Chapter 2: Celestial Master—But Can Heaven Have a Teacher?

My dear, this is no matter for jest!

When Zhang Yuchu heard Zhang Yi finally utter those words, his once rosy face instantly drained of all color from fright.

Though merely an eight- or nine-year-old child, he understood, as did everyone on Mount Dragon and Tiger, the immense importance of the audience with the emperor in the capital.

The lineage of the Celestial Master Zhang, passed down since the Han dynasty from Patriarch Zhang Daoling, had, especially since the founding of the Great Yuan, seen the title of Celestial Master officially recognized by the authorities, bringing the Zhang family to unprecedented heights.

Now, with a new dynasty established, seeking a rightful imperial investiture from the new emperor was of utmost importance to the Zhang family.

Before having met the emperor, Zhang Zhengchang himself was deeply anxious. This anxiety had set the entire household on edge, their nerves taut with fear that something might go awry.

Yet Zhang Yi, this rebellious son, had the audacity to curse Zhang Zhengchang to return in disgrace right to his face.

Looking at his father, Zhang Yuchu saw that at this moment, all the bearing of the Celestial Master heir had vanished. His father's hand, trembling as it pointed at Zhang Yi, seemed unable to organize words for a proper scolding.

At last, Old Zhang managed to catch his breath and roared,

"Bring the family rod! Today I, a humble Daoist, will beat this little fiend to death!"

With that, he lunged forward, reaching to grab Zhang Yi by the hair. Zhang Yi, instantly alert, sprang up and dashed away.

"Seize that little wretch! Today I will beat you to death!"

Zhang Zhengchang, too furious to formally request the family rod, snatched a peachwood sword from a nearby disciple and chased after Zhang Yi.

"Father, my younger brother is just a child—please don’t take his words to heart!"

"Master, that’s your son!"

Old Zhang was so enraged by Zhang Yi’s words that the impulse to strike him dead was plain to see. The family rushed to restrain him.

Zhang Yuchu clung tightly to his father’s leg, pleading for mercy.

"You little fiend, nothing good has come of you since the day you were born!"

"You infuriate me every time. Today I, Zhang Zhengchang, will sacrifice justice for the greater good!"

"How could my Celestial Master’s house produce such a jinx!"

Though Zhang Zhengchang’s words were fierce, he stopped himself in the end, merely brandishing the peachwood sword and pointing it at Zhang Yi from afar.

Though small, Zhang Yi was not afraid. He retorted,

"If I am a jinx, then subdue me! Otherwise, people will say the Celestial Master’s house is full of useless drunkards—pretty on the outside, empty within!"

Old Zhang, smoke nearly billowing from his ears, lunged again.

Zhang Yi continued, "Besides, you’re anxious yourself, aren’t you? Why else would my words bother you so much? Do you think that emperor at the foot of the mountain is a good man? He doesn’t acknowledge our Celestial Master’s sacred seal. Celestial Master? What master is there over Heaven?"

These words struck a hidden chord in Zhang Zhengchang, who barked,

"Where did you learn such nonsense? How dare you speak so wantonly of His Majesty!"

Zhang Yi fired back,

"Naturally, I learned it in a dream. Ancestor Zhang Daoling told me so. He said our Celestial Master’s line, after forty-two generations, is about to lose its title!"

"Nonsense! Dreaming of the patriarch, indeed!" Old Zhang, seeing Zhang Yi invoke even their forebear, grew even more incensed.

"Go ahead, beat me! Ever since the omen at my birth, you’ve never seen me as your son. If you beat me to death today, someday you’ll kneel at my grave and beg forgiveness!"

Zhang Yi’s stubborn defiance turned Zhang Zhengchang’s burning anger into helplessness.

He understood the source of his son’s resentment—the label of ‘jinx’. When Zhang Yi was born, ominous clouds shrouded Mount Dragon and Tiger for a hundred li, and that year, the Zhang family suffered many misfortunes.

As Celestial Master, Zhang Zhengchang cast a divination for Zhang Yi and left him with the name of ‘jinx’. Trusting in the family’s arts, he kept the boy at arm’s length and even named him ‘Yi’ for his fateful anomaly. Though his own son by blood, he was not entered into the family register.

Everyone on the mountain was a cultivator, but Zhang Zhengchang’s supposed efforts to dispel the curse only served to isolate Zhang Yi throughout his childhood. In the end, though he recognized his failing, he never made amends.

Still, whatever his grievances, Zhang Yi was his son. Old Zhang’s rage finally ebbed to a sigh.

"You’re just a yellow-mouthed child—what do you know?"

"I have been friends with Emperor Hongwu for many years. Back when His Majesty was still Prince of Wu, he visited Mount Dragon and Tiger, praising our house extravagantly!"

"I have heard that the Celestial Master of Han was upright and moral, familiar with spirits and ghosts, able to move heaven and earth with a single breath. Even the deities of thunder obeyed his command…"

Reciting from Zhu Yuanzhang’s old letters, Zhang Zhengchang’s eyes shone with pride.

Despite his worries about whether the new emperor would preserve the Zhang family’s honor, he felt mostly confident. After all, he had long known the current Son of Heaven, Zhu Yuanzhang.

Back when he was still the Prince of Wu, Zhu Yuanzhang visited Mount Dragon and Tiger and lavished praise upon the Zhang family.

Zhang Zhengchang had once even written "Mandate of Heaven" for Zhu Yuanzhang, who was so overjoyed he spread the word far and wide.

Later, when plague struck Zhu Yuanzhang’s territory, the entire Zhang family mobilized, drawing talismans to heal the sick and calm the populace.

Zhang Zhengchang was certain that, with such a relationship, he could not possibly return empty-handed.

Yet Zhang Yi, hearing all this, only sneered. Zhang Zhengchang, he thought, understood that emperor far too little.

Even if he wanted to warn his father, the old man would not listen, so he kept silent.

But Zhang Zhengchang, seeing his son’s defiant expression, was provoked again.

"You say you won’t go to the capital? Then today I’ll make sure you go! If you are right about the new emperor, I’ll leave you be from now on, free to do as you please! But if you are wrong, you’ll return to the mountain and copy the patriarch’s scriptures ten thousand times. If you do well, I’ll even change your name!"

Before Zhang Yi could answer, Zhang Yuchu jumped up with delight.

"Brother, quickly agree to Father’s terms!"

Change his name? Remove the name ‘Yi’ and finally enter him into the family register?

Zhang Yi’s expression turned complex, yet he gave a crooked smile and nodded in assent.

Old Zhang, seeing his son yield, snorted coldly.

"Get your things—come with me. I’ll remember your misdeeds for today!"

Despite this brief disturbance, the audience with the emperor could not be delayed. Zhang Zhengchang understood well that incense must be the first lit; if some country priest seized the opportunity, it would be an ill omen.

With disciples and sons in tow, the Celestial Master’s household descended the mountain.

Zhang Yi turned back, gazing wistfully at the mist-shrouded peaks of Mount Dragon and Tiger.

"What do you think of the Zhang family’s achievements these past years?"

Zhang Zhengchang, seeing his son’s lingering glance, showed a hint of surprise.

"Since the last dynasty, the Zhangs have held the official title of Celestial Master. For nearly a century, under the stewardship of our ancestors, we have regained much of the glory of Patriarchs Zhang Daoling and Zhang Lu."

It was rare for this rebellious son to praise the present state of Mount Dragon and Tiger, and Zhang Zhengchang could not help but feel inexplicably pleased.

As Zhang Yi said, the Zhang family might not be at its historical zenith, but it was certainly among the best. To have maintained the family’s legacy through such troubled times was a source of great pride for Zhang Zhengchang.

Especially since Zhang Yi usually showed little respect for the Celestial Master’s line, this rare praise was all the more precious.

But in his moment of pride, Zhang Zhengchang was once again mistaken about his son. For Zhang Yi then said,

"Father, have you ever heard that when something reaches its peak, it must decline?"

Old Zhang’s hand instantly itched again. Where was his peachwood sword?