121: Chapter 121 Lao Tzu Comes from the East
Three days after the battle.
The Rift had shrunk to three hundred li.
The churning Devilish Qi was like a wounded beast, retreating into the depths of The Rift, occasionally seeping out in wisps of black smoke before quickly pulling back.
The survivors numbered three hundred and seventy-two.
The dead numbered one hundred and eighty.
Lu Mingyuan stood before the newly established cemetery.
One hundred and eighty graves were arranged neatly, facing the direction of The Rift. This was the Old Taoist's idea—"Let them watch. Let them watch that Rift, and watch how we seal it up."
There were no tombstones before the graves.
It wasn't that they didn't want to erect them, but that they didn't know the names.
When many Loose Cultivators arrived, they didn't leave their names. They said, 'Why leave a name? Does one need to leave a name to slay devil soldiers? If we're killed, just bury us. If we aren't, we'll go back and live our lives.'
Now they were buried here.
One hundred and eighty nameless graves.
Lu Mingyuan stood in the front row.
Tie Niu's grave was the third from the left.
The young man who had used his teeth to bite the devil soldier slept there.
Zhang Qingyuan held a lamp and stood behind Lu Mingyuan.
That heart lamp remained lit even during the day.
Lu Mingyuan did not speak.
He just stood there.
He stood from dawn until dusk.
When the moon rose, Lu Mingyuan was still standing there.
Bai Ze lay at his feet, silent.
These past few days, it had grown increasingly quiet. It wasn't that it didn't want to speak, but that it didn't know what to say. It knew all one hundred and eighty people. When those Loose Cultivators arrived, it had recorded their auras using the bai ze map. Now those auras were just one hundred and eighty names written on the map, never to move again.
The night wind blew, carrying the stench from the other side of The Rift.
Lu Mingyuan finally spoke.
"Bai Ze."
"Hmm?"
"Tell me, where are they now?"
Bai Ze was silent for a while.
"I don't know."
Lu Mingyuan looked at the graves.
"Is there Reincarnation?"
Bai Ze thought about it.
"Reasonably speaking, yes. Lady Houtu transformed into Reincarnation, the Six Paths operate, and after living beings die, their true spirits enter Reincarnation to be reborn."
It paused.
"But this is the Dharma-Ending Kalpa. The Heavenly Dao is flawed, and Reincarnation... is also flawed."
Lu Mingyuan's hand trembled slightly.
"You mean they might..."
Bai Ze shook its head.
"I don't know. I really don't know."
It looked at the graves.
"But I know one thing—no matter where they are, they don't regret it."
Lu Mingyuan looked at it.
"How do you know?"
Bai Ze said softly:
"Because I saw their eyes. In that final moment, there was no fear in their eyes, no regret. Only—it was worth it."
Lu Mingyuan fell silent.
He remembered Tie Niu's eyes.
Those eyes indeed held no fear.
Only light.
A light that had been extinguished.
Suddenly, Bai Ze stood up.
Its fur stood on end.
"Something is coming."
Lu Mingyuan's body tensed instantly, the Wanxiang True Qi spinning wildly in his Dantian, and the golden seed emitted a dazzling light.
"Where?"
Bai Ze looked toward the sky.
"Above."
Lu Mingyuan looked up.
The moon was round, the stars were many, and there was nothing in the night sky.
But he felt it.
Something was approaching.
It wasn't coming from the direction of The Rift.
It was coming from the sky.
Coming from beyond the heavens.
That aura was as vast as the sea, as deep as Chaos, yet as calm as a pool of autumn water.
Lu Mingyuan suddenly thought of someone.
The person who had preached the Dao to him in the ancient temple on Zhongnan Mountain.
The person who had manifested the Supreme True Body when he was Undergoing Tribulation.
That—
"He's here."
Bai Ze's voice was very soft.
Lu Mingyuan looked at the night sky.
Beside the moon, an extra star appeared.
That star grew brighter and larger.
It wasn't a star.
It was a person.
An old man wearing a gray-blue Taoist robe.
The old man walked past the moon, step by step, treading through the Void Realm as if on solid ground. His pace was slow, but with each step he took, the next was already a thousand li away.
Behind him, he left a faint trail of golden light.
That golden light was not a Spell, nor was it a Divine Ability.
It was the Dao.
It was the trace left naturally by the Great Dao.
Lu Mingyuan stood there, motionless.
It wasn't that he didn't want to move, but that he couldn't.
He wasn't frozen in place.
He was suppressed by that aura—no, not an aura, but that natural existence.
That pressure was not oppression, nor was it confinement.
It was a force that allowed all things to naturally abide in peace.
Like a mountain being there, water being there, and heaven and earth being there.
Looking at them, one naturally stood still.
Naturally became quiet.
Naturally knew that one should stand there and watch closely.
The old man walked to a distance of three zhang before him and stopped.
He looked very old, so old that his face was hard to remember. But looking closely, one felt he wasn't old at all. Those eyes were as clear as a newborn infant's. Those hands were as clean as if they had never touched dust.
He wore a gray-blue Taoist robe, washed until it was pale and covered in patches. A hemp rope was tied around his waist, with a gourd hanging from it. On his feet were straw sandals stained with mud.
He just stood there like that.
Like an old farmer who had just returned from the fields.
But Lu Mingyuan knew who he was.
He didn't guess it.
He recognized him.
He recognized him from his heart.
From that snowy night on Zhongnan Mountain, from those days of preaching the Dao, from that utterance of 'Pure and Non-action,' from the Supreme True Body that appeared during the tribulation—
He recognized him.
Lu Mingyuan knelt down.
It wasn't a bow of worship.
It was a bow of gratitude.
"Disciple Lu Mingyuan pays respects to—"
The old man waved his hand.
"Rise."
His voice was very light, as light as wind blowing through bamboo leaves. But when that voice reached the ears, it was clearer than any thunder.
Lu Mingyuan stood up.
The old man looked at him for a long time.
Then, the old man smiled.
That smile was like spring sunlight shining on ice and snow. It wasn't intense; it was gentle. It was the kind of gentleness that warmed one's heart.
"You've grown up."
The old man said.
Lu Mingyuan's eyes suddenly felt a bit sore.
He wanted to say something, but he couldn't say a word.
The old man walked up to him, reached out, and patted him on the head.
That hand was very light.
As light as a father patting his son's head.
"Come, follow me to a place."
Lu Mingyuan asked:
"Where to?"
The old man looked at the sky.
"Chaos."
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
"Chaos?"
The old man nodded.
"In Zixiao Palace, someone wants to see you."
Bai Ze suddenly spoke up.
"Dao Ancestor—"
The old man looked at it and smiled.
"Bai Ze. After all these years, are you still acting as a Book Boy?"
Bai Ze lowered its head.
"This Disciple is ashamed."
The old man shook his head.
"There is no shame. What is there to be ashamed of in being a Book Boy? To be a Book Boy for the Great Dao is a blessing."
He looked at Bai Ze.
"You come too."
Bai Ze was stunned.
"Me?"
The old man nodded.
"You are also a Person of Destiny. That classic of mountains and seas was given to this boy by you. That dream was entered by you. All those things, you must witness them."
Bai Ze looked at Lu Mingyuan, then at the old man.
"Then here..."
The old man looked at the campsite nearby, at the survivors, and at the graves.
"Someone will look after it."
He paused.
"Three days. After three days, you will return."
Lu Mingyuan asked:
"Three days?"
The old man nodded.
"Three days in Chaos is three years in the Great Desolation."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"Are you at ease?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
He looked at the camp, at those still recovering from their wounds, at the lamp Zhang Qingyuan held, and toward the direction where Fa Ming, Yue Wushuang, Zhang Lingyun, and Li Haoran lay.
Then, he looked at those graves.
One hundred and eighty nameless graves.
He took a deep breath.
"I am at ease."
The old man smiled.
"Good."
He turned and began walking toward the sky.
"Let's go."
Lu Mingyuan looked at Bai Ze.
Bai Ze nodded.
The man and the beast followed behind the old man, walking into the night sky.
Beneath them was the Void Realm.
But stepping on it felt like stepping on solid ground.
Lu Mingyuan looked down.
Below was the earth.
The earth, growing further and further away.
The camp became a small dot, The Rift became a thin line, the mountain ranges became patterns, and the earth became a blurred outline.
Then, he saw it.
He saw the boundary of this world.
That thin membrane.
Beyond the membrane was an endless gray.
A hazy gray where there was nothing.
Yet everything was there.
The old man stopped before the membrane.
He reached out and made a light stroke.
An opening appeared in the membrane.
From the opening, the aura of Chaos surged out.
Lu Mingyuan was very familiar with that aura.
When he was in secluded cultivation on Zhongnan Mountain, when he was achieving the Fusion of the three religions, and when he comprehended the Wanxiang True Qi, he had felt it.
But what he had felt then was only one-billionth of this aura.
Now, outside this opening was the endless Chaos.
The true Chaos.
The old man turned back and looked at him.
"Are you afraid?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
"I am not afraid."
The old man asked:
"Why?"
Lu Mingyuan looked at the opening.
"Because you are here."
The old man smiled.
That smile was even gentler than before.
"Good. Remember these words."
He stepped into the Chaos.
"Because someone is here, there is no fear."
Lu Mingyuan looked at his back and took a deep breath.
Then, he followed him inside.
Bai Ze followed last.
The opening slowly closed behind them.
In the Chaos, there was nothing.
No up or down, no left or right, no front or back, no time.
Only gray.
Endless, boundless gray.
But looking closely, there were things within that gray.
There was light.
Lights of all colors.
Those lights flickered like stars, yet they weren't stars. They had no fixed position, no fixed brightness, no fixed existence. Some lights suddenly brightened, some suddenly went out, and some suddenly changed to another color.
There were also sounds.
Not sounds heard with the ears.
But sounds heard with the heart.
Those sounds were very light and cluttered, as if countless people were speaking, yet also as if countless people were silent. Some voices were crying, some were laughing, some were chanting sutras, and some were cursing.
There were also auras.
All kinds of auras.
Some auras were as vast as the sea, some were as sharp as needles, some were as gentle as a spring breeze, and some were as violent as thunder.
Lu Mingyuan stood there, not knowing which way to go.
But the old man walked very steadily.
He walked in the Chaos as if walking in his own courtyard.
With every step he took, the Chaos automatically parted to make a path.
Those lights, those sounds, and those auras all became quiet.
Like children seeing their father.
Lu Mingyuan followed behind him, walking forward step by step.
He didn't know how long they walked.
It could have been an instant, or it could have been ten thousand years.
In the Chaos, there was no time.
But he knew one thing—
He was walking.
Walking in the Chaos.
Walking following that old man.
Suddenly, the old man stopped.
Lu Mingyuan looked in the direction of his gaze.
Ahead, there was something.
It was a palace.
A palace floating in the Chaos.
The palace was so large that its boundaries could not be seen. The palace walls were purple, the tiles were blue-green, and the gates were golden. A plaque hung above the gate, with three words written on it—
Zixiao Palace.
Those three words were not written on it.
They were carved into it.
Carved by the Dao itself.
Lu Mingyuan looked at those three words and suddenly became somewhat dazed.
He remembered that snowy night on Zhongnan Mountain when Xuanweizi preached the Dao to him.
He remembered those three questions at Longhu Mountain, when Immortal Master Yu Shu asked him why he sought the Dao.
He remembered that snow at Shaolin, when Zen Master Huijue said, 'The snow is simply falling.'
He remembered that osmanthus tree at Yuelu Academy, the one planted by Zhu Xi's own hand.
He remembered that sword discussion at the peak of Mount Hua, where the world's sword ways converged.
He remembered that oath at the Buzhou Mountain Ruins, where the five of them first gathered.
He remembered that Rift, those who died, and those who lived.
Finally, he remembered the words the old man said at the entrance to the Chaos—
"Because someone is here, there is no fear."
He took a deep breath.
He stepped forward and walked toward Zixiao Palace.
Reaching the gate, the old man stopped.
He turned and looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"Do you know why I brought you here?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
"I don't know."
The old man nodded.
"Not knowing is correct."
He looked at that gate.
"Inside the gate, there are many people. They are all waiting for you."
Lu Mingyuan asked:
"Waiting for me to do what?"
The old man smiled.
"Waiting for you to speak."
He paused.
"To speak of your Dao."
Lu Mingyuan was silent.
He thought of those who had died.
Tie Niu, and those Loose Cultivators whose names were unknown.
When they died, was there Dao in their eyes?
He didn't know.
But he knew one thing—
When they died, there was no fear in their eyes.
Only light.
Was that light the Dao?
He didn't know.
But he was willing to believe it was.
The old man looked at him.
"Go in."
Lu Mingyuan asked:
"You aren't going in?"
The old man shook his head.
"I am already inside."
He smiled.
"I have always been inside."
After saying that, he pushed open the gate.
The gate opened.
Inside the gate was endless light.
In the depths of the light sat countless people.
Every one of those people was like a mountain.
Like a sea.
Like heaven and earth.
Lu Mingyuan stood there, looking at that endless light and those countless people.
Then, he stepped forward and walked inside.
Behind him, the gate slowly closed.
Outside the gate, the old man stood there, watching the closed gate.
He smiled.
That smile was even gentler than before.
"You've grown up."
He said softly.
Then, he turned and walked toward the depths of the Chaos.
Wherever he passed, the Chaos automatically parted to make a path.
That path led to the Great Desolation.
It led to that place that was still bleeding, where people were still dying, and where lamps were still lit.