[To Become a River of Stars] Dong Xiange - Chapter 2

More than ten disciples from the Zhenyi Sect, along with the Deputy Director of the Imperial Astrological Observatory, journeyed day and night toward the north. Fortunately, Daoist disciples were accustomed to rigorous training and often accompanied their masters going down the mountains to subdue demons and evil spirits, so no one complained of hardship.

The exception was the Deputy Director. Back in Chang’an, he lived just two wards away from his office—close enough to walk if not for putting on official airs. Yet his belly was as round as a ball, and he panted after just a few steps. Clearly, he was used to a life of comfort and riding in carriages. It was puzzling why the Emperor had chosen him for this task.

After more than ten days of arduous travel, the group camped in the mountains. When selecting a site for the tents, the youngest among them, Wang Jie, just thirteen years old and on his first proper demon-hunting mission, was exhausted and somewhat disoriented. Standing by the mountain stream where they fetched water, he couldn’t help but ask, “Can’t we camp here tonight? This spot seems perfect.”

No sooner had he spoken than the Deputy Director snorted with disdain and rebuked, “Fool! Either you’re a fraud among the capable, or the sect’s reputation is overstated.”

Wang Jie had not complained once during all these days of hardship, but now, scolded so harshly, his eyes reddened. He lowered his head, wanting to defend himself but not daring, his spine slumping. The other disciples around him also looked displeased.

Just as Wang Jie’s shoulders drooped, a hand rested on his back, straightening him up. Shiliu knew without looking that it was her righteous and compassionate senior brother, He Chong.

She felt relieved. Senior Brother He was skilled at rhetoric—even when stealing her meat buns, he could argue so righteously that it seemed there was no greater crime in the world than denying him the meticulously pleated buns she had made, leaving her no choice but to hand them over.

If even Shiliu, who had grown up with him, couldn’t resist his words, how could the pot-bellied Deputy Director hope to?

Pigs can’t argue with people—they’re only fit to be made into meat buns.

Sure enough, Senior Brother He immediately employed a strategy.

“The Deputy Director is wise and naturally understands that camping must avoid mountain passes, river valleys, and concave banks. Wang Jie is young and on his first mission. We apologize for the amusement he caused you. Wang Jie, thank the Deputy Director for his guidance.”

First, courtesy.

Then, before Wang Jie could finish bowing, He Chong stopped him and continued.

“However, our sect emphasizes accumulating virtue through action. Disciples must not only understand principles but also practice them personally—subduing demons and protecting the people. Every disciple is tempered this way. Though not all may serve in the court, they indeed uphold the Daoist precepts of loyalty, filial piety, sincerity, and virtue while dwelling among the common people.”

“Surely it is because His Majesty always keeps the people in his heart that he recognized our sect’s uprightness and honored our Grand Master with the title of State Preceptor.”

Then, the counterattack.

Shiliu inwardly marveled. At first sight, she had wondered if the Imperial Astrological Observatory had exceptionally good food—meant to make them heavier so they wouldn’t be blown away by the wind during nighttime stargazing. She had even secretly envied them.

But the Deputy Director, though broad-minded in body, was petty in spirit, speaking with sarcasm and spite. Likely, it was because the Zhenyi Sect, with its deep roots among the people, had been implicitly elevated above the Observatory since the Emperor favored Daoism and appointed the sect as the State Religion. The Observatory, now neglected by the Emperor, could neither bring itself to curry favor nor suppress the sect openly, so it vented frustration in minor ways.

Yet her senior brother was a master of elegant words, seamlessly linking the disciples’ training to the Emperor’s care for the people. If the Deputy Director insisted on slapping faces, he would be slapping more than just the Zhenyi Sect’s.

Sure enough, the Deputy Director fell silent, his face turning as red as the sausages that Shiliu secretly dried by the back kitchen door. His mouth tightened like the tied end of a sausage, and he snorted before storming off in a huff.

Ah, if only my sausages were as plump as the Deputy Director’s belly, Shiliu thought wistfully.

She loved fatty meat, but the pigs on the mountain were lean and underfed. In her rush to leave, she had forgotten to bring in the hanging sausages. She wondered if they would be pecked away by birds or confiscated by other senior brothers before she returned.

Though the situation was resolved, Wang Jie clearly felt guilty for causing trouble and humiliating himself in front of everyone. After dealing with the Deputy Director, He Chong turned to discipline him.

Surveying geomancy was a basic skill, and such a mistake should not have been made. Senior Brother ordered Wang Jie to fetch water for everyone that day and copy the Qing Nang Jing and Tian Yu Jing in full.

Wang Jie trudged off, his lanky frame wobbling as he carried a large bucket of water to Shiliu. Everyone had brought dry rations, and Shiliu was responsible for making hot soup to go with them.

She ignored Wang Jie’s drooping head and focused on building the fire. When the flames roared and needed more fuel, she looked up to find the boy still standing by the wall, lost in remorse.

Shiliu usually avoided meddling—she had always hidden under the protection of her master and senior brothers and never needed to intervene in such matters. But with no one else around, and the kid standing there with a look of utter despair, it was… ruining her appetite.

Comparing his attitude to her own when she admitted mistakes, Shiliu felt Wang Jie had already shown sufficient remorse. She pulled something from her robe and tossed it over.

Startled by the flying object, Wang Jie caught it reflexively and found a small cloth bundle. Inside were golden walnut cookies.

He was still a child, rarely tasting rich snacks, and the aroma of the cookies made his mouth water. Even his guilt-stricken mind ground to a halt.

“Go copy your texts. Don’t stand in the way here,” Shiliu said expressionlessly, tending to the fire.

Wang Jie carefully wrapped the cookies and walked away, his steps unconsciously lighter.

Once he was some distance away, he couldn’t resist taking out a cookie to eat.

So delicious! Incredibly delicious!

His appetite awakened, he devoured several more before glancing back at Shiliu, now far away.

Everyone said Senior Brother Shiliu was aloof and reserved. The sect elders praised him for possessing his master’s youthful ethereal grace, like an immortal exiled to earth—deeply mysterious and never speaking frivolously. From what Wang Jie had seen, he indeed seemed profound and inscrutable.

But then… why would someone like He Chong carry such delicious walnut cookies?

That night, Wang Jie copied texts, crumbs falling from his mouth, pondering this question.