159: Chapter 159 Nascent Soul Tribulation

Within the Chaos, Lu Mingyuan walked.

Walking toward the mortal world, toward The Rift, toward those who stood, toward those who walked, toward those who lived, and toward those who had died.

As he walked, he suddenly felt something. He stopped and looked up. The sky of Chaos had changed. It wasn't hazy gray; it was black. Black as ink, black as an abyss, black as it was before the opening of the heavens. In that darkness, there were things. There were thunder, lightning, fire, and wind. There was the resentment of the Three Thousand Demon Gods who fell in the Heaven-Opening Great Tribulation, the pain of the beings who died in the Ferocious Beast Great Tribulation, the hatred of the Dragon Clan and Phoenix who fell in the Dragon-Phoenix Great Tribulation, the wounds of the zhou heavens shattered in the Witch-Demon Calamity, the tears of the Jie Sect Disciples who died in the Investiture of the Gods Calamity, the anger of the demons who were plotted against in the Journey to the West Great Tribulation, and the deficiency of the Heavenly Dao that collapsed in the Dharma-Ending Kalpa. All those things were in that darkness. In the blackness, they surged and roared, waiting to fall.

He knew what it was. It was the Spirit Severing Lightning Tribulation. Not the Lightning Tribulation of a Golden Core becoming a Nascent Soul, but the one where the heart tribulation was the Heavenly Tribulation. It was the Heavenly Dao's test of a newly established Dao, the scrutiny of all laws upon a newly established Dao, and the interrogation of the Three Thousand Great Daos upon a newly established Dao.

He stood there, looking at the darkness. In the darkness, there were voices. Not the voice of one person, but the voices of countless people. There were the voices of the Three Thousand Demon Gods, of countless living beings, of the Dragon Clan and Phoenix, of the Yao Race and Witch Race, of the Jie Sect Disciples, of the various demons from the Journey to the West, and of the sentient beings of the Dharma Ending Age. Those voices blended together, a buzzing drone that made it impossible to hear clearly. Yet in every voice, there was the same question—"By what right?"

Lu Mingyuan stood there, listening. He spoke. "By the fact that I have walked."

The voices in the darkness stopped. Then, in that blackness, there was light. Not a bright light, but a dim one. It was the light of those who had died, the light of those who had fallen, the light of those who had died standing. Those lights fell from the darkness, falling onto him, into his heart, and onto the Dao he had walked. In that light, there was a voice. This time, there was only one voice. It was the voice of Tie Niu.

"You are walking for us; did you walk correctly?"

Lu Mingyuan stood there, listening to Tie Niu's voice. He thought for a moment. "I don't know. But I am walking. As I walk, I will come to know."

In the light, another voice spoke. It was the voice of a Loose Cultivator. "You are standing for us; did you stand correctly?" Lu Mingyuan said, "I don't know. But I am standing. As I stand, I will come to know."

In the light, another voice spoke. It was the voice of a Jie Sect Disciple. "You are taking it for us; have you taken it?" Lu Mingyuan said, "I have. In my hands, in my heart, and on the road I walk."

In the light, another voice spoke. It was the voice of Daoist Songyun. "After the Heart as the Mysterious Pivot, have you answered?" Lu Mingyuan said, "I have. After the Heart as the Mysterious Pivot, it is still the heart. Not a heart that remains stationary, but a heart that has walked through. It is a heart emptied after containing all laws, a heart made clean after passing through fear, doubt, obsession, and self. It is a heart that shines brightly after seeing one's true nature, and a heart that must continue to walk even after establishing the Dao."

The light fell silent. Then, in that light, another voice spoke. This time, it wasn't the voice of one person, but the voices of everyone. It was the voices of the Three Thousand Demon Gods, of countless living beings, of the Dragon Clan and Phoenix, of the Yao Race and Witch Race, of the Jie Sect Disciples, of the various demons of the Journey to the West, and of the sentient beings of the Dharma Ending Age. Those voices no longer buzzed or sounded unclear. They merged together, forming a single voice—"Walk."

That single word came from the light. It came from those who had died, from those who had fallen, from those who had died standing. It fell upon him, into his heart, and onto the Dao he had walked.

The darkness began to move. It was not surging or roaring; it was splitting open. Like the sky splitting, like the earth splitting, like Chaos splitting. In that rift, there was lightning. A bolt of lightning fell from The Rift. That lightning was no ordinary lightning; it was purple. Purple like Zixiao Palace, purple like Hongjun's Dao, purple like the depths of the Heavenly Dao.

The lightning fell upon him. He did not dodge, block, or retreat. He simply stood, letting the lightning fall. When it hit him, it didn't hurt. It felt like something very deep, very heavy, and very profound was descending. In that lightning, there were things. There were the sacrifices of the Heaven-Opening Great Tribulation, the fear of the Ferocious Beast Great Tribulation, the resentment of the Dragon-Phoenix Great Tribulation, the shattering of the Witch-Demon Calamity, the pain of the Investiture of the Gods Calamity, the helplessness of the Journey to the West Great Tribulation, and the collapse of the Dharma-Ending Kalpa. All those things were within the lightning. They fell upon him, into his heart, and onto the Dao he had walked.

He stood there as the lightning fell. As he stood, he suddenly understood. This lightning was not meant to strike him down; it was meant to question him. It asked if he knew the pain of those calamities, if he remembered those who had died, if he dared to take their burden, and if he was willing to walk for them. He knew, he remembered, he dared, and he was willing.

He spoke. "I know. In the Heaven-Opening Great Tribulation, Pangu opened the heavens, and the Three Thousand Demon Gods fell. That was the sacrifice of creation, the price of the Dao. Those Demon Gods were not enemies; they were the foundation of the path. Without them, there would be no heaven and earth."

The lightning changed. It was no longer purple; it was red. Red as blood, red as fire, red as the eyes of a Vicious Beast. The second bolt of lightning fell.

He stood. "In the Ferocious Beast Great Tribulation, the Chaos Vicious Beasts ran rampant, and the Three Clans first rose. That was the source of fear, the price of the unknown. Those Vicious Beasts were not evil; they were afraid. Afraid of the newborn heaven and earth, afraid of the unfamiliar light, afraid of things they did not understand. Once they feared, they became ferocious. Once they became ferocious, they died."

The lightning changed. It was no longer red; it was green. Green like dragon scales, green like phoenix feathers, green like Luo Hou's Devilish Qi. The third bolt of lightning fell.

He stood. "In the Dragon-Phoenix Great Tribulation, the Dragon-Han First Calamity, Luo Hou brought Chaos to the world, and the Dao and Demon first separated. That was the price of struggle, the accumulation of resentment. The Dragon Clan and Phoenix were not enemies; they were those who struggled. In their struggle, they grew resentful. In their resentment, they died. Luo Hou was not a demon; he was the missing piece of the Dao. When the Dao was deficient, he came. When the Dao was mended, he left."

The lightning changed. It was no longer green; it was yellow. Yellow like the earth, yellow like Hou Tu's heart, yellow like the path of Reincarnation. The fourth bolt of lightning fell.

He stood. "In the Witch-Demon Calamity, the zhou heavens shattered, and Hou Tu transformed into Reincarnation. That was the price of prosperity leading to decline, the labor pains of the Heavenly Dao changing hands. The Witch Race and Yao Race were not wrong; they simply overreached. Having overreached, they shattered. Having shattered, they died. Hou Tu was not a Saint; she was the earth. She was the one who caught everything. She caught the fragments of the witches and demons, the broken pieces of heaven and earth, and the beginning of Reincarnation."

The lightning changed. It was no longer yellow; it was white. White like the investiture of the gods, white like Jiang Ziya's hair, white like the faces of those Jie Sect Disciples when they died. The fifth bolt of lightning fell.

He stood. "In the Investiture of the Gods Calamity, the Chan and Jie sects fought, and the Heavenly Court was established. That was the price of order, the replacement of Daoist traditions. The Jie Sect Disciples were not wrong; they simply stood on the wrong side. Even if they stood on the wrong side, they still stood. As they stood, they died. But even in death, their hearts remained. They remained with Duobao, with Tongtian, and with those who walk."

The lightning changed. It was no longer white; it was gold. Gold like Buddha-light, gold like Tathagata, gold like the path of the Journey to the West. The sixth bolt of lightning fell.

He stood. "In the Journey to the West Great Tribulation, through the Karma of the pilgrimage, the Buddhist Sect flourished. That was the price of faith, the diversion of Daoist traditions. Those demons were not evil; they were chess pieces. They were plotted against, used, and sacrificed. Yet they lived, they walked, and they undertook the pilgrimage. Once they completed the pilgrimage, they understood. Once they understood, they were no longer chess pieces."

The lightning changed. It was no longer gold; it was black. Black like The Rift, black like An Tiandi's robes, black like the sky of the Dharma Ending Age. The seventh bolt of lightning fell.

He stood. "In the Dharma-Ending Kalpa, An Tiandi invaded, and the Heavenly Dao was on the verge of collapse. That was the price of human hearts, the end of the Dao. An was not evil; he was a deficiency. He was the projection of the Heavenly Dao's missing pieces, the accumulation of resentment from countless calamities. Resisting is useless; mending is the Righteous Path. Deficiency is mended with love; resentment is transformed with compassion."

All seven bolts of lightning had fallen. He stood there, his body marked by seven lightning imprints: purple, red, green, yellow, white, gold, and black. Those marks were on his body, in his heart, and on the Dao he had walked. They didn't hurt; it was a weight of being remembered.

The darkness dissipated. It didn't vanish all at once, but bit by bit. As it cleared, the sky of Chaos brightened. It wasn't a blinding light, but a gentle, merciful light, like a mother looking at her child. In that light, there were things. There were sweet dews and rains, the Heavenly Dao's recognition of the newly established Dao.

The sweet dew fell. It fell on him, in his heart, and on the Dao he had walked. In that dew, there were things: life transformed from the sacrifices of the Heaven-Opening Great Tribulation, courage from the fear of the Ferocious Beast Great Tribulation, compassion from the resentment of the Dragon-Phoenix Great Tribulation, wholeness from the shattering of the Witch-Demon Calamity, love from the pain of the Investiture of the Gods Calamity, awakening from the helplessness of the Journey to the West Great Tribulation, and mending from the collapse of the Dharma-Ending Kalpa.

He stood in that sweet dew, letting it fall upon him. As it fell, he suddenly felt something growing. It didn't grow from the outside, but from within his heart. It grew from the heart that had walked so many paths, stood for so long, done so many things, realized so many truths, overcome so many demons, established the Xuan-shu Path, and crossed the Spirit Severing Lightning Tribulation. That thing was vast, as large as heaven and earth. That thing was tiny, as small as a grain of dust. That thing was bright, as brilliant as the sun. That thing was dark, as deep as the night. That thing had a name: Wanxiang Heaven and Earth. It was his Domain, the world he had walked into existence, the world he had stood into existence, the world he had created through his actions, the world he had realized through his Dao, the world he had forged by overcoming demons, the world he had established through Xuan-shu Path, and the world he had crossed into through the Spirit Severing Lightning Tribulation.

Within that world was everything he possessed. There was his path, his standing, and his doing. There was his fear, his doubt, his obsession, and his self. There was his passing, his walking, and his arriving. There was his life, his death, and his living. There were his tears, his smiles, and his pain. There were his love, his hatred, and his fear. There were his rights, his wrongs, and his regrets. There was his inability to let go, his reluctance to part, and his necessity to walk. There was his willingness to walk, his walking, and his arrival. There was the Dao of the Seven Saints, the pain of the Seven Great Calamities, the light of those who had died, and the hearts of those who stood. All those things were in that world. Within that world, everything found its place and served its purpose. It was not chaotic or crowded; it was just right.

He stood in that world, and as he stood, he suddenly remembered a phrase. It was a phrase he had said himself. "My Dao is called Xuan Shu. Heart as the Mysterious Pivot. When the heart is still, all laws naturally return. When the heart moves, all laws are naturally born." Now, his Dao had its own heaven and earth. It was not a world inherited from others, but one he had walked out himself. It was a world finally realized after walking so many roads, standing for so long, doing so many things, understanding so many principles, overcoming so many demons, establishing his Dao, and crossing his tribulation.

He smiled. The smile was very light, light as a breeze. But in that breeze, there was something—the profound emotion of finally reaching this point.

He spoke. "I have crossed the Spirit Severing Lightning Tribulation. Not just crossed it, but walked through it. By walking, I came to know. By walking, I came to understand. By walking, I have arrived."

He took a step and continued forward. Toward the mortal world, toward The Rift, toward those who stood, toward those who walked, toward those who lived, and toward those who had died. As he walked, he suddenly remembered something. He thought of his Master, Xuanweizi, of Zhongnan Mountain, and of that rainy night. He smiled. "Master, your Disciple has reached this point. But the road is still long. I will keep walking. I will walk until the day I can walk no more. Until the end. Until the place where you are waiting for me."

He walked, step by step. Neither fast nor slow. He simply walked.

In Zixiao Palace, the Seven Saints watched the depths of Chaos. Laozi spoke. "He has crossed it." Tongtian nodded. "He has." Jieyin said, "The Spirit Severing Lightning Tribulation, seven bolts of lightning." Zhunti said, "Heaven-Opening, Ferocious Beast, Dragon-Phoenix, Witch-Demon, investiture of the gods, Journey to the West, Dharma-Ending." Nuwa said, "He has taken them all." Hou Tu said, "He has remembered them all." Yuanshi said, "He has walked through them all." Laozi smiled. "Now that he has walked through them, he is no longer just himself. He is the Dao. He is the Xuan-shu Path. He is the Wanxiang Heaven and Earth." Tongtian also smiled. "Let us go. Back to our places, to walk our own paths. He walks his path, and we walk ours." Jieyin smiled. "Let's go." Zhunti smiled. "Let's go." Nuwa smiled. "Let's go." Hou Tu smiled. "Let's go." Yuanshi smiled. "Let's go."

The Seven Saints walked out of Zixiao Palace, into the Chaos, toward their respective abodes and their respective paths.

Within the Chaos, Lu Mingyuan walked. Toward the mortal world, toward The Rift, toward the place he was meant to go. He walked. Wanxiang Heaven and Earth was in his heart, beneath his feet, and in every step he took. Within that world was the Dao of the Seven Saints, the pain of the Seven Great Calamities, the light of those who had died, and the hearts of those who stood. All those things were in that world. They were in his heart, beneath his feet, and in every step he took. He walked, step by step, toward the mortal world, toward The Rift, toward the place he was meant to go.