Two children stood beneath the ancient sky,
One followed the stone, one followed the Way.
Their paths would divide across distant lands,
Yet both were bound to the same ancient vow.
The Choice
The mountain was quiet again. The great stone had disappeared into the Huiyang San. Only the strange grass remained, moving gently in the morning wind.
The two children stood before Guan and Zhang. They had listened carefully to every instruction. But there was still one question.
The elder child looked at Zhang. “True One, where must I go?”
“Southwest,” Zhang replied. “More than two thousand two hundred li from here. To Zhangbu Valley, in Pingtang County, Yungui.”
The child repeated the name slowly. “Zhangbu Valley…”
“Yes. You will take your master's stone there.”
The child nodded. “And then?”
“Follow the sealing note.” Zhang handed it to him. “Place the stone within the southern cliff.”
The child accepted it with both hands. “For how long?”
Zhang looked toward the distant horizon. “For as long as Heaven requires.”
The child thought about this, then asked, “Will I see you again?”
Guan smiled. “When the appointed time comes.”
The child nodded. He seemed satisfied with that answer. Then he suddenly remembered something.
“True One…”
“Yes?”
“What name should I use?”
Guan and Zhang looked at each other. The question seemed simple, but names in the mortal realm were rarely simple. A name could carry a destiny; a destiny could carry a vow; and sometimes a single name could echo across centuries.
The Name of the Ancient Vow
Zhang looked at the child.
“The red calamity is approaching its end. The dragon-slaying sword will appear. The tide of withdrawal will rise. And Heaven will bring the old darkness to its end.”
The child did not understand everything, but he knew that Zhang was speaking of something far beyond his present life.
“What should I be called?”
Zhang answered: “Vong Quoc Phu.” (亡國夫)
The child blinked. “Vong Quoc Phu?”
“Yes.”
The name was strange to his ears. He repeated it once more. “Vong Quoc Phu.”
Guan smiled. “One day, the mortal world may remember that name.”
The child scratched his head. “I hope it is easy to remember.”
Zhang laughed. “It will be.”
The younger child suddenly stepped forward. “What about me?”
Guan looked at him. “You will not go to Zhangbu Valley.”
The younger child stared. “Why?”
“You will follow us.”
“Where?”
“To Emei.”
The child brightened. “Emei?”
“Yes. There, you will meet Emei Zhenjun.”
The younger child bowed immediately. “I understand.” Then he glanced toward his senior brother. “Does that mean we are separating?”
The elder child looked at him. “For now.”
The younger child lowered his head. They had guarded their master together for so long that neither had imagined leaving the mountain alone.
Guan looked at them. “Do not think of this as separation. The paths are different, but the vow is the same.”
The two children nodded.
The Sacred Transmission for the Emei Lineage
Before they departed, Guan and Zhang called the younger child, Shiji Nhi, to their side.
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Zhang reached into his sleeve and produced a sacred parchment inscribed with golden celestial glyphs. It contained the divine dialogue spoken at the Dragon Flower Palace between the Jade Emperor and the Supreme Holy Lord.
Zhang looked deeply into the child's eyes, his voice echoing with profound, cosmic authority:
“What was spoken by the Supreme Holy Lord at the Dragon Flower Palace—concerning the decline of Jambudvipa, the Avici Hell awaiting sentient beings, the rise and destruction of the red dragon, the twenty-year turning of the Falun, and the ultimate salvation through His Three True Words: Truthfulness, Compassion, and Forbearance—must never be lost to time.”
Guan placed his hand on the child's shoulder:
“Preserve these exact words within your spirit. You shall enter the sanctuary of Emei Zhenjun, and through your lineage, pass this celestial secret down across a thousand years. When the end times arrive, your distant spiritual descendant shall recount these words to the world.”
Shiji Nhi bowed deeply, etching every single divine phrase into his soul.
Unbeknownst to the mortal world, this young child would become the venerated Mystic Ancestor (Huyền Tổ) of the Emei lineage. Centuries later, upon the misty peaks of Mount Emei, his spiritual successor—a revered High Master—would gather his modern disciples beneath the ancient pines and repeat these exact words to awaken humanity before the final tribulation unfolded.
The Six Characters
Before they departed, the elder child looked toward the crystal stone inside the Huiyang San.
“True One… What were those six characters?”
Guan remained silent.
The younger child leaned closer. “Maybe they were the names of six immortals?”
The elder child shook his head. “No.”
“Then perhaps six heavenly generals?”
“No.”
The younger child thought seriously. “Maybe…” He looked at the stone. “…they are the names of six kinds of wild carrots.”
The elder child stared at him. “Wild carrots?”
“Yes. There are six characters. So there must be six carrots.”
The elder child immediately shook his head. “That makes no sense.”
“Why not?”
“Because you cannot see any carrots.”
The younger child looked around. “That is true.” He thought again. “Maybe they are buried.”
The elder child sighed.
Guan and Zhang could no longer hold back their smiles. The Heavenly Mandate had revealed a secret that reached across a thousand years. Yet these two children were standing before it, trying to decide whether it referred to wild carrots.
Perhaps this, too, was part of Heaven's arrangement. Some truths were too great for a child to understand, and perhaps they were not meant to understand them yet.
The elder child suddenly became serious. “Forget it.” He turned away. “When we are older, we will ask again.”
The younger child nodded. “Good idea.”
Guan laughed softly. “When you are older, you may understand.”
The elder child looked at him. “How much older?”
Guan smiled. “Perhaps three hundred years.”
The younger child immediately frowned. “Three hundred years?”
The elder child laughed. “That is nothing.”
“To us, it is a very long time!”
The two children began arguing. Guan and Zhang simply watched. The mountain had been silent for a thousand years. Now, for the first time, children's voices filled the valley.
Two Roads
At last, the time came to leave.
The elder child carried the sealed stone. The younger child followed Guan and Zhang.
Before they departed, both turned back. The mountain remained exactly as it had been—ancient, quiet, covered in strange grass. But neither child looked at it as an ordinary mountain anymore. Their master remained there, not forgotten, not abandoned, only waiting.
The elder child bowed deeply. “Master, we will return when the appointed time comes.”
The younger child knelt beside him. “We will not forget you.”
The wind passed through the grass. For an instant, the strange vegetation shimmered with pale light. It almost seemed like an answer.
The children rose. Then they began walking—one toward the southwest, one toward Emei. Their figures slowly became smaller against the mountain path.
Guan and Zhang watched them disappear. Neither spoke.
The Buddhist True One finally said, “Two children.”
The Daoist True One smiled. “Two paths.”
“And one vow.”
The Journey of Vong Quoc Phu
The elder child traveled alone toward Zhangbu Valley. He crossed mountains, passed rivers, entered villages, and traveled through changing lands. The sealed stone remained close to him.
Years passed, then decades. The mortal world changed. Dynasties rose; dynasties fell. Yet the child continued his journey. He carried no army, no treasure, no heavenly weapon—only an ancient stone and a promise.
At last, he reached Zhangbu Valley. The mountains stood in silence.
Following Zhang's instruction, he brought the stone to the southern bank. There, beneath the ancient cliffs, he placed it according to the sealing note.
The stone disappeared into the mountain. Its presence became silent. Its secret remained hidden.
Vong Quoc Phu stood before the cliff for a long time. Then he bowed.
“Until we meet again.”
He turned and walked away. The mountain returned to silence. But Heaven had already recorded what had happened.
The Journey of Shiji Nhi
Meanwhile, Shiji Nhi followed Guan and Zhang toward Emei. The journey was difficult, but the child did not complain. He had already learned the meaning of patience.
At Emei, he was entrusted to Emei Zhenjun. There, another chapter of his destiny began.
Years passed, then generations. The child who had once guarded a stone on a lonely mountain became part of another lineage. His descendants would continue to carry the thread forward. And many years later, that thread would reach another master.
The ancient vow had never been broken. It had only changed hands.
The Heavenly Drums
Guan and Zhang continued their journey.
Then—Boom.
A deep sound rolled across Heaven. The two True Ones stopped.
Boom.
Another heavenly drum sounded. The clouds parted. Golden light descended from above.
Zhang looked toward the sky. “Our task here is complete.”
Guan nodded. They turned one last time toward the mortal world.
Below them lay mountains and rivers. Kingdoms would continue to rise and fall. People would continue to love and hate. Some would preserve virtue; others would lose themselves in desire.
The mortal realm would continue its long journey. But somewhere within it, a stone now waited. Somewhere else, another child had begun another path. Both were carrying pieces of the same ancient arrangement.
Guan and Zhang rose into the clouds. Their mortal forms gradually disappeared. The two True Ones returned to Heaven.
The Vow That Waited
Far below, Zhangbu Valley remained silent. The stone slept beneath the mountain.
No one knew what it contained. No one knew why it had been placed there. No one knew how many centuries would pass before Heaven allowed its secret to emerge.
But Heaven knew. And Heaven remembers.
A dynasty would pass. Then another. Then another. The names of kings would become history. The faces of men would fade.
Yet beneath the earth, the ancient stone would remain—waiting. Not for glory, not for recognition, only for the appointed time.
And somewhere beyond the mortal realm, the ancient vow continued its journey.
The heavenly drums sounded one final time. Guan and Zhang entered the celestial gates. Behind them, the mortal world continued to turn. Ahead of them waited another chapter of the Heavenly Mandate.
The stone had been placed. The children had chosen their paths. The vow had been entrusted to the future.
And the long silence had begun.