, and carrying a Buddhist treasure infused with the great power of a high monk meant he also couldn’t use his Cloud-Riding Immortal Physique to travel swiftly.

Li Yanchu wasn’t in a rush. The old Daoist had instructed him that if he encountered a truly formidable enemy, he must not throw his life away; he was to surrender the relic to save himself if necessary.

However, this was the man who had single-handedly slain three of the Four Heavenly Kings of the Bare Body Sect.

With such strength, as long as he didn’t meet a third-realm cultivator who had achieved the Yang Spirit Realm, there was little danger.

But nothing in this world was absolute. Strength and weakness weren’t always defined purely by cultivation realm.

There were countless examples of high-level cultivators being killed by those of lower rank through cunning or ambush.

There was even a rural Daoist healer who had mastered the Qi-Sealing Art, making himself impervious to sabers and spears. Yet because of greed, he sought to control the health and fortunes of the powerful to secure his own wealth and comfort...

He was ultimately defeated by a hot-blooded yet shrewd young civil official, who devised a plan to break his Qi-Sealing Art and then drew his sword to sever the man’s head.

That young official was only a sixth-rank officer on the Confucian path, merely at the rudimentary to intermediary stage of the first realm in cultivation.

He knew no profound sword arts. It was purely through his courage as a scholar, coupled with keen and intricate thinking, that he managed to slay that mountain Daoist. Thus, strength has no fixed form; quick wit and calm, decisive action were also keys to victory.

For this reason, the old Daoist gifted Li Yanchu a Mount Longhu token, which could be used to command disciples of Mount Longhu. And within it was contained the Longhu Golden Alchemy Method secret method.

This was Mount Longhu’s most closely guarded secret, a supreme art. It was said that one Golden Alchemy Method could shatter ten thousand techniques, and it followed the path of internal alchemy. When mastered, no magical art could harm its wielder.

In addition, there was another supreme skill of Mount Longhu: Heaven-Earth Titan Form[3].

No one in all of Mount Longhu had ever successfully cultivated this divine ability.

The Methods Section of

Yellow Court Classic

recorded many wondrous Daoist arts, yet these two supreme divine abilities were not included within it.

Even the current headmaster of Mount Longhu had never practiced the Heaven-Earth Titan Form. After all, it was the supreme art of Mount Longhu!

Li Yanchu didn’t particularly want to make the trip, but the old Daoist had given him far too much to refuse.

If I could master both the Longhu Golden Alchemy Method and the Heaven-Earth Titan Form... what a magnificent sight that would be.

Li Yanchu was in high spirits.

It was just a trip to Donglin Prefecture’s Jinguang Temple! So what if there were demons and evil spirits eyeing the way? He was a cultivator, what was there to fear in a fight?

***

Blackie’s pace was swift, and he cared nothing for cold wind or snow. When he ran, he was fast as the wind yet remarkably steady, and the riding experience was simply first-class. For several days in a row, Li Yanchu traveled without feeling the slightest fatigue.

However, in Beifeng Prefecture, the weather could change in an instant. Several days in a row saw endless wind and snow, the cold wind biting to the bone. Along the way, he encountered nearly every sort of wild beast from the deep forests and mountains.

In such freezing weather, Li Yanchu and Blackie seemed like a ready feast in the eyes of these fierce animals.

But unfortunately for them, Li Yanchu was no ordinary Daoist. His martial skill alone was unmatched, not to mention his mastery of profound Daoist arts.

Even the mount beneath him, Blackie, was no ordinary creature.

At first, when Li Yanchu encountered ferocious tigers or vicious wolves blocking his path, he would still take action himself, treating it as a chance to enjoy a bit of fresh game. But later, he discovered that Blackie could kill a striped tiger weighing three or four hundred jin with a single kick. From then on, he couldn’t even be bothered to lift a hand.

“Blackie, go!” This became Li Yanchu’s frequent battle cry.

Blackie would charge forward with a wild, arrogant grin. It was utterly overbearing, and it reminded Li Yanchu of the old fable about the “The Donkey of Guizhou[4].” Never did he expect Blackie to bring such glory to his ancestors.

“Seems like after following Senior Uncle for a few months, Blackie’s spirit has grown even keener.”

Sometimes Li Yanchu would give Blackie a once-over and couldn’t help but voice his praise.

At this time, snowflakes whirled through the air. As Blackie galloped, his hooves landed lightly on tree branches with only the faintest sound, and there was an almost ethereal grace to his movement.

Then, he came to an abrupt halt. In Li Yanchu’s line of sight appeared a thatched farmhouse, surrounded by a fence.

“In this barren mountain, with no village ahead and no inn behind... a farmhouse?”

The corner of his mouth curled in a cold smile. After a moment’s thought, he swung down from Blackie’s back and led him forward. For such a hut to appear in the midst of a snowstorm in the wild mountains, anyone would find it suspicious.

The sky was growing dark, so Li Yanchu didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he planned to find shelter for the night. From outside the fence, he raised his voice and called out.

Creak!

The wooden door was quickly pushed open, and from within appeared a strikingly beautiful face.

This woman was very beautiful, with a delicate, dainty mouth and a pair of bright, glistening eyes, as if they might overflow with water. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and although it was bitterly cold, her clothing was thin, revealing a stretch of pale, tender neck.

The simple blue dress she wore did little to hide her graceful figure.

Her expression at the moment was tinged with curiosity.

“Madam,” Li Yanchu said, “I am a Daoist passing through. Night is falling, and here in these desolate mountains, I hoped you might let me lodge for a night to take shelter from the wind and snow.”

The woman’s luminous eyes roamed over him, and she replied softly, “I live here alone... please, Daoist, come in.”

“Many thanks.”

A beautiful woman living alone in the middle of a desolate mountain... Li Yanchu’s lips curled ever so slightly in a cold, knowing smile.

1. The name Wúsè (无色) literally means “without form/color” or “formless.” In Buddhist thought, “色” (sè) refers not only to physical color but also to form, appearance, or material phenomena, the visible and tangible aspects of existence. To be “无色” is to transcend attachment to form and appearances, pointing toward the emptiness (śūnyatā) and non-duality central to Mahāyāna and Chan philosophy. In my opinion, a Buddhist master taking this name emphasizes detachment from the illusory world of appearances and the realization of the formless, ineffable truth of mind. ☜

2. Luóhàn (罗汉), short for Āluóhàn (Arhat), originally referred to the highest attainment in early (Hīnayāna) Buddhism. According to tradition, a Buddhist practitioner may reach four different levels of realization, each called a “fruit” (果位), somewhat comparable to academic degrees in modern times. The four stages are:

First Fruit (Sotāpanna, 预流果): Upon attaining this stage, one is assured never to fall into the “evil destinies” of rebirth (such as becoming an animal, hungry ghost, or being in hell).

Second Fruit (Sakadāgāmin, 一来果): At this level, one will be reborn only once more within the cycle of existence.

Third Fruit (Anāgāmin, 不还果): At this stage, one will no longer return to the Desire Realm for rebirth, but will transcend to higher heavenly realms.

Fourth Fruit (Arhat, 阿罗汉果): This is the highest fruition, where all defilements have been completely eradicated, perfection of practice is attained, and the practitioner is forever freed from the suffering of samsāra, never to be reborn. One who achieves this fruition is called an Arhat, or simply a Luóhàn (罗汉). ☜

3. “Fǎ Tiān Xiàng Dì” (法天象地, Transforming to Imitate Heaven and Earth) is a powerful magical art described in the classical Chinese mythological novel Journey to the West and its derivative works. It belongs to the category of transformation techniques and first appears in Chapter 3 of the novel.

This art originates from ancient thinkers’ insights into the Dao underlying the operation of heaven and earth, and it embodies Daoist philosophy. When performed, the practitioner’s body grows to a colossal size: their height reaches ten thousand zhang, their head looms as mighty as Mount Tai, their waist stretches like towering mountain ridges, their eyes flash like lightning, their mouth becomes a terrifying blood-red maw, and their teeth shine sharp as swords and halberds. With a blue face, tusks, and crimson hair, the form is ferocious and awe-inspiring.

T/N: I chose to translate 法天象地 as “Heaven-Earth Titan Form.” While the phrase literally means “to take the form of Heaven and Earth,” I felt that a direct rendering might sound too abstract. To capture that sense of colossal, godlike scale for an English-speaking audience, I borrowed the word “Titan,” which immediately evokes mythic giants of immense power. By calling it a “Form,” I also emphasize its nature as a transformation technique. My aim was not only to stay faithful to the cultural roots of the expression but also to give modern readers a translation that resonates with the awe and grandeur of the original scene. ☜

4. “Qián lǘ jì qióng” (黔驴技穷) is a Chinese idiom that originates from The Three Warnings: The Donkey of Guizhou (《三戒·黔之驴》).

The idiom describes a villain or adversary whose abilities are meager and who cannot escape from a difficult situation.

It is said that in ancient times, the region of Qiánzhōngdao had no donkeys. A merchant once brought a donkey there from another place, but since Qiánzhōngdao was mountainous, the donkey was of no practical use. The merchant had no choice but to leave the donkey at the foot of a mountain to graze freely.

One day, a tiger came down from the mountain. Never having seen a donkey before, the tiger was startled at the sight of such a large, unfamiliar creature, and thought it might be some divine being descended from the heavens. Frightened, the tiger quickly hid in the trees and secretly observed the donkey’s movements.

A day passed, and the tiger noticed nothing particularly unusual about the donkey. The next day, the tiger crept cautiously out of the woods, wanting to investigate more closely. But before it got far, the donkey suddenly let out a loud bray. Terrified, the tiger turned and ran. After running some distance and realizing nothing was chasing it, the tiger returned more carefully. Over time, it grew accustomed to the donkey’s voice and grew bolder in approaching it.

The tiger first teased it with its paws, then brushed against it with its body. Angered and humiliated, the donkey kicked at the tiger. The tiger easily dodged the blow and, delighted, thought to itself,

So this creature only has this one trick!

After going hungry for a day and a night, the tiger let out a roar, pounced, killed the donkey with one bite, and enjoyed a full meal before returning up the mountain.

From this fable comes the idiom 黔驴技穷 (qián lǘ jì qióng), literally “the donkey of Guizhou has exhausted its tricks.” It describes someone who has only limited skills; once those are revealed, they are left powerless and unable to escape a difficult situation. Today, it is often used to mock an adversary who, after showing their only move, has nothing left to rely on. ☜