210: Chapter 210 Integration and Mastery
The seven lights vanished—not extinguished, but merged. They merged into his body, into his Meridians, and into his Dantian.
Lu Mingyuan sat within the Chaos, his body emitting light. Seven colors intertwined like a rainbow, yet unlike one. A rainbow has distinct divisions; red is red, blue is blue. The light on his body was blended: blue within red, yellow within blue, white within yellow, and black within white. One could not distinguish where one ended and another began, yet every single one was present.
The Chaos flowed around him like a river. The river was not wide, but it was very long. It was so long it had no end, and its source could not be seen. It simply flowed, from the past toward the future, and from the future back to the past. It had no direction, yet it was flowing.
Bai Ze crouched on his shoulder, motionless. It did not dare move for fear of disturbing him. It had followed him for so long, from the East Sea to the Northwest, from the Northwest to Zixiao, and from Zixiao into the Chaos. It had seen him injured, seen him weep, seen his anger, and seen him smile. But it had never seen him like this. Sitting in the Chaos, body glowing, he looked like a Buddha, yet was not a Buddha. A Buddha is static; he was dynamic. The movement was not of the body, but of the heart. As his heart beat, the light flashed. As the light flashed, the Dao flowed.
The kitten also woke up, crouching on his shoulder and tilting its head to look at him. It did not understand things like 'comprehensive mastery,' but it felt his change. His breathing had changed, becoming slower, deeper, and more even. Between each inhalation and exhalation, the Chaos rose and fell in rhythm. When he exhaled, the Chaos expanded. When he inhaled, the Chaos contracted. Expanding and contracting, contracting and expanding, like a beating heart.
The Chaos had come alive.
Lu Mingyuan closed his eyes, looking inward at his Dantian. That tree was now thirty zhang tall. Its trunk was so thick that ten men could not link arms around it, and its canopy was so vast it covered the entire sky of his Dantian. Its roots reached the bottom of the Dantian, pierced through it, and plunged into the Chaos. The Chaos was the soil, and within the soil were nutrients. The nutrients were the Seven Paths, and the Seven Paths were the roots.
The seven types of patterns on the trunk remained, but they were no longer distinct. The golden Heavenly Dao, the earthy-yellow Earthly Dao, the fiery-red Mortal Dao, the incense-colored Divine Dao, the cyan Immortal Dao, the colorless Buddhist Dao, and the black Demonic Path. The seven colors were intertwined, each containing the others. One could not distinguish which path was Heaven and which was Earth. Yet they were not in Chaos; what was chaotic was the color, while the order remained undisturbed.
That order was called Xuan Shu.
Lu Mingyuan suddenly opened his eyes. There was no light in his eyes—not because he could no longer see, but because it was no longer needed. The light was in his heart, his heart was in the Dao, and the Dao was in the Chaos. The Chaos was the light, and the light was the Chaos.
“Bai Ze, I understand now.”
“What do you understand?”
“The Seven Paths return to a single flow. It's not about merging the seven paths into one, but seeing that they were originally one. Within the Heavenly Dao is the Earthly Dao, within the Earthly Dao is the Mortal Dao, within the Mortal Dao is the Divine Dao, within the Divine Dao is the Immortal Dao, within the Immortal Dao is the Buddhist Dao, within the Buddhist Dao is the Demonic Path, and within the Demonic Path is the Heavenly Dao once more. It cycles and repeats, starting over and over. It is not seven paths, but one. It is not one path, but countless paths. Countless paths all come from Chaos, and all must return to Chaos.”
Bai Ze did not speak, for words were unnecessary. It looked into his eyes and knew he had attained enlightenment. It wasn't the kind of enlightenment that comes from a flash of inspiration, but the kind that comes from water dripping through stone. Drop by drop, dripping for who knows how many years, until it finally pierced the rock. Once the rock was pierced, the water flowed through. Once the water flowed through, it could never be stopped again.
Lu Mingyuan stood up within the Chaos. The light on his body grew brighter, the seven colors no longer distinct, merging into a single hue. It was a hazy gray, like the Chaos itself. Yet within that gray were all colors, just as within the Chaos are all possibilities.
He reached out and pushed forward. His hand pressed against the Chaos, and the Chaos did not move. But he felt it; the Chaos was responding to him. It wasn't being pushed; it was being influenced. There was Dao in his hand, and as the Dao transmitted to the Chaos, the Chaos began to change. The hazy gray mist dispersed slightly, and light appeared where it cleared. It was not a seven-colored light, but a transparent light. Like water, like air, as if it didn't exist.
That was the Origin of Chaos.
Lu Mingyuan withdrew his hand and looked at that light. The light was tiny, small as a firefly. But it would not be extinguished, for it was born from the Chaos. Chaos gives birth to light, and light gives birth to all things. All things return to one, and the one returns to Chaos.
“All Methods Return to the Origin,” Lu Mingyuan said.
“All Methods Return to the Origin,” Bai Ze repeated.
The kitten gave a meow. It didn't understand 'All Methods Return to the Origin,' but it felt warm. The light on Lu Mingyuan was warm, shining on it like a winter sun. It gave a yawn and closed its eyes again.
Lu Mingyuan smiled. He smiled not because he was happy, but because he understood. He understood that All Methods Return to the Origin is not about gathering ten thousand methods into one, but seeing that ten thousand methods were originally one. One method gives birth to ten thousand, and ten thousand return to the source. The source is not a specific path; it is the Chaos, it is the heart. The heart is the Xuan Shu of all methods; the 'Shu' is the door's axis. The axis does not move while the door opens and closes. When the heart is still, all methods naturally return.
Inside his Dantian, that tree grew again. Not in height, but in girth. Thirty zhang was tall enough; it didn't need to be taller. What it needed was thickness—thick enough to prop up the heavens and stabilize the earth. The trunk went from needing ten men to encircle it to needing a hundred. The roots plunged from the Dantian into the Chaos, and the canopy extended from the Dantian out of his body.
There were flowers on the canopy—not one, but countless. Every flower was a path: the Heavenly Dao, Earthly Dao, Mortal Dao, Divine Dao, Immortal Dao, Buddhist Dao, Demonic Path, and countless other unnamed paths. Flowers bloomed and withered, and having withered, they bloomed again. Cycling and repeating, an endless cycle of life.
That was All Methods Return to the Origin.
Lu Mingyuan took a deep breath, and the Chaos breathed with him. He exhaled, and the Chaos exhaled with him. Within the exhaled breath was light, within the light was the Dao, and within the Dao were all things. All things are born in Chaos, grow in Chaos, and perish in Chaos. Having perished, they are reborn. Having been reborn, they perish again.
He suddenly remembered Xuanweizi's words: “Cultivation is walking a path. Walk the path beneath your feet well, and you will naturally know how to proceed afterward.”
He had walked—from Heyin City to Zhongnan Mountain, from Zhongnan Mountain to the Three Mountains, Three Temples, Three Courtyards, and Three Sects, from the Three Teachings to the secrets of the Primordial Era, from the Primordial Era to the Zixiao Discourse on the Dao, from Zixiao to the fires of the Great Tribulation, and from the Great Tribulation to seeking the truth in the Chaos. Every step was planted in the mud, yet every step bloomed with flowers. The flowers bloomed and withered, but the seeds remained. The seeds fell into the soil and grew into new flowers.
Generation after generation, life without end.
That was the Legacy.
Lu Mingyuan sat cross-legged within the Chaos. The light on his body slowly retracted, pulling into his body, into his Meridians, and into his Dantian. On the tree in his Dantian, the flowers, leaves, and branches also retracted. They were retracted, not gone; they were hidden. Hidden within the trunk, hidden within the roots beneath the ground. Hidden, waiting to be released when needed. To be released is for the flowers to bloom. For the flowers to bloom is for the Dao to manifest.
He closed his eyes, inspecting his cultivation. The Peak of Quasi-Saint Perfection—he was only a thin sheet of paper away from becoming a Saint. That paper was very thin, so thin it could be pierced with a single poke. But he was in no hurry to pierce it, for he wanted to wait. Wait until the water formed a channel, wait until the fruit was ripe enough to fall, wait until it happened naturally.
It wasn't that he couldn't achieve it, but that he didn't want to force it. Forced fruit is not sweet; a forced Dao is not stable. He wanted stability—stable enough that the wind could not topple it and the rain could not skew it. Only when stable could he prop up the heavens. Only by propping up the heavens could he succeed in Mending the Heavens.
Bai Ze looked at him, light in its eyes. That light was gratification, emotion, and admiration. It had lived for tens of thousands of years and seen countless Cultivators. But it had never seen one like this. He had seen that the seven paths shared a source, realized that All Methods Return to the Origin, and was only a sheet of paper away from being a Saint. Yet he was in no hurry to pierce it; he wanted to wait. Waiting was not procrastination, but preparation. Preparation was not for the sake of becoming a Saint, but so that after becoming a Saint, he could mend the heavens.
The kitten rolled over, belly to the sky and four legs curled. it slept soundly, deeply, and sweetly. It did not know Lu Mingyuan was about to become a Saint; it only knew it was warm here and it had company. That was enough.
Lu Mingyuan reached out and stroked the kitten's belly; it was soft and warm. He smiled—a very light, faint, and warm smile.
“Bai Ze.”
“Mm.”
“How much further to becoming a Saint?”
“A sheet of paper.”
“Is that paper thick?”
“So thin it's invisible. But thin is harder to pierce than thick, because it's invisible. If you can't see it, you don't know where to poke.”
“Then I won't poke. I'll wait for the paper to break on its own.”
“Paper won't break on its own.”
“It will. When the water forms the channel, the paper will break itself. When the fruit is ripe, the stem will fall itself. When the Dao is complete, the Saintly Position will come itself.”
Bai Ze did not speak. Because it knew Lu Mingyuan was right. What is sought by force is never as good as what comes naturally; only what comes naturally is truly one's own. Only what is one's own is real, and only what is real can be used.
Lu Mingyuan stood up and looked at the Chaos. The Chaos was still the same Chaos—hazy gray and containing nothing. But he was different. When he arrived, the Chaos was the Chaos and he was himself. Now, the Chaos was him and he was the Chaos. It wasn't a merger, but a connection. Once connected, there is no distinction between self and other. When there is no distinction, that is the Dao.
He set off, continuing forward. Not hurried, not agitated, not attached. Walking slowly, walking steadily, walking lightly.
Behind him, the seven lights no longer shone, for they were in his heart. With light in his heart, everywhere he walked was bright.
The oil lamp glowed in his hand, its wick flickering. The green lotus fragment and the axe blade fragment glowed in his robes, one cyan and one gold. The three lights merged with the light on his body, illuminating the Chaos. That light was very bright, bright as the sun. A sun rising within the Chaos, illuminating the hazy gray mist.
The mist dispersed a little, revealing a path. The path was not wide, but it was very long. So long it had no end, and its starting point could not be seen. But he knew where the starting point was: it was in Heyin City, on Zhongnan Mountain, in Xuanweizi's ancient temple. The end was in the Northwest, at Mount Buzhou, by the side of those sentries.
He had to go back, carrying his realization of the Seven Paths, carrying the wisdom of All Methods Return to the Origin, and carrying his cultivation at the Peak of Quasi-Saint Perfection. Go back, and mend the heavens.