162: Chapter 162 Ambition to Mend the Sky
Lu Mingyuan walked through Chaos. Zixiao Palace had closed, the myriad immortals had dispersed, Hongjun had vanished. Behind him lay an empty Chaos, nothing remained. Yet he knew that within that emptiness lay the path he had walked. There were the six debates he had argued, the Legacies of the Seven Saints he had received, the Xuan-shu Path he had established, the Spirit Severing Lightning Tribulation he had weathered, the Wanxiang Heaven and Earth that had grown within him.
All those things were behind him. Behind him, yet also within his heart. Within his heart, yet also beneath his feet. As he walked, he suddenly stopped, turned back, and looked at the path he had come from. The path he had come from was no longer visible. Swallowed by Chaos, swallowed by time, swallowed by each step he had taken. But he remembered. He remembered every path, every place, every person, every event. He remembered that rainy night in Heyin, that early morning on Zhongnan Mountain, the mountain gates of the Three Mountains of Daoism, the bell chimes from the Three Temples of Buddhism, the sounds of reading from the Three Academies of Confucianism, the singing of swords from the Three Sects of Martial Arts. He remembered those two years before The Rift, the six debates within Zixiao Palace, the Legacies of the Seven Saints within Chaos, the four confrontations within the Heart Demon. He remembered the light in Iron Ox's eyes when he died, the blood on the Loose Cultivator when he stood, the tears in Duobao's eyes when he asked, the relief in Zhenyuanzi's voice when he said, 'Thank you.' He remembered the warmth in Laozi's palm when he transmitted the 'One,' the trust in Tongtian's gaze when he transmitted the 'Interception,' the compassion in Jieyin's voice when he transmitted the 'Emptiness,' the gentleness in Zhunti's smile when he transmitted the 'Application,' the vitality at Nuwa's fingertip when she transmitted 'Creation,' the weight in Houtu's words when she transmitted 'Reincarnation,' the order in Yuanshi's gaze when he transmitted 'Order.'
All those things were behind him. Behind him, yet also within his heart. Within his heart, yet also upon his Dao.
He stood there, looking at the path he had come from. He looked for a long, long time. Then he smiled. 'The path walked will not be walked in vain. The places stood will not be stood in vain. The deeds done will not be done in vain. The people met will not be met in vain. The tears shed will not be shed in vain. The moments laughed will not be laughed in vain. The fears feared will not be feared in vain. The doubts questioned will not be questioned in vain. The obsessions forced will not be forced in vain. The self pondered will not be pondered in vain. The demons passed will not be passed in vain. The Dao established will not be established in vain. The tribulation weathered will not be weathered in vain. The heaven and earth grown will not be grown in vain.'
He turned and continued walking forward. Towards the mortal world, towards The Rift, towards those who were standing, towards those who were walking, towards those living lives, towards those who had died. Wanxiang Heaven and Earth was within his heart, beneath his feet, within every step he had taken. That heaven and earth contained his everything: his paths, his stands, his deeds; his fears, doubts, obsessions, self; his passing, walking, arriving; his birth, death, life; his tears, laughter, pain; his love, hatred, fear; his rights, wrongs, regrets; his inability to let go, his reluctance to part, his necessity to walk; his willingness to walk, his walking, his arrival. It held the Dao of the Seven Saints, the pain of the Seven Great Calamities, the light of those who had died, the hearts of those who were standing. All those things were within that heaven and earth. Within that heaven and earth, each in its proper place, each fulfilling its purpose. Not chaotic, not crowded, just right.
As he walked, he suddenly remembered something. He remembered the words the Queen Mother of the West had spoken in Kunlun Ruins. 'Keep walking, walk until the day it is mended.' He hadn't understood then, but now he did. To mend was not to patch The Rift, but to mend the flaw in the Heavenly Dao. It was not to destroy resentment, but to transform resentment into love. It was not to defeat the Dark Heavenly Emperor, but to complete what the Dark Heavenly Emperor lacked. To mend required using love to fill the lack, using compassion to transform resentment. Not confrontation, but completion. Not destruction, but transformation. Not defeat, but deliverance.
He stood there, thinking of those words. As he thought, he suddenly felt something growing from within his heart. It was not Wanxiang Heaven and Earth, but a Will. A will to mend heaven, a will to mend the Dao, a will to mend the lack, a will to mend what is incomplete. That Will grew from his heart, down to his feet, becoming a path. It grew to his hands, becoming action. It grew to his eyes, becoming light. It grew to his mouth, becoming words. It grew to his ears, becoming hearing. It grew to his nose, becoming breath. It grew to every inch of his skin, becoming touch. It grew to every thought, becoming knowing. It grew to every footprint, becoming walking.
He stood within that Will, and standing there, he smiled. 'My Will is to mend heaven. Not to patch heaven and be done, but to ensure heaven lacks no more. Not to transform resentment and be done, but to ensure resentment arises no more. Not to complete the Dark and be done, but to ensure the Dark comes no more. To mend heaven is not to mend it once. It is to mend it continuously. It is to mend always, to mend until the day heaven lacks no more, until the day resentment arises no more, until the day the Dark comes no more.'
He took a step and continued forward. As he walked, there was light ahead in the Chaos. Not Laozi's pale light, not Tongtian's azure, not Jieyin and Zhunti's gold, not Nuwa's colors, not Houtu's yellow, not Yuanshi's white, not Zixiao Palace's purple. It was the light of the mortal world, the light from The Rift, the light from Zhongnan Mountain, the light from Heyin. Within that light, there were things. There was The Rift, there was Devilish Qi, there were projections of the Dark Heavenly Emperor, there was the collapse of the Dharma-Ending Age. Yet within that light, there were also things: people standing, people walking, living lives, the light of those who had died.
Looking at that light, he smiled. 'I have returned. I have returned from Zixiao Palace, returned from Chaos, returned from the Seven Saints, returned from the Heart Demon, returned from the Spirit Severing Lightning Tribulation. I have returned, bringing Xuan-shu Path, bringing Wanxiang Heaven and Earth, bringing the Will to mend heaven. I have returned, not to confront, but to complete. Not to destroy, but to transform. Not to defeat, but to deliver.'
He took a step towards that light, towards that light of the mortal world, towards that light from The Rift, towards that light from Zhongnan Mountain, towards that light from Heyin, towards the light of those standing, towards the light of those walking, towards the light of living lives, towards the light of those who had died, towards the heaven that needed mending, and walked on.
As he walked, he suddenly remembered a saying. It was something he himself had said. 'Lack is mended with love, resentment is transformed with compassion.' He smiled. That smile was very light, light as the wind. Yet within that wind, there was something: the solidity of finally knowing how to mend.
Zixiao Palace had closed, the myriad immortals had dispersed, Hongjun had left. But the path had not closed, the path had not dispersed, the path had not left. The path was still there, still beneath his feet, still before him, still at the place he was going. He walked, step by step, not fast, not slow, just walking. Towards that mortal world, towards that Rift, towards that heaven that needed mending, towards that path that must be walked. Wanxiang Heaven and Earth was within his heart, the Will to mend heaven was within his heart, Xuan-shu Path was within his heart. He was walking.