When I was born, a hundred-year-old Daoist came rushing from the mountains and personally delivered me. He said I was born with Dao Eyes, destined to see through the mists of this mortal world.
He had lived alone in an uninhabited valley for half his life, yet knew everything happening beyond the mountains. He could drive away illness with yellow talismans, and once pointed into the depths of the clouds and said, “Listen. That's a dragon singing.”
Now he has passed away, leaving behind only a yellowed journal. It tells of the jiao dragons he saw, the evil spirits he subdued, the methods he came to understand, and his clearest explanations of heaven and earth.
Starting today, I have decided to follow the methods he left behind and walk the path he once took, seeing for myself whether the world he wrote about is real.
