I Offer a Cup of Snow to Immortality

Before my master died, he gave me two instructions. First, take good care of Qingyun Temple. The incense must never go out. Second, keep the dry well in the back courtyard locked up. Never look down into it. I did as I was told, until one day, a knocking came from inside the well. A cool, clear female voice said, “Fellow Daoist, you’re standing on my hair.” I’d thought my master was a Daoist priest, but I never imagined he was the world’s greatest Sword Immortal. Many years later… At the Immortal Dao Assembly, I defeated every challenger. The Chan Buddhist disciple said I was too bloodthirsty, while a Confucian scholar accused me of lacking benevolence and righteousness. I sheathed my sword and asked only one question: “By your principles, who should have stood against that sword three thousand years ago?” The entire hall fell silent. Only the old Daoist in the corner, who had been dozing the whole time, suddenly opened his eyes and smiled at me.