208: Chapter 208 Demonstration of Buddhism and Taoism

The light of the Immortal Dao shone behind him, as azure as the sky and as faint as the wind. Lu Mingyuan, carrying that realization of return, walked toward the sixth light.

That light was very special. It was not one color, nor was it many colors; it was colorless. Being colorless did not mean it was invisible; it meant that all colors were visible within it. Because it was colorless, it could encompass all colors. Just like water, which has no taste and thus can contain all flavors. Just like the heart, which has no shape and thus can hold all forms.

That was the Buddhist Dao.

Lu Mingyuan stood before the colorless light, not in a rush to look. He first emptied his heart, setting aside the Heavenly Dao, Earthly Dao, Human Dao, Divine Dao, and Immortal Dao he had previously realized. It wasn't that he forgot them, but that he temporarily cleared them out. Only when cleared could something new be held. Only when filled could everything be integrated and mastered.

Within the light, the images began.

There was no heaven, no earth, only a person. The person sat beneath a tree, no longer walking, no longer flying, but simply sitting. He sat for seven days and seven nights, without eating or drinking, without moving or speaking. What was he doing? He was thinking. Thinking about why people suffer, where suffering comes from, and how to not suffer.

That person was named Siddhartha, and he later became a Buddha.

Lu Mingyuan looked at the person sitting under the tree; his heart held no worship, only respect. For he knew that sitting was harder than walking. In walking, there are sights to see, sounds to hear, and a path to follow. In sitting, there is nothing but oneself. Facing oneself is the most difficult cultivation.

The images in the light continued to evolve. Siddhartha opened his eyes; he had attained enlightenment. He realized the Four Noble Truths: Suffering, Origin, Cessation, and the Path. Life is suffering, suffering comes from origin, there is a way to cease suffering, and the path lies in the Eightfold Righteousness. It wasn't something others told him; it was something he realized himself. Only what is realized by oneself is true.

That is wisdom.

Wisdom is not read from books; it grows from the heart. After reading a book, one must digest it. After digesting, one must absorb it. After absorbing, it must become one's own. Only when it becomes one's own is it wisdom. What belongs to others is merely knowledge.

Lu Mingyuan recalled his days of discussing the Dao at Zixiao Palace. The Saints asked him questions, and he answered them one by one. The answers were not memorized from books; they were walked from the path. Having walked the path, he knew. Knowing, he could answer. What he answered was wisdom.

The images in the light changed. It was no longer just Siddhartha alone, but many people. They followed Siddhartha, listening to him teach the Dharma. Siddhartha held nothing back, speaking all that he had realized. He spoke of suffering, of origin, of cessation, and of the path. He spoke clearly and plainly, so that even the illiterate could understand.

That is compassion.

Compassion is not sympathy; it is action. Sympathy is feeling distress in the heart; action is reaching out to help. Siddhartha could have attained liberation for himself, entering Nirvana alone. He did not; he stayed and taught the Dharma for forty-nine years. He ferried countless people, helped countless people, and saved countless people.

Lu Mingyuan thought of what he had done in the Northwest. Moving the commoners, setting up barriers, and converting demonic generals. That was not for himself, but for others. For those strangers among the populace, for those brothers guarding the outposts, for those people waiting for his return. If that was not compassion, what was?

The images in the light continued to evolve. Siddhartha grew old and ill; he was about to depart. His Disciples surrounded him, weeping. He said, "Do not weep. All conditioned things are impermanent, All phenomena are without self, and Nirvana is stillness. I am leaving, but the Dharma remains. As long as the Dharma is here, I am here."

Having said this, he closed his eyes and entered Nirvana.

That is liberation.

Liberation is not death; it is no longer being bound. Bound by Greed, anger, and ignorance; bound by birth, old age, sickness, and death; bound by love, hate, and emotional entanglements. Once unfastened and cast off, one is at ease. Ease is not in the distance; it is in the present. Letting go in the present is being at ease in the present. Being at ease in the present is liberation in the present.

Lu Mingyuan thought of the path of transcendence he would take in the future. Transcendence is not leaving the world; it is returning to the world. It is not discarding the body, but returning the body to the earth. It is not discarding the Primordial Spirit, but scattering the Primordial Spirit into the clear breeze. Letting go of it does not mean it is gone; it means existing on a grander scale.

That is transcendence, and it is also liberation. The Buddhist Dao calls it liberation, the Immortal Dao calls it transcendence, and the Xuan-shu Path calls it going home. Different names, same meaning.

He bowed deeply toward the colorless light. He was not worshipping Buddha, but worshipping the Dao. Worshipping the man who sat under the tree, worshipping those who followed him, and worshipping those who passed down the Dharma. They proved with their lives that wisdom is possible, compassion is possible, and liberation is possible.

The images in the light stopped. The Buddhist Dao had performed all it needed to perform; the rest was for him to realize on his own.

Lu Mingyuan closed his eyes, savoring everything he had just seen. Wisdom, compassion, liberation. Three keywords interwoven within the Buddhist Dao. Wisdom is not cleverness, but seeing through. Compassion is not soft-heartedness, but action. Liberation is not running away, but letting go.

In his Dantian, that tree grew a bit more. One hundred and five feet, one hundred and six feet. It wasn't tall, but it was enough. 'Enough' didn't mean it had reached the end, but that it had reached a node. At this node, the patterns on the tree trunk gained a new color. Colorless—not the absence of color, but the sight of all colors.

Bai Ze looked at the tree, a light in its eyes. It knew that Lu Mingyuan was one step closer to becoming a Saint. Not a step closer in cultivation, but a step closer in state of mind. When the heart is close, the Dao is close. When the Dao is close, attainment is not far off.

The kitten woke up, licked its paws, and closed its eyes again. It did not understand the Buddhist Dao, but it understood being at ease. Being at ease meant not being disturbed, not being hungry, and not being cold. That was the cat's Buddhist Dao, the cat's wisdom, and the cat's liberation.

Lu Mingyuan opened his eyes and looked toward the light of the Buddhist Dao. The light was still there, unextinguished. It would keep shining until the last sentient being was liberated. But not all sentient beings would be liberated, because not everyone wants to be. For those who do not wish it, even a Buddha will not force them. Not forcing is also compassion.

He reached out his hand, wanting to touch that light. Halfway there, his hand stopped. It wasn't that he didn't dare, but that he was not in a hurry. He would first finish seeing the final path, then integrate them all together.

He did not withdraw his hand, but kept it extended before the colorless light. The light was neither cold nor hot, neither light nor heavy, neither hurried nor slow. That was the temperature of the Buddhist Dao, the weight of the Buddhist Dao, and the rhythm of the Buddhist Dao.

Lu Mingyuan recalled his days at the Shaolin Temple. Zen Master Huijue had said, "Snow simply falls." Snow simply falls; it doesn't fall because you are there, and it doesn't stop because you are not. Coming and going according to fate, staying or leaving without intent. That was the ease of the Buddhist Dao, and also the ordinariness of the Xuan-shu Path.

He took a deep breath and withdrew his hand. Then he sat down, crossing his legs before the colorless light. Closing his eyes, he reviewed the Buddhist Dao he had just seen in his mind. Wisdom, compassion, liberation. Each word became a picture, and each picture became a person. Those people sat under trees, walked on roads, and preached by rivers. They were Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and Arhats. But once, they were human.

A human becoming a Buddha is not a change of body, but a change of heart. When the heart is large, it can hold all sentient beings. When the heart is soft, it can let go of oneself. When the heart is empty, it can hold everything.

Lu Mingyuan suddenly smiled. He realized another side of the Buddhist Dao: ordinariness. Wisdom is not mysterious; it is ordinary. Seeing a flower bloom and knowing spring has come—that is wisdom. Compassion is not grand; it is ordinary. Giving a bowl of rice to the hungry and a garment to the cold—that is compassion. Liberation is not miraculous; it is ordinary. Letting go of what is in one's hand and picking up what should be carried—that is liberation.

Ordinariness is the Dao.

He remembered what Xuanweizi had said: "Cultivation is walking." Walking is ordinariness, and ordinariness is walking. No flying, no jumping, no running. Step by step, walking steadily. Walk long enough, and you will go far. Go far enough, and you will return. Once returned, you no longer leave.

He stood up and bowed deeply to the light of the Buddhist Dao. He was grateful to the man who sat under the tree for showing the world the appearance of wisdom. Grateful to those who followed behind for showing the world the appearance of compassion. Grateful to those who passed down the Dharma for showing the world the appearance of liberation.

The seven lights were still shining, and the light of the Buddhist Dao was the most inclusive. But the final light was not weak either; it was waiting for Lu Mingyuan to see, to realize, and to integrate.

Lu Mingyuan was in no rush to see the seventh light. He sat down and continued to digest. The Buddhist Dao was so vast it could hold all sentient beings. But within Chaos, there was infinite space that could hold the Buddhist Dao. No rush, no impatience, no attachment. Realizing slowly, realizing steadily, realizing gently.

The oil lamp shone 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 converged with the light of the Buddhist Dao, illuminating his face. His expression was very calm, but his eyes were very bright. Bright like the eyes of a Buddha, seeing through everything yet not speaking it all. To speak it all would be meaningless. Only by not speaking it all is there room for realization.

Bai Ze looked into his eyes, feeling an indescribable touch in its heart. This scholar did not worship Buddha, yet he understood Buddha. One who understands Buddha is closer to Buddha than one who worships. Because of understanding, there is no need to worship. Worship is distance; understanding is the absence of distance.

The kitten stretched, changed its posture, and continued sleeping. It didn't care about the Buddhist Dao or anything else; as long as it had a place to crouch and someone to accompany it, that was enough. But it did not know that the place it crouched was Lu Mingyuan's shoulder. On Lu Mingyuan's shoulder was the temperature of the Buddhist Dao. Neither cold nor hot, neither light nor heavy, neither hurried nor slow. That was the temperature of compassion, the temperature of wisdom, and the temperature of liberation.

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

“Finished.”

“Understood it?”

“I understood a part of it. The rest, I will slowly understand later.”

“That is enough. The Dao cannot be fully understood all at once; once you understand, you can walk. As you walk, you will understand more.”

Lu Mingyuan nodded. He stood up, preparing to see the seventh light. This time, he walked very steadily, because his heart was filled with ordinariness. Ordinariness is the essence of the Buddhist Dao, and also the essence of the Xuan-shu Path. The essence is the same, though the paths are different. Different, yet the destination is the same.

He walked toward the seventh light, toward the Demonic Path.