128: Chapter 128 Thoughts on a Quiet Night

The sound of discussions gradually faded away.

Not truly distant, but because Lu Mingyuan had shut them out of his heart.

He sat in a corner of the Zixiao Palace, leaning against an invisible wall, eyes closed.

The light around him still glowed.

The people around him still spoke.

But he could no longer hear them.

He only heard his own breathing.

Only heard his own heartbeat.

Only heard that small tree in his Dantian, growing slowly, steadily.

He did not know how much time had passed.

Perhaps 'night' had fallen within the Zixiao Palace.

Those lights gradually dimmed.

Not extinguished, but softened.

Like the dusk after the sun sets, everything grew gentle.

Those people also gradually quieted down.

Some closed their eyes and began to meditate.

Some rose and walked elsewhere.

Some gathered in twos and threes, whispering about something.

The Zixiao Palace transitioned from the clamor of day into the tranquility of night.

Lu Mingyuan opened his eyes.

He looked at those people, those lights, that palace.

Then, he stood up.

He walked deeper into the Zixiao Palace.

He did not know where he was going.

He simply felt he should walk.

Walk once more before the discourse on the Dao.

He passed by those seated people, passed through those soft lights, passed through those faint, lingering murmurs.

Someone looked up at him.

Someone nodded to him.

Someone pretended not to see him.

He paid no mind to any of it.

He simply walked.

Step by step, walking within the Zixiao Palace.

Walking on, he found himself in a place with no one.

Here, the light was dimmer than elsewhere.

Here, the air was quieter than elsewhere.

There was not a single person here.

Only a wall.

Characters were carved upon the wall.

Lu Mingyuan stood before that wall.

The characters carved on the wall were ancient.

So ancient he could barely recognize them.

But as he looked at those characters, those strokes, those marks, he suddenly found them familiar.

He reached out and gently traced the carvings.

The moment his fingertips touched the stone wall, his whole body trembled.

He recognized this handwriting.

It was the handwriting of Daoist Songyun.

On that wall, four lines were carved—

'The heart is the pivot, the pivot is the heart.

The heart and pivot are not two; this is the Mysterious Pivot.

The Mysterious Pivot is the gate of the Dao.

After entering the gate, what then?'

Lu Mingyuan stood there, motionless.

He looked at those four lines, at that question asked for nine hundred years.

'After entering the gate, what then?'

He recalled Chapter 40, the line carved on the songyun jade pendant—'What comes after the Heart as the Mysterious Pivot?'

Back then, he did not understand.

Later, he thought, 'Taking the Dao as the pivot, the heart as the key' was the answer.

But now, seeing this wall, seeing these four lines, he suddenly realized—

That question was not yet fully answered.

After 'the heart is the pivot,' there was still a path.

After 'the heart and pivot are not two,' there was still a path.

After 'the Mysterious Pivot,' there was still a path.

After entering the gate, there was still another gate.

He stood before that wall for a long time.

So long that those soft lights dimmed a little more.

So long that the Zixiao Palace fell completely silent.

So long that he himself nearly forgot the passage of time.

Then, he heard a voice.

It was the voice of that old man.

The voice of Taishang Laojun.

'Do you see it?'

Lu Mingyuan turned.

Taishang Laojun stood ten meters behind him, quietly watching.

Lu Mingyuan nodded.

'I see it.'

Taishang Laojun walked over, stood beside him, also looking at the wall.

'This was carved by Songyun the last time he came to the Zixiao Palace.'

Lu Mingyuan asked:

'He came to the Zixiao Palace?'

Taishang Laojun nodded.

'Nine hundred years ago, he came to listen to the Dao. At that time, he was still a Taiyi Golden Immortal. After listening, he carved these four lines here, then left.'

Lu Mingyuan fell silent.

He looked at the four lines, thinking of that old man.

That old man he had never met, yet who had been guiding him all along.

The old man who left the songyun jade pendant, left 'the heart is the pivot,' left a question suspended for nine hundred years.

That—the one who walked ahead of him.

Taishang Laojun said:

'Do you know why he carved these four lines?'

Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.

'Because he was also asking?'

Taishang Laojun nodded.

'Correct. He was also asking. He comprehended 'the heart is the pivot,' but he did not know what came 'after.'

He looked at Lu Mingyuan.

'He waited for this answer for nine hundred years. Unable to wait, he left.'

Lu Mingyuan asked:

'Where did he go?'

Taishang Laojun was silent for a while.

'Unknown. Perhaps somewhere in the Primordial World, perhaps he has already transcended, perhaps—he is dead.'

He paused.

'the one that escaped is not unique to you. Each kalpa has one. Songyun might have been the one from the previous kalpa.'

Lu Mingyuan was stunned.

Daoist Songyun was the one that escaped from the previous kalpa?

Then he—

Taishang Laojun looked at him.

'Do you wish to leave a question and depart, just like him?'

Lu Mingyuan shook his head.

'No.'

Taishang Laojun asked:

'Then what do you wish to do?'

Lu Mingyuan looked at the wall.

'I wish to answer.'

Taishang Laojun smiled.

That smile was very faint.

Faint as moonlight.

'Then answer. Tomorrow, before those people, speak your Dao. After answering, return here and carve your answer.'

He turned and walked into the darkness.

After a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

'Remember, the answer is not given with the mouth. It is given with the path.'

His figure vanished into the darkness.

Lu Mingyuan stood there, looking at that wall, for a very, very long time.

Then, he reached out and traced the carvings once more.

'Senior Songyun, rest assured.'

He said softly.

'I will answer.'

He returned to where he had been sitting and sat down.

The surroundings were very quiet.

Those people were all meditating in their respective corners.

No one discussed him anymore.

No one looked at him anymore.

The night in the Zixiao Palace was as still as stagnant water.

But Lu Mingyuan's heart was not still.

Those four lines were still before his eyes.

That question was still within his heart.

'After entering the gate, what then?'

He closed his eyes and began to think.

He thought of the path from Zhongnan Mountain to The Rift.

He thought of the path from The Rift to the Zixiao Palace.

He thought of those who had died, those who were alive, those who were still waiting for him.

He thought of the Daoist school's 'carrying the Dao through talismans,' the Buddhist school's 'Emptiness and Existence are Not Two,' the Confucian school's 'unity of knowledge and action,' the martial path's 'the way of the sword is the way of the heart.'

He thought of what the Queen Mother of the West said: 'Resistance is useless; mending is the Righteous Path.'

He thought of what Hongjun said: 'You are that one.'

He thought of what Taishang Laojun said: 'The answer is not given with the mouth, it is given with the path.'

He thought of many, many things.

He thought until those things flowed like rivers within his heart.

He thought until those rivers gradually converged.

He thought until the merged waters gradually grew calm.

He thought until the calm water's surface reflected a full moon.

That moon was very round, very bright.

Shining upon him.

Shining upon his heart.

He opened his eyes.

Before him, there was nothing.

Only darkness.

But he knew that moon was still within his heart.

Looking at that moon, he suddenly smiled.

'Tomorrow.'

He said softly.

'Tomorrow, it begins.'

He did not know what tomorrow's discourse on the Dao would be like.

He did not know what those people would ask.

He did not know if he could answer.

He did not know if someone would be dissatisfied, if someone would question him, if someone would point at his nose and curse him.

But he did not care.

What he cared about was only one thing—

Whether he could walk this path clearly.

Whether he could answer that question clearly.

Whether he could let those who had died, those who were alive, Daoist Songyun, Xuanweizi, all those watching him—

See this path.

See this light.

He closed his eyes again.

This time, he truly grew still.

Not by shutting those things out of his heart.

But by inviting them all into his heart.

Letting them dwell properly within his heart.

Letting them ferment slowly within his heart.

Letting them become tomorrow's answer within his heart.

He sat there, like a stone.

A stone moved from beside The Rift into the Zixiao Palace.

But this stone had roots.

Roots planted in the Chaos.

Roots planted in the Primordial World.

Roots planted in the hearts of those who had died.

Roots planted beside that Rift.

Roots planted on the bluestone slab of the ancient temple on Zhongnan Mountain.

He sat there, waiting for daybreak.

Waiting for 'daybreak' in the Zixiao Palace.

Waiting for those people to open their eyes.

Waiting for that discourse on the Dao.

Waiting for the moment he would speak.

He did not know how much time had passed.

Within the Zixiao Palace, those lights began to brighten.

Not suddenly, all at once.

But slowly, bit by bit, like dawn breaking.

Those people also opened their eyes, one by one.

They stood up.

Stretched their limbs.

Glanced at each other.

Then, all looked in the same direction.

Looked at that young man sitting in the corner.

That young man who came from the Dharma-Ending Kalpa.

That young man personally named by the Dao Ancestor.

That young man who would ascend the platform today to discourse on the Dao.

Lu Mingyuan sensed those gazes.

He opened his eyes.

Stood up.

Looked at those people.

Those people were also looking at him.

No one spoke.

But within that silence were a thousand words.

There was expectation, doubt, curiosity, goodwill, disdain, and the sort of thing that waits to see a spectacle.

Lu Mingyuan stood there, watched by those gazes.

He did not evade them.

He simply smiled.

Then, he took a step.

Walked towards the center of the Zixiao Palace.

Walked towards the place where he would ascend the platform today.

Walked towards that discourse on the Dao.

Behind him, those lights grew brighter and brighter.

Those people followed behind him.

Step by step, walking towards the center of the Zixiao Palace.

Walking towards that discourse on the Dao awaited for nine hundred years.