32: Chapter 32 The Meaning of True Martial Arts

The next day at the hour of chen, in front of the Purple Cloud Hall.

The morning mist had not yet dispersed, and the seventy-two peaks were hidden in milky-white fog, with only the dark blue mountain tops visible, like immortal islands in the sea. The square in front of the hall had been swept clean, and the blue stone slabs were moist with dew, reflecting the hazy light of the sky.

Lu Mingyuan arrived on time. Today, he had changed into clean cloth clothes and held his green bamboo staff in his hand, quietly waiting for the test.

Zhao Shouzhen walked out from the hall, followed by two elderly Taoists. One was thin, with white hair tied in a Taoist bun, holding a scroll of an ancient map; the other was burly, with a face as red as a date, and an unsheathed iron sword hanging from his waist.

"Layman Lu, today's second test is on 'Comprehension Ability'." Zhao Shouzhen pointed to the ancient scroll. "This is a copy of Wudang Mountain's sect-protecting treasure, the 'Great Emperor Zhenwu's Demon Suppression Map'. It contains a trace of Great Emperor Zhenwu's Dao charm. You need to observe the map and comprehend the Dao within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, then speak of what you see, feel, and gain. If you can touch upon even the surface of the 'Intent of Zhenwu', you will pass."

The white-haired Taoist slowly unrolled the scroll.

The painting was ten feet high and six feet wide, the paper a faded ancient yellow, and the ink marks were already mottled. In the center of the painting, Great Emperor Zhenwu had disheveled hair and bare feet, wearing a black robe, his right hand pressing on a sword and his left hand forming a hand Seal, stepping on the two generals, Turtle and Snake. The background was the vast North Sea, with raging waves surging and countless demon shadows struggling and roaring in the waves. The Emperor's face was blurred, with only a pair of eyes being clear—it was not the indifference of a deity looking down on all living beings, but rather carried compassion, determination, and a sense of responsibility that said, 'Though there be ten thousand demons, I shall go.'

Lu Mingyuan concentrated on the map.

At first glance, it seemed to be just a magnificent painting of a deity suppressing demons. But when he immersed his mind into the map, everything around him began to fade—the square, the palace, the peaks, and even Zhao Shouzhen and the others all turned into nothingness.

He 'stood' inside the painting.

Beneath his feet was cold basalt, and before him was a roaring black ocean. The salty sea breeze blew against his face, mixed with the stench of demons. In the waves, countless deformed and twisted demons were crawling ashore—Yachas with three heads and six arms, flood dragon demons spitting poisonous fire, and fleshy monsters writhing like mountains... Destruction burned in their eyes, and wherever they passed, reefs turned to powder and seawater boiled.

And at the very front of the coastline, that figure with disheveled hair and a black robe faced the demon tide alone.

Great Emperor Zhenwu did not look back.

He simply walked forward step by step. With each step he took, golden patterns spread out from the rocks beneath his feet like a spider web, forming an indestructible barrier. The demon tide crashed against the golden patterns, emitting ear-piercing screeches, and the front row of demons shattered like they had hit a mountain.

But the demons were endless.

A hundred-zhang-long Nine-Headed Sea Snake broke through the golden patterns, its nine mouths simultaneously spitting venom, frost, and fire. Great Emperor Zhenwu formed a Seal with his left hand, and the phantom of the Big Dipper appeared behind him. Starlight fell, turning into seven swords of light that cut off the nine snake heads.

Then, flying demons filled the sky like dark clouds, blotting out the sun. The Emperor's right hand remained on his sword without drawing it; he only looked up, and the divine light in his eyes was like lightning. The swarm of flying demons was like meeting a blazing sun, vanishing into ash in an instant.

The battle lasted for an unknown amount of time.

Lu Mingyuan 'stood' at the edge of the battlefield, witnessing this heroic struggle of suppressing demons alone. He saw the Emperor's black robe soaked in demon blood, saw the golden patterns beneath his feet shatter and reform time and again, and saw that the compassion in those eyes never disappeared—even when facing the most hideous demons, that gaze still carried a sigh of 'it shouldn't have been this way.'

But Lu Mingyuan also saw something else.

Every strike of Great Emperor Zhenwu was not for 'slaughter,' but for 'suppression.' The sword light cutting the demons was not to annihilate them, but to strike their demonic nature back to its original form; the seven star Seal was not to imprison them, but to give them a chance to reform. Even those demons suppressed back into the sea were entwined with a faint golden Dao charm—that was the seed of salvation.

This was not simple conquest through force.

This was stopping conflict through martial force, proving the Dao through strength, suppressing demons through killing, and saving demons through the heart.

Lu Mingyuan's heart was shaken. He thought of the Black Water Marsh—his use of the 'Ultimate Stillness Talisman' to dismantle the Demon Puppets was essentially 'suppression' rather than 'destruction.' But compared to Great Emperor Zhenwu's Realm of balancing 'suppression' and 'salvation,' he was still far too behind.

The scene continued to progress.

The demon tide gradually receded, and the sea returned to calm. Great Emperor Zhenwu still stood on the shore, his black robe fluttering, his gaze fixed on the end of the deep sea. There, a dark red 'Rift' was slowly closing—it was so similar to The Rift in the Black Water Marsh, only ten million times larger.

The Emperor raised his hand and struck a talismanic Seal into The Rift.

That talismanic Seal was not a rune from Longhu Mountain, nor was it from any known system. It was extremely simple, just a horizontal and vertical line crossing, like the character for 'ten' or the character for 'man' standing tall between heaven and earth. But the will contained within it made Lu Mingyuan's Soul tremble—

It was 'Guardianship.'

To guard this sea, this land, this world, and all living beings within it. For this, one could suppress demons alone for ten thousand years; for this, one could stain their sword in a sea of blood without regret; for this, one could turn oneself into a barrier to eternally suppress the North Abyss.

"So that's how it is..." Lu Mingyuan murmured.

Wudang Mountain's 'entering the Dao through martial arts' was not entering the path of slaughter or conquest, but the 'Path of Guardianship.' The Intent of Zhenwu did not lie in how sharp the sword was or how strong the technique was, but in that heart of guardianship that said, 'Though there be ten thousand people, I shall go.'

The scene began to blur.

Lu Mingyuan came back to his senses and found himself still standing in front of the Purple Cloud Hall, his forehead covered in fine sweat. The 'Great Emperor Zhenwu's Demon Suppression Map' had been closed, and the white-haired Taoist was looking at him.

The incense had only burned halfway.

"The time is not yet up, and Layman Lu already has an insight?" Zhao Shouzhen asked.

Lu Mingyuan took a deep breath and spoke slowly: "What this Junior saw was not the power of one person suppressing demons, but the sincerity of a heart dedicated to guardianship."

He paused to organize his thoughts: "Every sword strike of Great Emperor Zhenwu was to block the demon calamity at the North Abyss and protect all living beings on the shore. The 'weight' of his martial path is not in the power of killing, but in the weight of responsibility. Stepping on the Turtle and Snake is suppression; pointing the sword at the demon tide is stopping it; the compassion in his eyes is salvation. Entering the Dao through martial arts is to 'stop conflict through martial force' and 'make guardianship the Dao'."

The burly Taoist suddenly spoke, his voice like muffled thunder: "Since you see guardianship, do you know how to guard?"

Lu Mingyuan thought of that simple talismanic Seal in the painting and his own experience drawing talismans, and a flash of inspiration hit him: "Guardianship requires a 'vessel'—swords, talismans, formations, and techniques are all vessels. But the root of the vessel lies in the 'Intent'. That talismanic Seal of Great Emperor Zhenwu was simple in form but deep in meaning because its intent was 'let this be the boundary, and demons shall not pass'. When I drew the 'Ultimate Stillness Talisman' in the Black Water Marsh, I initially only sought to calm the mind, but later used it to suppress demons; only then did I know that if a talisman contains the 'Intent of Guardianship', its power will multiply."

He became clearer as he spoke: "Wudang sword techniques emphasize 'Aura'. This 'Aura' is not just the weight of a mountain or the power of thunder, but the protective Aura of 'I am here, and this place shall not be encroached upon'. During the ten-man rotation at the Sword Gall Pass, what I felt was not killing intent, but a warning Aura of 'this mountain gate shall not be easily entered'. This is the true meaning of Wudang's martial path—to establish the heart through martial arts and guard the Dao through the heart."

The square fell into silence.

The three old Taoists looked at each other. The white-haired Taoist nodded slightly, the burly Taoist grinned, and Zhao Shouzhen stepped forward: "You pass."

He patted Lu Mingyuan's shoulder: "To be able to see the word 'Guardianship' within half an incense stick means you have already grasped the true essence of the Intent of Zhenwu. In the martial path, the world only sees the sharpness of 'martial arts' but not the compassion of the 'Dao'. It is good that you can see it."

"What about the third test?" Lu Mingyuan asked.

"The third test is not in a hurry," Zhao Shouzhen said. "First, stay at Wudang Mountain and practice basic sword techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and Internal Skill with the Disciples. When you truly integrate the 'Intent of Guardianship' into every move and style, the third test will naturally begin."

He paused and said meaningfully: "The third test is on 'Practicing the Dao'."

Lu Mingyuan bowed: "This Junior obeys."

That afternoon, Lu Mingyuan was arranged to stay in the third-generation Disciples' quarters, eating, living, and practicing with everyone. The curriculum started from the most basic 'Wudang Introductory Sword Manual.' He rose at the hour of mao and rested at the Hour of Hai every day, practicing the sword, standing in horse stance, meditating, and chanting sutras in a cycle.

On the practice field, he held a real iron sword for the first time—three feet and three inches long, weighing seven catties and two taels, the blade plain and unadorned. At first, his swings were clumsy, but through repeated hacking, piercing, lifting, and parrying, he gradually felt the 'breathing' of the sword.

It was a calm and steady pulse.

Just like Great Emperor Zhenwu standing on the coast of the North Abyss, unchanging for ten thousand years.

In the dead of night, Lu Mingyuan spread out talisman paper under the lamp. He wanted to try integrating the 'Aura of Guardianship' he had realized today into a talisman. Dipping his brush in ink, what he visualized in his heart was no longer the Concept of a poem, but that simple 'cross' talismanic Seal and the will of 'let this be the boundary' behind it.

The first one failed. The talisman paper spontaneously combusted.

The second one failed. The ink scattered.

The third one...

He stopped his brush and looked out the window. The night at Wudang Mountain was filled with stars hanging low over the plains, and all was quiet. In the distance, there was an eternal lamp on the Golden Summit, like an undying star.

He suddenly understood: he was too rushed.

The Intent of Zhenwu was a Dao charm settled over ten thousand years of solitary guarding. He had only glimpsed a tiny part of it and yet wanted to put it into a talisman; how arrogant.

"Let's learn the sword first," he whispered to himself, putting away the talisman paper.

The road was still long.

But the direction was now a bit clearer.