206: Chapter 206 Demonstration of the Divine Path

The light of the Human Dao burned behind him, warm like an inextinguishable campfire. Carrying that warmth, Lu Mingyuan walked toward the fourth light.

That light was very special. It wasn't just one color, but many. Red, yellow, white, gold—interwoven like mist, like sunset clouds, like countless fireflies dancing in the night sky. Those were the colors of incense, of faith, and of the Power Of Will.

The Divine Dao.

Lu Mingyuan stood before the light, not rushing to look. First, he took a sniff—not with his nose, but with his heart. He smelled the scent of sandalwood drifting from ancient altars. He smelled the scent of burning joss paper drifting from before graves. He smelled the scent of rotting offerings drifting from temples. Those scents weren't pleasant, yet they were sincere. Because that was how humans offered their intentions to the gods—crude and simple, yet carrying a scalding temperature.

Within the light, the images began.

There was no heaven, no earth, only humans. People knelt on the ground, heads tilted back to gaze at the sky. There was nothing in the sky but clouds. Yet, humans felt there was something behind the clouds—something invisible and intangible, but present. It governed the wind, rain, thunder, and lightning; it governed birth, aging, sickness, and death; it governed misfortune and fortune, auspiciousness and calamity.

Humans feared it and also beseeched it. Fearing it would bring disaster, beseeching it to bestow blessings. Fearing its wrath, beseeching its appeasement. Fearing its forgetfulness, beseeching its remembrance.

That was the beginning of faith.

Lu Mingyuan watched those kneeling people with no contempt in his heart, only understanding. Because he knew that when humans are at their most helpless, they always want to grasp onto something. If they can't grasp the tangible, they grasp the ethereal. If they can't grasp the near, they grasp the far. If they can't grasp humans, they grasp gods. It wasn't weakness; it was instinct. The instinct to want to be protected, the instinct to want to be seen, the instinct to want to be remembered.

The images in the light continued to evolve. Humans began to build temples—not for the living to dwell in, but for the gods. The temples were tiny, as small as chicken coops. Yet inside were enshrined statues of gods, carved from wood with crude craftsmanship and indistinct features. But the people didn't care, because they believed.

Because they believed, they worshipped. Because they worshipped, they beseeched. Because they beseeched, they fulfilled their vows. Once the vows were fulfilled, they beseeched again. A cycle repeating, generation after generation.

That was incense.

Incense wasn't smoke; it was the heart. Humans ignited their hearts, burning them into smoke that drifted to the gods. When the gods smelled it, they knew someone was thinking of them. When many people thought of them, the gods became alive. Not truly alive, but alive in the hearts of the people. Being alive in the heart was enough. Because gods didn't need to truly exist; humans needed them to. They needed an object to entrust their feelings to, to confide in, and to rely upon.

Lu Mingyuan thought of those guarding the outposts in the Northwest. They didn't worship gods, but they had faith. Faith wasn't about believing in a specific god; it was about believing in a certain thing. Believing that Lu Mingyuan would return, believing that the dawn would come, believing that life would get better. That faith sustained them, allowing them to stand in the wind, keep watch in the darkness, and wait in despair.

Faith is power.

The images in the light changed. It was no longer individuals worshipping, but many people. Temple fairs, sacrificial ceremonies, dharma assemblies. Thousands upon thousands of people gathered together, burning incense, kowtowing, and chanting sutras. Their hearts were linked together, weaving a great net. The net was dense, dense enough to catch hope. The net was resilient, resilient enough to hold back despair.

Power Of Will.

The Power Of Will wasn't the strength of one person, but the strength of many. One person's will was tiny, like a firefly. But when the wills of many gathered, they became a sun. When the sun shone into the darkness, the darkness retreated. When it shone into the cold, the cold became warm. When it shone into despair, despair found hope.

Lu Mingyuan suddenly understood why gods needed incense. It wasn't because gods were greedy, but because incense was their sustenance. Only by consuming incense did gods have the power to protect all living beings. Only by offering incense did all living beings have the confidence to face life. They were interdependent; neither could exist without the other.

The images in the light continued to evolve. The gods responded to the people's prayers, sending down sweet rain, dispersing plagues, and defeating enemies. The people believed even more, and the incense grew more prosperous. The gods grew stronger, providing more protection. A virtuous cycle, endless and self-sustaining.

But there were also times of vicious cycles. If the gods didn't respond, the people stopped believing. When the people stopped believing, the incense was cut off. When the incense was cut off, the gods weakened. When the gods weakened, protection diminished. When protection diminished, the people believed even less. A vicious cycle, until the gods were forgotten by humans.

A forgotten god is a dead god.

Lu Mingyuan thought of Daoist Songyun. He wasn't a god, but his Dao had nearly been forgotten. For nine hundred years, no one had answered his lingering question. His Dao was waiting, waiting for someone who could receive it. Since Lu Mingyuan had received it, Songyun's life wasn't in vain. It was the same for gods; if they were remembered by people, their death wasn't in vain.

He bowed deeply toward the incense-colored light. He wasn't worshipping a god, but worshipping humanity. Worshipping those who believe, those who beseech, and those who fulfill their vows. They used incense to uphold every god, and the gods repaid them with protection. Divine Being and human coexist; the Dao lies within.

The images in the light stopped. The Divine Dao had demonstrated all it needed to; the rest was for him to comprehend on his own.

Lu Mingyuan closed his eyes, savoring everything he had just seen. Incense, faith, Power Of Will. Three keywords interwoven within the Divine Dao. Incense is the burning of the heart, faith is the entrustment of the heart, and the Power Of Will is the convergence of hearts. Burning oneself, entrusting to others, and converging into light.

Inside his Dantian, that tree was still growing. Ten zhang and one foot, ten zhang and two feet. It wasn't a sudden surge, but a slow growth. The patterns on the trunk gained a new color—incense-colored, ethereal like mist. Yet within that ethereality was power, power that came from the Power Of Will. The Power Of Will came from all living beings, and all living beings came from the Human Dao.

Bai Ze watched the tree without speaking. It knew Lu Mingyuan was comprehending. Comprehending the Dao required silence, and silence required being undisturbed. The kitten had also woken up, squatting on Lu Mingyuan's shoulder, curiously watching the light. It didn't understand the Divine Dao, but it felt the warmth within the light. The Divine Dao wasn't cold; it was warm. So warm it made one want to close their eyes and lean against it.

Lu Mingyuan opened his eyes and looked at the light of the Divine Dao. The light was still there, not extinguished. It would stay lit until the very last god was forgotten. But gods would not be forgotten, because humans needed them. When there is a need, they will remember. Once remembered, they will not forget.

He reached out his hand, wanting to touch the light. Halfway there, he stopped. It wasn't out of fear, but lack of haste. He wanted to finish seeing the other three lights first, then integrate everything together.

He didn't withdraw his hand, leaving it extended before the incense-colored light. The light warmed his hand, a temperature like that in front of an incense burner. Countless people knelt before incense burners, eyes closed, murmuring under their breaths. They weren't chanting sutras, but their heart's desires. The desires were tiny, concerning only a single household. But they were so real that even the gods could not bear to refuse them.

Lu Mingyuan thought of Zhao Sanniang's oil lamp. That wasn't incense, but its nature was the same. She had ignited her heart, burning it into light to illuminate his path. That wasn't faith in a god, but faith in a person. Faith that he would return, faith that he could manage the Mending the Heavens, faith that he would not fail that lamp.

Faith is a lamp. When the lamp is lit, the path is lit.

He took a deep breath and withdrew his hand. Then he sat down, crossing his legs before the incense-colored light. Closing his eyes, he replayed the Divine Dao he had just seen in his mind. Incense, faith, Power Of Will. Every word turned into a picture, and every picture turned into a person. Those people kowtowing in temples, burning paper before graves, making wishes before divine statues. They weren't Saints, but they had a pious heart.

Piety is the Dao.

Lu Mingyuan suddenly smiled. He had realized another side of the Divine Dao: connection. Incense connected humans with gods, faith connected heart with heart, and the Power Of Will connected you, me, and them. The Divine Dao wasn't for making people kneel; it was for making them stand. To stand, reach out, and connect with others. Once connected, one is no longer lonely. No longer lonely, one is no longer afraid. No longer afraid, one can move forward.

He stood up and bowed deeply to the light of the Divine Dao. Grateful to those who believe in gods, giving gods a reason to exist. Grateful to those gods believed in by humans, giving humans the courage to persevere.

The seven lights were still shining, with the light of the Divine Dao being the most ethereal. But the other lights were not weak either; they waited for Lu Mingyuan to see, to comprehend, and to integrate.

Lu Mingyuan didn't rush to see the fifth light. He sat down and continued to digest. The Divine Dao was too distant, so distant it required the heart to reach it. But there was no distance within Chaos; where the heart can reach is nearby. No haste, no impatience, no attachment. Comprehending slowly, steadily, and gently.

The oil lamp glowed before him, its wick flickering. The green lotus fragment and the axe blade fragment lay beside the oil lamp, one green and one gold. The three lights and the light of the Divine Dao converged, illuminating his face. His expression was calm, but his eyes were bright—bright like incense. That incense wasn't smoke; it was the heart.

Bai Ze looked into his eyes, a nameless feeling in its heart. This scholar never worshipped gods. He didn't believe in gods, yet he understood them. Someone who understands gods is closer to the divine than someone who merely worships them. Because of understanding, there is no need to worship. Worship is distance; understanding is the absence of distance.

The kitten let out a yawn and closed its eyes again. It didn't care about any Divine Dao; as long as it had a place to squat and someone to accompany it, that was enough. But it didn't know that the place it was squatting was Lu Mingyuan's shoulder. On Lu Mingyuan's shoulder, there was the scent of incense. Not real incense, but the scent of the heart. A single petal of heart-incense is better than ten thousand sticks of sandalwood.

“Finished watching the Divine Dao?” Bai Ze asked.

“Finished.”

“Understood it?”

“Understood a part of it. The rest, I'll understand slowly over time.”

“That's enough. The Dao isn't something that can be fully understood in one go. Once you understand, you can walk. As you walk, you'll understand more.”

Lu Mingyuan nodded. He stood up, preparing to see the fifth light. This time, his steps were light, because his heart was filled with connection. Connection is the bridge from humans to gods, and also the path from gods to humans. While the bridge and the path exist, one need not fear losing their way.