In the contests of technique that had existed since ancient times, there were hundreds upon thousands of elaborate methods. Reverend Jiye’s intent was also to give everyone a spectacle to watch, while at the same time testing Rong Chen Zi’s abilities. He tapped his meditation staff lightly against the ground — the force was extremely gentle, yet everyone in the rear garden felt the ground tremble, as though a boulder weighing a thousand catties had been dropped upon it.

A moment later, within a sea of golden Buddhist radiance, twelve monks who all looked exactly like Reverend Jiye appeared — each one fingering Buddhist beads and softly chanting sutras, their sacred countenance solemn and dignified. Whether observed from near or far, not the slightest difference could be discerned between any of them.

No one present had ever witnessed such a feat of spiritual power before. All let out sounds of amazement and admiration, understanding that this was a challenge for Zhiguan Rong to identify the true form from among them.

Most of those at the banquet had their eyes fixed on the spectacle, and Ye Tian was particularly tense, not daring to blink. But that great He Bang was still buried in her eating. Elder Liu kept ordering servants to bring her more dishes, attending to her with exceptional solicitude: “May this old man ask the young lady’s surname and where her honored homeland might be?”

He Bang glanced at him and said nothing. Elder Liu’s face was long since impervious to such treatment and he felt no embarrassment. The things that concerned the dozen or so of Elder Liu’s concubines, however, were quite different. The Ninth Concubine of Elder Liu’s household came over to offer He Bang a cup of tea. He Bang didn’t drink tea, so she substituted half a cup of rose drink for it.

The Ninth Concubine leaned in close to whisper with He Bang: “Are you truly Reverend Rong’s… cultivation vessel?”

The great He Bang stuffed an apricot blossom cake into her mouth: “Could there be any doubt?”

The Ninth Concubine pressed her lips together in a smile, her cheeks faintly flushed: “I have heard that those who cultivate the Dao… in that regard are especially skilled — is it really true?”

She had been wed to Elder Liu at thirteen years old, when Elder Liu was already nearly fifty — so naturally she harbored a certain curiosity toward vigorous men. The great He Bang didn’t understand, and tilted her head: “Which regard? He’s quite skilled in a great many areas.”

The Ninth Concubine was hoping to coax out some secrets of dual cultivation. These past two years she had gradually gained a bit of age and was no longer as favored as the newer concubines. Looking at this He Bang with her fine, tender skin and fingers like green onion shoots, she felt that dual cultivation was truly a wonderful method indeed, and grew increasingly eager to glimpse a detail or two. And so she tried to fish for information: “You… how old are you this year? You look quite young.”

This question was too profound. He Bang thought carefully for a while: “I’ve forgotten. But I’m not young at all.”

Hearing this, the Ninth Concubine’s eyes lit up with even greater excitement — youth was a woman’s pride and capital; if this He Bang were a maiden in the bloom of youth, why would she not say so? If she wouldn’t say, she must certainly be of some age.

She immediately discreetly removed the tourmaline bracelet from her wrist to cast a stone to test the waters: “Could you…”

She rubbed her hands together, still deliberating on how to phrase her question delicately, when the other concubines were not about to fall behind. A love of beauty resides in all hearts. What’s more, if the Ninth Concubine were to obtain the secret method, wouldn’t everyone else have to live with their tails between their legs afterward?

And so a crowd of concubines surged forward at once, surrounding the great He Bang and ushering her to their table, where they insisted she take the seat of honor. The Sixteenth Concubine, who was currently in favor, set aside her airs and beamed at He Bang with an exceedingly ingratiate smile: “Little Elder Sister, in bed, can Zhiguan Rong… last a very long time?”

He Bang answered without a moment’s hesitation: “That’s one of his strong suits, isn’t it? He gets into bed every single night and just sits there — takes no less than one or two hours to be done! Sits there the whole time while doing hand seals, which is quite annoying.”

At these words, all the concubines’ mouths watered in unison. One — one — one to two hours… The way they looked at Rong Chen Zi was immediately transformed! Even the most dignified Second Madam could not help but half-cover her face and interject: “Then you alone… can manage?”

He Bang looked her up and down with an expression that said “you simpleton”: “What’s there to manage — he sits doing his thing and I sleep doing mine!”

Everyone wore expressions of “you have a blessing you don’t know how to enjoy.” Third Madam could hold herself back no longer: “That thing of his… must be quite large…”

Having said that, she immediately covered her face with her sleeve. He Bang stuffed a plum blossom spiced cake into her mouth: “What thing?” This creature fancied herself clever. “Oh, you mean that long thing, the one with the hair growing out of it!” She pointed at Rong Chen Zi — at the horsetail whisk in his hand — and was still indignant: “It’s not that big! But it is quite hard! Last time I only tore one of his books and he beat me with that thing!” She gestured dramatically this way and that. “My shell is this thick, and it nearly cracked!”

Gazes shifted once again toward the slender and upright figure of Rong Chen Zi, standing beneath a cluster of tricolored hibiscus. He was impeccably dressed, his manner solemn and composed, his every word and action proper, warm, and principled. The eyes of all the women present were practically popping out of their heads, and their drool had dripped onto the grass — even the shell can nearly be cracked — then that, that, that thing, just how hard must it be…

From that day forward, none of the women in the Liu household called him Zhiguan anymore, nor Zhenren. In private, everyone called him Two Hours. Within no time at all, the tale of “Two Hours” spread among the inner household of the Liu Mansion with word-of-mouth enthusiasm. Whenever Zhiguan Rong caught sight of their gazes, he felt an inexplicable chill running down his spine…

Over in the main spectacle, Reverend Jiye and Rong Chen Zi were still engaged in their contest. In the field, a sea of golden Buddhist radiance flowed like water, and twelve Jiye figures stood like twelve Buddhas. Rong Chen Zi intoned a phrase of boundless veneration, and without attempting to distinguish the true form from the false, he simply plucked a pink hibiscus flower in his hand, a smile on his face: “Reverend Jiye’s Buddhist arts are boundless — this poor Daoist has learned much.”

He then carried the flower back to his seat. Everyone was puzzled as to his intention, and just as they were murmuring in confusion, the hibiscus flower in his hand spoke: “Zhiguan’s enlightened eye sees all. This monk concedes.”

Rong Chen Zi smiled with quiet lightness, and placed the hibiscus flower on the table. After a moment, a wisp of green smoke arose — and the flower transformed into human form, which was none other than Reverend Jiye in his kasaya. The great monk had demonstrated this feat, and though Rong Chen Zi had seen through it, the Liu family were all mortal eyes of flesh and blood — when had they ever witnessed such wondrous techniques? They immediately broke into applause.

After Jiye returned to the ground, he was considerably more respectful toward Rong Chen Zi: “Now it is Zhiguan’s turn to set the test.”

Rong Chen Zi returned the courtesy: “The Reverend has already mastered the art of transformation. Minor techniques like fetching objects from across a distance and the Five Ghosts transporting wealth are surely mere child’s play.”

He walked unhurriedly to the table, took the cup of clear tea from in front of He Bang, and scattered it upward toward the sky — without any visible act of sorcery.

Yet a moment later, a rain of tea fell over the whole garden, its fragrance clear and refined, permeating to the very depths of one’s being. Just as everyone was marveling at the wonder of it, they saw a fiery red lotus bloom in the pond — its petals growing in layers, golden light flowing across its surface, so brilliant it could scarcely be looked upon directly.

Reverend Jiye only smiled inwardly, thinking this nothing more than a Daoist illusion technique — nothing particularly remarkable. He was just about to speak when he suddenly lowered his gaze — and his expression changed at once. His kasaya, with its red and gold coin pattern, was nowhere to be found on his body. He was now clad only in a plain yellow monk’s robe.

“Zhiguan…” he began to call out, then abruptly turned his head toward the pond — that red lotus, if it had not been formed from his kasaya, then what else could it be?

Rong Chen Zi withdrew his technique, the tea rain ceasing instantly. That red lotus, like a tongue of flame, rose slowly from the pond and returned to Jiye’s hands. Jiye no longer dared underestimate this opponent. He poured a cup of tea and offered it to Rong Chen Zi. Rong Chen Zi showed no trace of pride, his bearing neither humble nor overbearing. The two men exchanged toasts, and a spirit of mutual harmony prevailed.

Elder Liu gave Lady Liu a meaningful glance. Lady Liu, having now seen true ability with her own eyes, no longer hesitated — she immediately nodded repeatedly with a beaming smile.

Once the banquet concluded, Rong Chen Zi and Jiye, though following different Daoist and Buddhist paths, found they actually had much to discuss in pleasant conversation. Rong Chen Zi was erudite and encyclopedic in his knowledge, and Jiye was also a monk of considerable attainment — when two such people met, how could they not feel a natural kinship?

But Jiye still had no favorable impression of this river clam by Rong Chen Zi’s side. As the banquet was drawing to a close, he offered veiled words of counsel: “Whether one follows the Buddha or reveres the Dao, one is ultimately bound by the teaching of nurturing no wandering thoughts and maintaining inner stillness in contemplation. This monk has long heard of Zhiguan’s noble character and pure conduct. However, the word ‘desire’ easily gives rise to impure thoughts. Though there may be beneficial methods, it is not fitting to indulge in excess. Zhiguan should give this due thought and proceed with caution.”

Before Rong Chen Zi could respond, that river clam had already piped up in her clear, crisp voice: “Great Monk, how unreasonable — how can you encourage our Zhiguan so?”

Rong Chen Zi spoke to reprimand her, and Jiye, unable to argue with a woman, did not reply. But that river clam was a petty creature — she nursed this grudge in her heart all along!

That afternoon, Elder Liu was discussing the feng shui of his new residence’s foundation with Rong Chen Zi. Geomancy was Rong Chen Zi’s area of expertise, and Jiye did not participate, instead standing by the pond gazing at the withered lotuses, seemingly lost in thought of something unknown. Ye Tian could still be of some assistance and naturally stayed behind Rong Chen Zi. The concubines, having failed to obtain the secret of dual cultivation, were privately calculating their displeasure and refusing to disperse.

The great He Bang bounced and skipped her way over to the side of the pond and flashed a smile at Reverend Jiye: “Reverend!”

Jiye stepped back one pace, pressing his palms together: “Amitabha. What guidance does this female patron wish to offer?”

The great He Bang smiled sweetly. Those beautiful eyes seemed to hold a thousand acres of blue ocean, with waves rising and rolling in magnificent splendor: “The weather is so hot, Reverend.”

Jiye was momentarily startled — and indeed felt the October day to be scorching without measure. That river clam’s smile remained undiminished: “The water in this pond is so cool — how nice it would be to bathe in it.”

“Indeed,” Jiye softly echoed, “the pond water is truly cool and refreshing.”

He Bang’s laughter rang like silver bells: “What a beautiful moon it is, and the lotus flowers are blooming so beautifully.”

In Jiye’s eyes, the sky then darkened into nightfall. The night deepened, a bright moon hung in the center of the sky, and in the pond bloomed the pink lotuses of the sixth month: “What a beautiful pond of lotus flowers.”

He softly sighed in admiration.

He Bang slowly stepped back: “No one is around — let’s go down and bathe.”

To Jiye’s ears, summer insects chirped long and the wind passed through lotus leaves, filling his sleeves with lingering fragrance. He set down his meditation staff and began slowly removing his yellow monk’s robe, then the inner garment beneath, then the loose trousers, and then the straw sandals.

The great He Bang swiftly ran to Rong Chen Zi’s side and tugged on his sleeve, listening to him discuss feng shui formations. When Reverend Jiye was on the verge of removing his last undergarment, a concubine somewhere in the garden let out a sharp scream. Rong Chen Zi and Elder Liu both looked up. There at the edge of the withered lotus pond stood Reverend Jiye, stripped of his robes, as though declaring he had “graced this place with his visit.”

Rong Chen Zi was startled, and swiftly raised the index finger of his right hand to draw a talisman in the air. He murmured an incantation under his breath, and after a moment called out sharply: “Break!”

Before Jiye’s eyes, the darkness surged violently, then drained away like ink slowly flowing out. The scene of broad October daylight returned once more. Realizing he was nearly in a state of undress and about to run naked through the garden, this venerable monk of great virtue was shaken to his very core. He had always been proud of his primordial spirit, and had not encountered a match in many years. Meeting Rong Chen Zi had already given him considerable food for thought — but how was he to know that someone could bewitch him with a mere illusion technique?

He raised his eyes and looked at that river clam, his expression full of shock. That river clam was tugging on Rong Chen Zi’s sleeve, laughing: “Reverend Jiye exists beyond the material world, yet what a pity that his heart remains in the red dust. Though his natural endowment is extraordinary and he has met with a fine master, ultimately it is difficult to attain great fortune.”

Rong Chen Zi, exasperated by her mischief, swung his horsetail whisk and struck her squarely on the back. She let out a cry of pain — and this time it truly nearly cracked her shell.