127: Chapter 127 A Conflicting Discussion
After Taishang Laojun finished speaking, he said no more.
He sat back in the deepest part and closed his eyes like a stone statue.
For a moment, the Zixiao Palace fell silent.
Then, that silence shattered.
Like a stone thrown into a calm lake, ripples spread in all directions.
People spoke in low voices.
They exchanged glances.
Some looked directly at Lu Mingyuan, their gazes as complex as an unsolvable knot.
Lu Mingyuan stood there, being watched by those gazes.
He did not hide.
He just stood there.
But he knew that from this moment on, everything was different.
Before, he was a listener of the Dao.
Before, he was one who answered questions.
Now, he was the one being discussed.
The first to speak was an old man wearing a purple Daoist robe.
He was surrounded by a group of people, all wearing similar robes in various shades of purple.
The old man looked at those around him, his voice neither high nor low, just enough for those nearby to hear.
"the one that escaped is actually a junior at the Middle Stage of the Golden Immortal realm."
A middle-aged man beside him frowned.
"Teacher, could there be a mistake?"
The old man shook his head.
"The Dao Ancestor named him personally; there can be no mistake."
The middle-aged man was still unconvinced.
"But he is only a Golden Immortal. Of everyone seated here, who isn't at the Daluo level or above? And he's the one to face the Dharma-Ending Kalpa?"
The old man was silent for a while.
"The Dao Ancestor has his reasons."
When he said this, there was something in his tone.
It wasn't doubt.
It was a lack of understanding.
The kind of confusion where one cannot make sense of it and thus can only choose to believe.
On the other side, the group of monks in kasyapa robes were also discussing.
A younger monk looked at Lu Mingyuan with curiosity in his eyes.
"Senior Brother, is he the one who came from The Rift?"
The monk beside him nodded.
"So I've heard. He carries an aura of slaughter; his hands have been stained with blood."
The young monk asked:
"Then how did he come to the Zixiao Palace?"
The monk beside him said:
"Taishang Laojun brought him here personally."
The young monk gasped.
"Taishang Laojun received him personally? Isn't he the Sect Leader of the Human Sect? How could—"
The monk beside him interrupted him.
"As a Disciple of the Dao Ancestor, nothing he does is strange."
He paused.
"Besides, didn't you hear? Some parts of the answers he just gave resonate with Buddhist principles."
The young monk thought about it.
"You mean that 'Emptiness and Existence are Not Two'?"
The monk beside him nodded.
"Also 'to be able to hear is the heart.' Such words, if placed within the Chan Sect, would be top-tier sharp wit."
His gaze toward Lu Mingyuan became serious.
"This person is not simple."
The group of scholars in Confucian robes discussed things more directly.
A middle-aged scholar shook his head.
"'My fate is mine to control, not heaven's'? Those are very bold words."
A young scholar beside him disagreed.
"But what he said makes sense. If everything is fate, then the paths he walked would indeed be meaningless."
The middle-aged scholar sneered.
"Whether it is meaningful or not is not for him to decide. The Heavenly Principles are clear; how can a mere human influence them?"
The young scholar wanted to argue further.
The old man sitting at the very front—the one who had previously asked Lu Mingyuan "What is the heart?"—suddenly spoke.
"Enough."
Both of them shut their mouths.
The old man looked at Lu Mingyuan with a deep gaze.
"His words have merit. Beyond the Heavenly Principles, there is the human heart. Beyond the human heart, there are variables."
He paused.
"Have you carefully considered what he said about 'the heart is the eye that watches the sea'?"
Both the middle-aged scholar and the young scholar fell silent.
The old man continued:
"Scholars speak of the Investigation of Things and extend knowledge, and that Nothing exists outside the mind. But is there truly nothing outside the mind? Or is it that things outside the mind can only be seen through the heart?"
He sighed.
"This person is worth our serious attention."
The group of Loose Cultivators in tattered Daoist robes discussed things most casually.
They sat scattered, and their conversation was just as loose.
A scruffy old Daoist looked at Lu Mingyuan and grinned.
"This kid is quite interesting."
A Daoist nun beside him asked:
"What's interesting about him?"
The old Daoist said:
"He answered me by saying, 'When resting, the person stops moving, but the Dao is still there waiting.' It took me three thousand years of cultivation to realize that. How old is he?"
The Daoist nun raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe a blind cat just happened upon a dead rat."
The old Daoist shook his head.
"No. Those answers of his were all walked out by himself. They weren't memorized or learned; they were lived."
He paused.
"What do Loose Cultivators respect most? They respect the path one walks for oneself. The path he walks is the path of a Loose Cultivator."
The Daoist nun was silent for a moment.
"But he has elements of Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism within him; he is not pure."
The old Daoist laughed.
"Impurity is good. Those who are too pure don't go far."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan, a light in his eyes.
"This kid, I have high hopes for him."
The group of generals in white armor discussed things most briefly.
A general with a scar on his face looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"He said that some things are more important than staying alive."
A young captain beside him nodded.
"I believe those words."
The scarred general asked:
"What do you believe?"
The young captain said:
"I believe in him. He has killed Demon Generals; he has that kind of aura. Those who have killed and those who haven't are different."
The scarred general was silent for a while.
"But he is too young."
The young captain said:
"Being young is good. When you're old, you don't dare to die anymore."
The scarred general glanced at him.
Then, he smiled.
That smile, on his scarred face, looked somewhat ferocious.
But there was something in that smile.
There was recognition.
The kind of thing that says, 'You're right.'
There were also some people who did not join any discussion.
They sat in corners, alone.
Men and women, old and young.
There were demons, devils, and existences that were hard to define.
They just watched Lu Mingyuan.
They did not speak.
But their gazes were heavier than words.
Lu Mingyuan could feel those gazes.
Some were well-meaning, some were malicious, and some were neutral.
But regardless of intent, they were all looking at him.
They were all observing him.
They were all weighing him.
He stood there, surrounded by those gazes.
Like standing among countless mirrors, with a different version of himself in every mirror.
Suddenly, a voice rang out.
The voice wasn't loud, but everyone heard it.
"I am not convinced."
Everyone looked toward the source of the sound.
The speaker sat on the left side of the Zixiao Palace, near the edge.
It was a young man.
He looked not much older than Lu Mingyuan.
He wore a green Daoist robe embroidered with a Bagua diagram. His face was very pale, as pale as jade. But his eyes were as red as if they were about to drip blood.
He stared at Lu Mingyuan, his eyes full of fire.
"Why him?"
He stood up.
"I have cultivated the Dao for eight hundred years, from Qi Refining to Daluo. I have killed more demons than he has ever seen. The paths I have walked are longer than the amount of salt he has eaten. Why is he the one that escaped? Why isn't it me?"
The Zixiao Palace suddenly fell silent.
Everyone looked at this young man.
Looking at this young man who dared to say "I am not convinced" in the Zixiao Palace, before the Sages, and right under the nose of Taishang Laojun.
Lu Mingyuan also looked at him.
Looking at the fire in his eyes.
Looking at his clenched fists.
Looking at the green Daoist robe embroidered with the Bagua diagram.
Then, Lu Mingyuan spoke.
"What is your name?"
The young man was taken aback.
"You're asking me?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Yes. Asking you."
The young man was silent for a moment.
"My name is Zhang Xuanqing. A Loose Cultivator. No sect, no affiliation."
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Brother Zhang, you ask me why it's me. I cannot give you an answer."
Zhang Xuanqing sneered.
"You can't answer? Then what right do you have to stand there?"
Lu Mingyuan said:
"Because the Dao Ancestor let me stand here."
Zhang Xuanqing's sneer froze.
Lu Mingyuan continued:
"But I could also choose not to stand here."
He looked at Zhang Xuanqing.
"Do you want to come and sit here?"
Zhang Xuanqing was stunned.
"What?"
Lu Mingyuan said:
"This place, this position, I can let you sit here. But sitting here doesn't mean you are the one that escaped. Being the one that escaped isn't achieved by sitting; it's achieved by walking."
He looked at Zhang Xuanqing.
"The path you walk and the path I walk are different. I don't know what path you are on, but I know it must be very difficult."
Zhang Xuanqing fell silent.
Lu Mingyuan said:
"So, don't ask me why it's me. Ask yourself why it isn't you. Then, continue walking your path."
Zhang Xuanqing stood there, motionless.
He looked at Lu Mingyuan for a long, long time.
Then, he suddenly laughed.
That laugh was not a sneer.
It was a strange laugh, one of relief.
"You are quite interesting."
He sat back down.
"I'll wait to see your Dao debate. If you lose the argument, I still won't be convinced."
Lu Mingyuan also smiled.
"Good."
10
After Zhang Xuanqing sat down, the Zixiao Palace remained quiet for a while.
Then, the sounds of discussion rose again.
But this time, the discussion was different.
Before, it was "Why him?"
Now, it was "Who exactly is he?"
People began to inquire about Lu Mingyuan's background.
People began to discuss the answers he had just given.
People began to speculate what tomorrow's Dao debate would be like.
Lu Mingyuan stood there, listening to those discussions.
He didn't find it annoying.
Nor did he feel proud.
He just felt—
So this is what it feels like to be discussed.
So this is what it feels like to stand here and be watched by so many people.
It turns out the one that escaped isn't a halo; it's a target.
He looked at those people, those lights, and those Daos.
Then, he suddenly remembered what Xuanweizi had said—
"Cultivation is walking. Walk the path beneath your feet well, and you will naturally know how to proceed."
He smiled slightly.
Then, he sat down.
He closed his eyes.
He began to meditate.
Waiting for tomorrow.
Waiting for the Dao debate.
Waiting for those people to come one by one to question him, to debate him, and to prove him right—or to prove him wrong.
In the Zixiao Palace, the discussions continued.
But he could no longer hear them.
He sat there like a stone.
A stone moved from the edge of The Rift into the Zixiao Palace.
The stone did not speak.
It just sat there.
Waiting.