Staff Daoist Lesser Yaoguais
Description
Long ago, a mountain village sat on a ridge teeming with insects. Strange things kept happening, so the villagers all moved out, leaving it a deserted village. In the village below lived a young man. His mother had died, and his father was a poor wastrel who paid him no mind. The villagers looked down on him and often abused him. He felt he couldn’t endure such disdain, so he fled to live in the abandoned village. Little did he know that the village was claimed by a swarm of insect guais.
As soon as the young man reached the ridge, the yaoguais seized him. He didn’t fight back, as a deep-rooted death wish, stemming from a life without attachments, had long infested his heart. Seeing his resignation, the insects didn’t harm him. Instead, they provided him shelter in a dilapidated shack.
That night, a middle-aged Daoist brought him food and clothing. “I heard you have nowhere to go, so I brought you some things for daily use. If you don’t mind, take me as your master and stay here. I can teach you practices for ascension.” The youth hadn’t been cared for in so long. He eagerly donned the Daoist robe and performed the rites to acknowledge his master. From then on, he lived and trained with the insect guais. They spent their days dining and walking together, and at night, they slept side by side.
One day, a scholar barged into the young man’s room. “I’ve just escaped from the yaoguais’ lair. They had trapped me in a cocoon sack, and I’m unsure of their intentions. I’m fleeing this place. You’re human, you should come with me.” The young man shook his head. “I’m content here. Why should I leave?” The scholar grew angry, “Because they’re yaoguais and you’re human! Even if they don’t harm you, staying with them long enough will turn you into a yaoguai as well!”
“You’re right,” the young man said as he grabbed his staff and knocked the scholar to the ground. “But even if I turn into a yaoguai, I’ll do so gladly.” The scholar deemed that the young man was past saving. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he crawled out the door and fled alone.
Poetry
Fairy mountains, clouds and waters are connected to the horizon, and home is nowhere to be seen.
Holding a stick, I walk far into the dangerous nest and enjoy the white snow and yellow buds.
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