195: Chapter 195 Entering Chaos

After saying goodbye, Lu Mingyuan did not look back.

He knew three hundred and eighty people stood behind him, knowing they were watching, waiting, and hoping. But he did not look back, for looking back would prevent him from going far. This was not heartlessness, but deep affection. Only those with deep affection understand the necessity of not looking back. Once you look back, your heart softens. Once your heart softens, your feet become heavy. Once your feet are heavy, you can no longer move forward.

He walked toward the boundary of Chaos.

At the edge of the Great Desolation, the world had become very thin. The sky was no longer blue but a grayish-white, like a crumpled piece of paper. The ground was no longer solid but ethereal, like a layer of ice that would collapse if stepped upon. The wind was no longer wind, but the breath of Chaos seeping through The Rift, carrying an ancient scent. That scent was neither fragrant nor foul, neither old nor new, neither living nor dead. It was the scent of "Nothingness," the scent of before everything began.

Bai Ze crouched on his shoulder, its body trembling slightly. It wasn't fear, but excitement. As an ancient Divine Beast, it had witnessed the birth of the Great Desolation, the opening of heaven and earth, and the growth of all things. But it had never seen Chaos, for Chaos existed before heaven and earth, before its own birth. Now, it was returning—returning to the place where everything began.

"Bai Ze, are you afraid?"

"I'm not afraid. I am a Divine Beast; Divine Beasts are not afraid."

"But you're trembling."

"That's from the cold. There is no temperature in Chaos; it's cold."

Lu Mingyuan smiled but didn't call it out. He reached out and patted Bai Ze's head. Bai Ze's head was very hard, like stone. But its heart was very soft, like water. It had followed him from the East Sea, from the Northwest to Zixiao Palace, from Zixiao Palace back to the Northwest, and now it was walking into Chaos. It had never complained, never shrunk back, and never doubted. It simply followed, walked, and guarded.

"Let's go," Lu Mingyuan said.

"Let's go."

He took a step and crossed the boundary of the Great Desolation.

---

In that instant, the world vanished.

There was no sky, no earth, no mountains, no water, no wind, no clouds. No color, no sound, no scent, no temperature. No up or down, no left or right, no front or back. No distance, no size, no quantity. No past, no future, no present.

Only Chaos.

A murky gray—not truly gray, but "Nothingness." That "Nothingness" was not emptiness, but infinite possibility. Like a blank sheet of paper, with nothing on it, yet anything could be drawn. Like a mirror, reflecting nothing, yet capable of reflecting everything. Like a seed, growing nothing, yet capable of growing anything.

Lu Mingyuan stood in Chaos for a long time. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn't know how to walk. There were no directions, no paths, no references. He was like a blind person thrown into an infinite darkness. No, worse than a blind person. A blind person can at least touch the ground, hear the wind, or smell a scent. He could touch nothing, hear nothing, and smell nothing.

"Bai Ze, are you there?"

"I'm here."

"What do you see?"

"I see nothing."

"What do you hear?"

"I hear nothing."

"Then what do you smell?"

"I smell nothing."

Lu Mingyuan was silent for a moment. "Then how do we walk?"

Bai Ze was also silent. It had lived for tens of thousands of years, read countless books, and witnessed countless events, but it had never seen Chaos. Because Chaos existed before heaven and earth, before it was born. All its knowledge of Chaos came from the classic of mountains and seas and the bai ze map. But what was written in those books were legends of Chaos, not maps of Chaos.

"The bai ze map says that Chaos has no direction or orientation, but the heart has direction and orientation. Wherever the heart goes, the path will open."

"Where does the heart go?"

"Where do you want to go?"

Lu Mingyuan closed his eyes. There was no light, so closing them or keeping them open was the same. But he closed them anyway, because by closing his eyes, the heart could see more clearly. He saw The Rift in the Northwest, the sentinels on Mount Buzhou, Zhao Sanniang's lamp, Sun Wukong's eyes, and Yang Jian's blade. He saw Xuanweizi's white hair, Daoist Songyun's carvings, and the various Sages of Zixiao Palace.

He wanted to go forward, deep into Chaos, to the source of all laws. But where was forward? There was no forward. Where was deep? There was no deep. Where was the source? There was no source.

"I don't know," Lu Mingyuan said.

"Then don't know. Knowing is a direction, and not knowing is also a direction. Knowing is a path, and not knowing is also a path. As you walk, you will come to know."

Lu Mingyuan opened his eyes. He no longer thought about direction, the path, or the source. He simply walked, taking steps forward. If there was no direction, he would set his own. If there was no path, he would forge his own. If there was no source, he would be the source himself.

He took a step.

Chaos did not change. It was still murky gray, still "Nothingness."

He took another step.

Still no change.

He took ten steps, a hundred steps, a thousand steps.

Chaos remained the same Chaos, unchanging. Without distance, no matter how many steps he took, it didn't feel far. Without size, no matter how many steps he took, it didn't feel large. Without time, no matter how many steps he took, it didn't feel long.

He didn't know how long he had walked, nor how far. Because in Chaos, there is no "how long" or "how far." There was only walking, walking incessantly, walking forever.

---

Suddenly, he stopped.

Not because he was tired, but because he saw something. There was nothing in Chaos, yet he saw something. It wasn't a physical object, but a feeling. Like being in the dark and sensing a wall ahead. You can't see it, but you know it's there because it blocks the wind, the sound, and the breath.

Lu Mingyuan reached out and felt forward.

His hand passed through the Chaos and touched something. It was very hard, like iron. It was very cold, like ice. It was very large, so large he couldn't feel its edges.

"Bai Ze, what is this?"

Bai Ze unfurled the bai ze map, and golden light flickered. That golden light illuminated the Chaos—though only a tiny area, it was the only light in the Chaos. Zhao Sanniang's oil lamp also glowed, and the two lights merged to illuminate the object.

It was a bone. A massive bone, larger than a mountain and longer than a river. Ancient patterns were carved into the bone, and black liquid flowed within those patterns. That liquid wasn't blood; it was resentment. It was the resentment of the Great Tribulation, the hatred of the fallen, and the deficiency of the Heavenly Dao.

"This is the skeleton of a Demon God," Bai Ze said. "During the Heaven-Opening Great Tribulation, Pangu slew the Three Thousand Demon Gods. Their skeletons are scattered throughout Chaos, never decaying. Resentment clings to them, turning into Demonic Mist that devours any living being that approaches."

"It's moving."

"It isn't moving. It's your heart that's moving. If you fear it, it moves. If you don't fear it, it doesn't move."

Lu Mingyuan stared at the bone for a long time. He saw the resentment, the hatred, and the deficiency. But he also saw something else. He saw the glory the Demon Gods had when they were alive, their pursuit of the Heavenly Dao, and their struggle during the Heaven-Opening Great Tribulation. They were not evil; they were "deficient." They lacked heaven, they lacked earth, and they lacked the Dao. When Pangu opened the heavens, they lost their place to stand.

"I want to deliver it," Lu Mingyuan said.

"Deliver it? It's a dead thing without sentience. How can you deliver it?"

"It has resentment. Resentment is its sentience. If I complete its resentment, it will find peace."

Bai Ze did not object, for it knew Lu Mingyuan was right. Confrontation was useless; completion was the Righteous Path. This applied not only to the Gloom, but to all resentment. Resentment is a deficiency, and a deficiency must be filled. Once filled, the resentment dissipates. Once the resentment is gone, the hatred vanishes. Once the hatred is gone, there is peace.

Lu Mingyuan sat cross-legged in the Chaos before the Demon God's skeleton. He closed his eyes and circulated his Wanxiang True Qi. The Qi surged from his Dantian like a river, flowing toward the skeleton. The river was light, warmth, and restoration. When the river touched the skeleton, the black liquid began to melt. It didn't disappear; it transformed. Black became gray, gray became white, and white became gold.

The golden liquid flowed down from the skeleton into the Chaos and to Lu Mingyuan's feet. He felt a sensation he had never experienced before. It wasn't power, but Perfection. The Demon God's resentment was completed; its deficiency was filled. It found peace, no longer struggling, no longer hating, no longer lacking.

The skeleton began to glow. The light was faint, like a firefly. But it did not go out, for it was the final light of the Demon God. The Dao it couldn't find while alive was completed by a scholar after its death. It had hated for ten thousand years, resented for ten thousand years, and lacked for ten thousand years. Now, there was no more hate, no more resentment, and no more lack.

The skeleton shattered, turning into golden dust that scattered into the Chaos.

Lu Mingyuan stood up, looking at the golden dust with an indescribable feeling in his heart. It wasn't joy, nor was it sadness; it was Perfection. He had filled a deficiency, even if it was only one among the Three Thousand Demon Gods. But one is a start, an inch is progress, and a day is a step forward.

"You did it," Bai Ze said.

"It's not enough."

"But you've begun."

Lu Mingyuan nodded. He had begun—begun the path of completion within Chaos. This path was long, so long it had no end. But he was not afraid, for he had a lamp, he had light, and he had a heart. The lamp lit the path, the light illuminated the darkness, and the heart illuminated the deficiency.

He continued forward. Not hurried, not agitated, not obsessed. He walked slowly, steadily, and gently. Taking it step by step, day by day, year by year.

Behind him, the golden dust still drifted. As it drifted, it scattered. Once scattered, it was gone. Once gone, the Chaos became a little cleaner. A little cleaner, and the heavens could be mended a little more. Mended a little more, and the sentinels could return home a little sooner.

Deep in Chaos, and within his heart, that small tree was still growing. Thirty-three feet, thirty-four feet, thirty-five feet. It was very slow, like a snail's crawl. But it was growing—growing in Chaos, growing in resentment, growing on the path of completion. As it grows, it will eventually become large. Once large, it can support a greater sky, block more demons, and save more people.

That tree is called Xuan Shu. That tree is called Wanxiang. That tree is called Quasi-Saint. That tree is called Lu Mingyuan.

The oil lamp glowed in his hand, flickering like a heartbeat. That light was the only light in Chaos, very faint, like a firefly. But it did not go out, because Zhao Sanniang had given him her heart, and he had brought that heart into the Chaos. The Demon God's skeleton was completed, the golden dust had scattered, and the Chaos was a little cleaner.