Chapter 254: Corpse Driving Artisan

By the time I stepped out of the taxi, I was already in the city outskirts. Abandoned farmland stretched down both sides of the road, broken only by the occasional sight of a half-finished, abandoned building.

Jiangcheng's initial plans for expanding the new district had included this area. However, construction had ground to a halt for various reasons, leaving the land looking utterly desolate and devoid of human life.

Recalling the scene of the dead passengers getting off the bus, I walked along the road until I found the spot.

It was a bus stop with no signpost. The ground was entirely paved with white bricks, though I had no idea what significance that held.

"During the livestream of the bus line 14 hearse, this was where Daoist Priest Xianqing led the dead passengers off." Although it had been pitch dark that night, I could still recognize some of the surrounding landscape.

Following the direction I remembered the dead taking, I ventured into the wilderness.

Weeds grew wild all around, making the path difficult to traverse. However, I noticed something rather strange: the terrain gradually dipped, forming a gentle decline.

Once I reached the lowest point, two or three dirt paths appeared before me. These winding trails were quite interesting; they were covered in a layer of fine sand, sprinkled with white granules that looked like salt.

"Is there some specific significance to this?" The paths led in different directions, stretching out of sight. I picked one at random and walked deeper into the wasteland.

"What a desolate, treacherous piece of land."

There wasn't a single household nearby. Instead, numerous solitary graves were scattered about. None had tombstones, leaving it a mystery as to who was buried inside.

The grave mounds only grew denser. Even in broad daylight, the sight sent a chill down my spine, as if something were following right behind me.

After I walked forward for over a hundred meters, the terrain abruptly rose, and a small hill appeared before me.

Normally, a hill would stand out starkly on a plain, but the surrounding terrain here was high on the outside and low on the inside, perfectly concealing it. Because of this, it wasn't very noticeable when viewed from the main road.

"Hidden Universe Inside."

I circled the hill and finally found Qingtu Temple.

This modestly sized Daoist temple was hidden right on the backside of the hill. It had two doors opening to the east and west—one welcoming the yang of the sun, and the other absorbing the yin.

"That took some finding." The temple's overall architecture had an antique charm. Though old and weathered, it entirely lacked the impetuous feel of modern buildings, looking exactly like a secluded place for spiritual cultivation.

"Is anyone here?"

Both of the temple doors were wide open. I stood at the entrance and peered inside.

With Qian to the south and Kun to the north, the layout was aligned along the meridian line, sitting in the north and facing south. The main hall, dedicated to the supreme Daoist deities, sat squarely on the central axis. On either side, side halls were arranged to worship various other gods, following the principles of the sun in the east and the moon in the west, and the symmetry of Kan and Li.

Though small as a sparrow, it had all its vital organs. Qingtu Temple possessed a total of four wing rooms across the east and west. The West Wing Room was heavily draped in black cloth, blocking out all light, whereas the eastern rooms were bright and airy. The eastern doors were plastered with advertisements offering low prices for homemade Daoist incense, health supplements, Daoist medicinal liquors, and other specialty items.

When no one answered for a long time, I knocked twice on the wooden door and stepped inside.

The courtyard wasn't large. Combined with all the side rooms and halls, the entire area was probably no more than a hundred square meters.

However, walking through it didn't feel cramped at all; instead, it brought a natural sense of peace to the mind.

Heading straight to the back, the innermost building was the Hall of the Three Pure Ones. Beside the statues of the three supreme deities—Yuqing, Shangqing, and Taiqing—stood a wooden tablet, which seemed to be dedicated to yet another deity.

"The Three Pure Ones are the highest deities in Daoism. Who could possibly stand alongside them?" Just as I was about to go over and get a clearer look at the writing on the tablet, a young Daoist priest dressed in coarse linen stepped out of the east wing room.

"Destined Patron, this hall is the dwelling place of the deities. Please do not offend them."

The young Daoist had an ugly face. His hair was tied up in a coiled topknot, and he wore no ceremonial crown. His coarse linen robe had been washed until it was faded white.

"My apologies, I was just a little curious." I sized him up. Having practiced the Profound Truth Mental Method, I had a rough understanding of the ranks within orthodox Daoism. When first entering a temple, a practitioner was called a Daoist acolyte. A Daoist acolyte had to perform hard labor and undergo ascetic training within the temple to cultivate merit. Only after receiving the ceremonial hat and formally acknowledging a master could they become a full-fledged Daoist priest.

And that was barely considered the entry-level. Beyond that, depending on the temple's size, one's mastery of Daoist arts, and their official duties, there were many further divisions. For example, there were titles found in the countryside like Mister, True Person, and Celestial Master, or administrative classifications like High Perfected, High Scholar, and Great Virtue.

But that applied to orthodox temples like Miaozhen temple. As for the hundred-square-meter Qingtu Temple, it would be a miracle if the master and disciples totaled more than three people, so naturally, they weren't bound by so many rigid rules.

"I'm looking for Daoist Priest Xianqing. If he's here, could you pass on a message?" I asked politely. In reality, given the tiny size of this place, asking him to pass on a message was just a courtesy.

"My master is currently cultivating. Destined Patron, please wait in the east wing."

Before the young Daoist could even finish speaking, the door to the West Wing Room was pushed open. Daoist Priest Xianqing, clad in a deep green Daoist robe, walked out holding two Yin Gongs—one large and one small.

"Yun Chuan, how many times have I told you? If someone comes visiting, you must call me Dao Zheng." Daoist Priest Xianqing put away the Yin Gongs and was visibly startled to see me. "A rare guest! Yun Chuan, hurry and brew some tea."

No matter how I looked at it, his expression didn't seem welcoming. He hurried into the main hall, first offering a stick of incense to the Three Pure Ones, before finally inviting me into the east wing room.

"May I ask what brings the Destined Patron to our doors today?" Daoist Priest Xianqing seamlessly swept the brochures for his health training class, Tai Chi instructional charts, discount Daoist amulets, and flyers for hosting blessing rituals into a drawer, striving to maintain the image of a transcendent expert. "These are merely amateur interests, acts of merit to benefit the local people."

"Mhm, I understand." I pursed my lips tightly to hold back a laugh. This Daoist Priest Xianqing was cut from the same cloth as Blind Liu. One spent all day getting chased around by city management, while the other hid among a bunch of graves to run training classes.

"Sigh, just laugh if you want to. Times have indeed been tough lately." Seeing how hard I was struggling to hold it in, Daoist Priest Xianqing just gave up, no longer caring about his image as an enlightened master. "It isn't just our Corpse Driving Lineage. A lot of ancient traditions have declined. I'm one of the lucky ones; I managed to take in Yun Chuan as a disciple so my legacy can be passed on. Some temples don't see a single visitor year-round, and their lineages have already completely died out."

Daoist Priest Xianqing's topic was rather heavy, and I wasn't quite sure how to respond. "Priest, I've seen your corpse driving with my own eyes. With skills like that, why worry about not making money?"

"How am I supposed to make money?" Daoist Priest Xianqing tossed a whole drawer's worth of unissued flyers onto the table. "In the past, corpse driving was profitable because South China and the Jianghuai region were covered in dense networks of waterways. Boatmen refused to let the dead on their boats, so ordinary families had no choice but to hire us for corpse driving. Now, with trains and steamships running everywhere, who still needs us?"

"But didn't I see you corpse driving just the other night?"

"Those were just drifters who died far from home. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving them, so I guided their souls back to their homelands." Daoist Priest Xianqing removed the Soul-Capturing Bell from his waist, along with his Yin Gongs, and began carefully wiping them clean. "But then again, it's a good thing that nobody needs corpse driving anymore. At the very least, it proves there's far less injustice in the world. This is good. This is good."

"Dao Zheng, the tea is here." The young Daoist priest brought in two cups of tea, then turned and left.

"Daoist Priest Xianqing, what does this title 'Dao Zheng' mean? Why do you insist he call you that?"

My question made Daoist Priest Xianqing look embarrassed again. "Dao Zheng just means Temple Master. Even though it's only the two of us in Qingtu Temple, propriety must be maintained."

He waved his hand. "Since you'd never visit the Hall of Three Treasures for nothing, stop beating around the bush. Tell me, what did you come looking for me for?"

I told Daoist Priest Xianqing everything about the Scruffy Daoist and Bai Qi, and fully laid out all my own speculations as well.

After hearing me out, Daoist Priest Xianqing knit his brows in deep thought. "I do indeed know the man you're looking for, but given his style of doing things, he would never stoop to something like theft."

"Why not?"

When Daoist Priest Xianqing mentioned the Scruffy Daoist, a look of utter helplessness appeared on his face. "He's over sixty years old, and his mastery of Daoist arts is unfathomably profound. But his personality is completely unrestrained. He spends his days lost in a drunken stupor, living a life where he's drunk today on today's wine, harboring no desire for the mortal world, nor any longing to become an immortal. How could a person like that steal your things?"

After listening to Daoist Priest Xianqing's words, I also felt that my train of thought might have been flawed. However, out of an abundance of caution, I still asked one more question, "What exactly is your relationship with that Daoist?"

"You couldn't really say we have a relationship. A few weeks ago, he offered me five hundred thousand to help him drive a special corpse."