Chapter Twelve: The Primordial Realm (Part One)

Fang Guohuan devoted himself to the study of chess in the White Cloud Cave. Time flew by, and nearly a year passed. On this day, Fang Guohuan was pondering a particularly difficult move, racking his brain but unable to find a solution. His frustration became so intense that his vital energy stagnated, blocking his chest and causing great vexation. Suddenly, a wave of heat surged in his throat, and he coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood. His vision went black and he collapsed in a faint. At that moment, Fanan happened to enter with a lunchbox. Startled by the sight, he rushed to inform Master Kuyuan, alarming the entire monastery. All the monks hurried to the White Cloud Cave.

When they arrived, they found Fang Guohuan pale and unconscious, blood still at the corner of his lips. Master Kuyuan uttered a quiet “what a misfortune,” quickly dissolved a medicinal pill in water, and administered it to Fang Guohuan. Fawu pressed several acupoints on Fang Guohuan’s chest and back in quick succession, channeling his own energy to help activate the medicine and break up the clotted blood. Not until the next day did Fang Guohuan finally awaken. Seeing this, the monks all breathed a sigh of relief, and Master Kuyuan brought him back to Tianyuan Monastery to recuperate.

It was more than ten days before Fang Guohuan’s injuries were fully healed. Feeling his body was no longer a hindrance, he went to take leave of his master and return to the White Cloud Cave. Master Kuyuan, seeing Fang Guohuan restored, was gratified, though reluctant to let him go; but the feeling soon passed. He admonished, “The Dharma is formless, attached to nothing. In the future, do not confine yourself to the patterns on the scrolls. Let your mind dwell in the void rather than cling to forms. Only then can you nurture your spirit and be subtly transformed. Otherwise, you may not reach enlightenment but instead fall into delusion, which is truly dangerous. From now on, approach the study of chess with a mind free of thought.” Then, Master Kuyuan taught Fang Guohuan several methods of breathing and guiding energy. Afterwards, Fang Guohuan took his leave of his master and fellow monks, with Fawu accompanying him back to the White Cloud Cave.

On the road, Fang Guohuan said to Fawu, “It’s a pity I know little of Buddhist teachings. If I had my master’s profound understanding, perhaps my progress in chess would be swifter, and I wouldn’t have gone astray.” Fawu shook his head. “Not so. Though our master’s Buddhist skills are deep and his knowledge broad, he has not attained the ultimate state in chess—perhaps because he pursues too much at once. You are different, focusing single-mindedly on chess with utmost sincerity. Your foundation is solid; from this, by contemplating emptiness and nurturing insight, you have more chance than others to reach that transcendent state.” “Contemplating emptiness and nurturing insight!” Fang Guohuan murmured, nodding. “That is exactly what my master has advised. If this is so, there will be no more frustration or stagnation, no more danger as before. It seems that in seeking the highest realm in chess, one must abandon conventional patterns and find understanding in the contemplation of emptiness.”

Fawu sighed in admiration, “You have rare insight. If you devoted yourself to martial arts, you would become a grandmaster of your era.” Fang Guohuan laughed. “Every talent has its own calling. Without chess, I fear I am incapable of mastering any other skill.” Fawu replied, “It seems you were born for chess.” As they conversed, they arrived at the White Cloud Cave. Fawu gave some final words of caution and departed.

Having just recovered, Fang Guohuan felt restless in the lonely cave. He left and wandered toward Hundred-Fathom Cliff, the highest point of Lianyun Mountain, surrounded on three sides by sheer cliffs, with only a narrow ridge leading to the summit—a perilous path. It was late autumn; the sky was high and clear, the clouds thin and misty. Though his internal strength had not fully returned, the chill air cut through him, leaving him shivering. Alone, he wandered; the forest was dense, the trees bereft of leaves; birds sang mournfully, heard but unseen. Small beasts foraged but out of season; mountain springs had dried up, and the water he once drank was gone. Seeing the desolate landscape, Fang Guohuan sighed deeply, shaking his head.

He walked on until he reached the summit. Suddenly, his mood soared and his spirit was stirred. Above him stretched boundless sky, below him the sheer drop of the cliff; the world lay at his feet. At that moment, Fang Guohuan felt detached from the mortal world, dazed and uncertain. His robes fluttered, his hair danced in the wind; he stood proudly, spirits high; his blood surged, every pore expanded, yet his body and spirit seemed insubstantial, neither alive nor dead; merged with the universe, unable to sense heat or cold; his soul roamed the heavens, all thoughts extinguished, leaving only a solitary awareness. Unknowingly, he entered a state of spiritual ecstasy. Somehow, without knowing how, he retraced his steps back to the White Cloud Cave, and sat cross-legged, dazed, on his stone bed. In a trance, he seemed to hear his family calling from an infinite distance, but as he tried to respond, the sound faded away. He thought he remembered something, but it vanished from his mind.

At dusk, Fanan entered the cave with a lunchbox. Seeing Fang Guohuan deep in meditation, he quietly placed the lunchbox on the stone table, afraid to disturb him. Turning back, he was startled to find Fang Guohuan sitting motionless, his expression vacant, as if he had been sitting there for centuries—like a stone statue, wholly unlike before. Fanan wondered, “Could his old illness have returned?” He approached and gently called, “Junior Brother! Junior Brother!” After several calls, Fang Guohuan slowly opened his eyes, as if waking from a dream, and looked at Fanan in bewilderment, murmuring, “Who... who are you?” “Huh?” Fanan cried out, retreating several steps in fright. Fang Guohuan’s strange behavior, treating him as a stranger, made Fanan slap his head in alarm. “No! He’s lost his mind!” In panic, Fanan ran out to report to Tianyuan Monastery.

Meanwhile, Fang Guohuan drifted in a state between wakefulness and sleep, weak and unable to move his limbs, not knowing where he was. A vague fear rose in his heart, mingled with apathy. Awake and yet dreaming, dreaming yet half-awake, his eyes alternately opening and closing, lost and insensible, until self and world faded away. It seemed as if millions of years passed. Suddenly, Fang Guohuan felt a stir of awareness and recognized his own existence. He awoke from his trance-like oblivion. Opening his eyes, he saw Fanan peering at him with wide, curious eyes, while Master Kuyuan and Fawu stood nearby, faces bright with relief. Fang Guohuan was bewildered, not knowing what had happened. “Brother Fanan, why are you looking at me like that?” Fanan, surprised, replied, “Junior Brother, you’re awake? Are you... are you all right?”

Fang Guohuan found Fanan’s manner odd, and seeing his master and Fawu present—uncertain when they had arrived—he hurriedly rose and saluted Master Kuyuan, asking, “Master, what has happened? Why are you here?” Master Kuyuan, startled, asked with concern, “Guohuan, are you well?” Fang Guohuan replied blankly, “What happened? Why shouldn’t I be well?” Fawu interjected, “It’s good you’re well. We’ve been worried these past two days.” Fang Guohuan, astonished, said, “Two days? Brother Fawu, do you mean I’ve been sitting here for two days?” Master Kuyuan said, “Yes. Two days ago, Fanan reported your strange condition. I hurried over and found you sitting motionless, as if in a trance. How do you feel now?” Fang Guohuan was perplexed. “I really sat here for two days? But I remember nothing of it.” Suddenly he recalled, “Ah, I remember feeling dazed after wandering to Hundred-Fathom Cliff. I don’t know how I got back here. Now I’m awake, but I can’t explain what happened.”

Fawu observed, “Judging by your appearance, you didn’t seem asleep. To sit here two days in oblivion—what could have changed within you?” Master Kuyuan spoke up, “I saw you were not afflicted by your old illness, so I did not disturb you. Now that you’re awake, perhaps you have attained the Tianyuan Transformation! Let us test your chess skill to know for sure.” Fawu nodded, “Master is right.” He quickly set up the Arhat stones and ancient wooden board on the table.

Master Kuyuan took black and placed the first move at the star point. “Guohuan, play a game with me and let us see.” Fang Guohuan stared blankly at the board and pieces, frowning as he picked up a stone. To his astonishment, his mind was empty—he no longer remembered what chess was, nor where to place a piece. In an instant, all his chess knowledge was gone; his skill had vanished. Master Kuyuan, seeing him hesitate, urged, “Guohuan, use all your skill—make a move.” But Fang Guohuan shook his head in confusion and tapped his forehead, trying to recall something, but he remembered nothing about how to play, as if he had never touched a chess piece before.

Master Kuyuan, seeing Fang Guohuan’s strange look, asked in surprise, “Are you unwell?” Fang Guohuan sighed, “Master, I truly do not know what chess is, nor how to play.” “What?” Master Kuyuan, Fawu, and Fanan were all shocked, unable to believe it. Fang Guohuan, once unrivaled in chess, now spoke such words. But his bewildered expression showed no sign of dissembling.

Master Kuyuan, alarmed, checked Fang Guohuan’s pulse. “The pulse is steady, nothing amiss. How could his skill disappear, all knowledge of chess lost?” Fawu, amazed, asked, “If you’ve forgotten chess, how do you know us?” Fang Guohuan replied, “How could I not know my master and brother? But as for chess...” He shook his head, baffled. “I have never studied it.” Fawu exclaimed, “If you don’t know chess, do you remember why you are here?” Fang Guohuan was perplexed. “Yes! Why am I here...?” He furrowed his brow, as if recalling something, but then shook his head in frustration, deeply troubled. Fanan sighed, “It’s over! He’s lost his mind for sure this time.”

Fang Guohuan’s loss of chess skill left Master Kuyuan baffled. He shook his head and sighed, “How could such a strange thing happen? Had I known, I would never have let you pursue solitary meditation. Failing to reach the higher state in chess, you have instead lost all skill.” Pacing anxiously, Master Kuyuan suddenly realized, “Could it be that Guohuan has reached the state of ‘sitting in oblivion’?” Fawu asked, “Sitting in oblivion? What does that mean?” Master Kuyuan explained, “To sit in oblivion is to forget chess, to reach the state of non-action. Entering from action into inaction is a great internal breakthrough; there is no real loss.”

Fawu suddenly understood. “After non-action comes action without limits—that must be the highest state in chess!” “Exactly!” Master Kuyuan exclaimed in excitement. “Non-action leading to infinite action—this is the Tianyuan Transformation in chess!” Fawu and Fanan were overjoyed by this revelation. Fang Guohuan saw their delighted faces and heard them speak in terms he only half understood, and was more confused than ever.

Fanan asked, “Master, since Junior Brother has entered the state of non-action and forgotten chess, is there a way to help him reach the next level, the infinite state, so we’re not all frightened?” Master Kuyuan replied, “No one can help with this; it must come from his own awakening—a sudden flash of insight.” He comforted Fang Guohuan with gentle words and did not mention chess again, then stayed to share some tea and food with him. Fearing any mishap, Master Kuyuan ordered Fawu to remain at White Cloud Cave, watching over Fang Guohuan day and night, while he and Fanan returned to Tianyuan Monastery. When Fayang, Fayan, and others heard that Fang Guohuan had entered a state of chess-forgetting non-action, they were astonished and all went to visit him at White Cloud Cave; finding it true, each marveled at the transformation.

Half a month passed, and Fang Guohuan remained in the state of non-action, having forgotten chess entirely. The monks grew anxious, fearing that if this continued, Fang Guohuan would be lost in inaction forever. Master Kuyuan too was worried, but there was nothing more to do but wait and see. Fang Guohuan often joked and chatted with the visiting monks, but if chess was mentioned, he was at a loss. He sometimes picked up a chess stone and stared at the board, occasionally seeming to comprehend something, only to shake his head and sigh. Fawu, watching, felt compassion but could do nothing; whether by words or by play, he could not guide Fang Guohuan back, and so could only care for him attentively.

One day, Fanan sat on the monastery steps, lost in thought, when a crisp knocking sounded at the mountain gate. Fanan wondered, “If it were a monk returning, he’d use the back gate. Visitors at the main gate are almost always outsiders. Our monastery is remote, deep in the mountains—few come in a year. Who could this be?” He rose and opened the gate. Outside stood a youth in green, sixteen or seventeen, with an extraordinary presence and radiant bearing.

Fanan thought, “What a vital young man!” He pressed his palms together in greeting. “What brings you here, sir? Our monastery does not receive worshipers.” The youth saluted. “May I ask, little master, is this Lianyun Mountain?” Fanan replied, “It is. This area for dozens of miles is Lianyun Mountain.” The youth brightened. “May I ask if a gentleman named Fang Guohuan has been here?” Fanan paused, thinking, “Could this be a friend of Brother Guohuan? But he is in a state of chess-forgetting non-action and cannot see outsiders. Master has forbidden any disturbance. I’d better send him away.” He replied, “Sir, our monastery is secluded and receives no guests. I’m afraid we have not seen the person you seek. Please leave.” He thought, “Monks do not lie; Brother Guohuan is in White Cloud Cave, not the monastery proper—so it’s not a falsehood.”

The youth looked disappointed but asked, “Has little master heard of him? This Mr. Fang is a remarkable chess player and said he would come to Lianyun Mountain.” Fanan hurriedly replied, “Never heard of him! Please seek elsewhere.” With that, he hurriedly closed the gate. The youth sighed, “Thank you for your trouble,” bowed, and left. Fanan shut the gate and thought, “I don’t know if I did right or wrong, but it’s not suitable for Brother Guohuan to see outsiders right now. I’ll tell him later—hope he doesn’t blame me.” Still thinking, he returned to the main hall.

In fact, the youth in green at the gate had been Luo Kun. After traveling with his master, Dr. Gu Si Chen of Medicine King Valley, through many adventures in the northeast, Luo Kun had returned to the central plains and journeyed across the land, searching for Lianyun Mountain. He had found several places by that name, but no trace of Fang Guohuan. Each disappointment only increased Luo Kun’s resolve to find him. Gu Si Chen, observing Luo Kun’s deep regard for Fang Guohuan, was quietly moved. In the intervening years, master and disciple wandered the land, righting wrongs and healing the sick. With his master’s guidance, Luo Kun’s martial skills advanced rapidly, aided by his accidental consumption of the “Twin Ginseng King.” Through his master’s introductions, Luo Kun met many extraordinary people and grew up in the world of martial arts.

This time, after traveling to Dongting Lake, they learned the location of Lianyun Mountain. Gu Si Chen had to visit an old friend and arranged to meet Luo Kun later at Ge Family Village on Shazhou Island in Dongting Lake. Luo Kun came, full of hope, only to be turned away by Fanan, unaware of the true situation.

Disappointed, Luo Kun wandered through Lianyun Mountain, questioning woodcutters and hunters, but none knew Fang Guohuan. Discouraged, he roamed the mountain aimlessly. From afar, he spotted a high peak with a hidden cave and saw several monks coming and going. Knowing they were monks from Tianyuan Monastery, he paid them no mind, unaware that Fang Guohuan was inside. Luo Kun searched all day in vain, then, remembering his meeting with his master, sighed deeply and returned to Dongting Lake.