Throughout the thousands of years of history in the Chinese land, Taoism shines like a brilliant and mysterious star, emitting unique radiance. Its profound doctrines and wonderful occult arts have nourished the minds of generations and bestowed numerous blessings upon the mortal world. Zhang Daoling, an eminent Taoist patriarch as early as the Eastern Han Dynasty, stands like a majestic mountain at the pinnacle of Taoism's development, carving out a path leading to the mysterious world of the occult for later generations.
Zhang Daoling, originally named Zhang Ling, demonstrated extraordinary intelligence and a keen perception of nature and the universe since childhood. He grew up in a tumultuous era, witnessing incessant wars and disasters, with common people struggling in dire straits and lives as fragile as ants. The young Zhang Daoling, filled with compassion, resolutely embarked on a painstaking journey to seek a way to save the world. He visited famous mountains and great rivers, paid respects to the wise and virtuous from all quarters. In the mist-shrouded deep mountains, secluded ancient caves, and tranquil Taoist temples and monasteries, he immersed himself in ancient classics, delved into the principles of yin and yang, and contemplated the interactions of the five elements.
After countless days and nights of painstaking meditation and dedicated cultivation, it was as if Zhang Daoling had received divine inspiration and began to create a series of talismans imbued with mysterious powers. These talismans, drawn with cinnabar ink on yellow paper, each stroke was infused with his profound understanding and command of the laws of heaven and earth. Every talisman was a mysterious symbolic code, carrying protective energy from the netherworld, capable of communicating with the yin and yang realms, warding off evil spirits, and invoking blessings.
Among them, one particular house-protecting talisman was even more renowned and was reverently called the "Evil-Suppressing Talisman" by the people. Regarding this talisman, there was a thrilling and extraordinary legend circulating among the folk.
It was a remote and secluded valley, surrounded by mountains on all sides and dotted with grotesque rocks. Ordinarily, the valley was gloomy and chilly, with thick fog lingering throughout the year. Even when the sun was high in the sky, its pale rays could scarcely penetrate the heavy haze to shed a glimmer of warmth. The local people talked about it with dread, spreading rumors that the valley was teeming with ghosts and was a chaotic place where the two worlds intersected. Anyone who carelessly stepped inside would be haunted by evil spirits and lose their lives.
However, upon hearing of this, Zhang Daoling resolutely decided to venture into that mysterious and perilous valley. Clad in a simple and clean Taoist robe, holding a horsetail whisk in his hand, with a firm and composed look in his eyes and steady steps, he entered the eerie valley. As soon as he stepped in, a bone-piercing chill hit him, and faintly in his ears came waves of shrill wails and howls of ghosts, as if countless aggrieved spirits were lamenting their grudges and grievances from life.
Zhang Daoling remained unmoved. He murmured incantations, gently waving the horsetail whisk in his hand, scattering specks of clear light to dispel the surrounding gloom. He advanced deeper into the valley step by step, like a fearless warrior confronting the unknown terrors. In the depths of the valley, he beheld a heart-wrenching scene: countless lonely ghosts and wandering spirits drifted about. Their faces were distorted, expressions woeful, some missing arms or legs, and some drenched in blood, evidently having suffered tragic fates in life. These spirits were trapped here, unable to transcend and be reincarnated. As time passed, their grudges grew deeper, turning this valley into a living hell.
Filled with pity, Zhang Daoling decided to hold a grand salvation ritual right there, using the compassion and occult arts of Taoism to soothe these suffering souls. He set up an altar in the center of the valley, lit curling sandalwood incense, and placed various offerings. Subsequently, he sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and intoned ancient and mysterious scriptures. His voice was deep and resonant, like a resounding bell traveling through time and space, echoing ceaselessly throughout the valley.
As Zhang Daoling chanted, soft golden rays emanated from his body, slowly spreading in all directions. At first, those lonely ghosts and wandering spirits showed looks of terror and fled in all directions. But gradually, attracted by the warm and peaceful golden light, they involuntarily drew nearer. Seeing this, Zhang Daoling increased his output of spiritual power. He made a sword with his hand and waved it in the air, drawing out mysterious runes that corresponded with the sound of the scriptures, forming a powerful purifying force.
Under the shroud of this power, the pain and resentment on the faces of the ghosts and spirits gradually dissipated, replaced by looks of peace and relief. They began to circle around the altar as if expressing their gratitude to Zhang Daoling. This salvation ritual lasted for a full forty-nine days. The yin energy in the valley gradually dispersed, the fog slowly lifted, and finally, the sun shone down on this land again.
When Zhang Daoling completed the ritual and stepped out of the valley, he was exhausted, but there was a glimmer of gratification in his eyes. However, he knew that although the valley had temporarily regained calm, the surrounding villagers still lived in the shadow of fear, fearing that the ghosts and spirits would strike again. Thus, he came to a nearby village.
This village had originally been a peaceful place. The villagers farmed and wove, leading self-sufficient and ordinary yet happy lives. But since the valley had been rumored to be haunted, strange things had frequently occurred in the village: in the middle of the night, there were always inexplicable noises disturbing the villagers' dreams; those working in the fields would occasionally catch a glimpse of a dark shadow flashing by; what's worse, some frail children and the elderly would fall ill for no reason, lapsing into a coma and not responding to any medicine. The entire village was shrouded in a state of panic and unease, and the smiles had vanished from the villagers' faces, replaced by looks of anxiety and helplessness.
The arrival of Zhang Daoling undoubtedly brought a glimmer of hope to the villagers. They gathered around, their eyes filled with anticipation and awe, recounting to this elegant and otherworldly Taoist priest all the strange happenings in the village. Zhang Daoling smiled and comforted them one by one. Then, he took out a house-protecting talisman he had prepared long ago from his bosom.
This talisman, seemingly an ordinary piece of yellow paper painted with cinnabar, yet in Zhang Daoling's hand, emitted a faint golden glow, as if containing boundless vitality and power. He solemnly handed it to the village chief and said, "This is the Evil-Suppressing Talisman. It can safeguard the village. Paste it on the village archway at the entrance. Every morning, sprinkle clean water in front of the talisman and pray sincerely, and all evils will not dare to approach." The village chief received the talisman with trembling hands and thanked him repeatedly. The villagers also knelt down one after another, kowtowing to Zhang Daoling to express their gratitude.
That very day, the village chief, following Zhang Daoling's instructions, led a few strong young men and pasted the talisman high up on the simple and solemn archway at the village entrance. Strangely enough, the moment the talisman was pasted, a dazzling golden light shot up into the sky, illuminating the entire village. The originally gloomy and oppressive atmosphere vanished instantly, replaced by a scene of peace and tranquility.
From then on, nothing strange ever happened in the village again. Children could once again play and laugh in the fields, the elderly could bask in the warm afternoon sun leisurely, men worked hard and reaped bountiful harvests, and women wove and sewed, with laughter and chatter echoing in every corner. The villagers lived and worked in peace and contentment, leading happy lives. And Zhang Daoling's house-protecting talisman became the guardian deity of the village, passed down from generation to generation and venerated by the villagers.
As the years passed by, the story of Zhang Daoling, like this house-protecting talisman, endured for thousands of years and was told and retold in every corner of the Chinese land. It not only witnessed the wonder and greatness of Taoism but also conveyed a longing for a beautiful life and a spirit of never giving up in the face of difficulties, seeking hope and redemption. Let us remember this legend and feel the mysterious charm and warm guardianship of ancient Taoism.