69: Chapter 69 The True Qi of All Things
Coming down from the back mountain, he saw Xuanweizi standing in the courtyard from afar.
The old man was sweeping the ground with a broom. He swept very slowly, stroke by stroke; the fallen leaves gathered into a pile, only to be scattered by the wind again. He was not annoyed and continued to sweep.
Lu Mingyuan walked to the courtyard gate and stopped.
After a hundred days, the ancient temple was still that same ancient temple. The old cypress tree was still crooked, the door of the Hall of the Three Pure Ones was still half-closed, and even the old well in the corner of the courtyard—the moss on its rim was still just as thick.
But he knew that he was no longer the same person he had been a hundred days ago.
Xuanweizi looked up and glanced at him.
"You're out?"
"I'm out."
"Sorted things out?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment and shook his head: "Not entirely."
Xuanweizi smiled. He leaned the broom against the old cypress tree and patted the dust off his hands.
"It's only right that you haven't. If you had, it would be time to go down the mountain."
He walked toward the east wing, saying without looking back, "Come in and have some tea."
The tea was still the same tea, the clay pot still the same clay pot.
Lu Mingyuan sat on a futon, holding a coarse bowl, looking at his reflection in the tea. The reflection wavered, unclear.
Xuanweizi didn't ask what he had realized during his seclusion, just slowly sipped his tea.
After three bowls, Lu Mingyuan spoke.
"This Disciple has a question."
"Mhm."
"After the heart becomes the Xuan Shu, where should one go?"
Xuanweizi put down his bowl and looked at him.
"You thought for a hundred days, and this is what you came up with?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
Xuanweizi was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked: "What were you doing before you came to Zhongnan Mountain?"
"Copying books in Heyin City."
"When you were copying books, did you ever think about the 'afterwards'?"
Lu Mingyuan was startled.
Back then... what he thought about every day was where his next meal would come from, whether the mountain floods would hit, and if he could finish copying that copy of the classic of mountains and seas. He never thought about the "afterwards" because it was too far away—so far that he didn't need to think about it.
"You didn't think about it then," Xuanweizi said, "so why think about it now?"
Lu Mingyuan was speechless.
Xuanweizi lifted the clay pot and refilled his tea.
"Because you've gone far, seen much, and know much. Knowing more makes you want more. After thinking about today, you think about tomorrow. After tomorrow, the day after. After that, you think about the 'afterwards'."
He put down the clay pot and looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"But cultivation is not practiced this way."
Lu Mingyuan listened quietly.
"Cultivation is like walking. When walking, do not think about the 'afterwards'. Those who think about the 'afterwards' cannot walk the path beneath their feet well. If you walk the path beneath your feet well, you will naturally know how to walk the 'afterwards'."
He paused and added:
"Those hundred days of yours were not spent in vain. Everything you sorted out is in your heart. Now, let them move."
Let them move?
Lu Mingyuan remembered the vortex in his Dantian on the thirtieth day of his seclusion. Those Talisman Intents, Sword Intents, Zen Intents, and Principles of Qi were all spinning in the vortex. But he had only been watching; he hadn't let them move.
They were moving on their own.
But Xuanweizi said, let them move.
He closed his eyes and looked inward at his Dantian.
The vortex was still there, rotating slowly. Those intents were in their respective places yet seemed to be in one place. Like mountain streams, they flowed separately but all toward the same direction.
He watched those streams and suddenly thought—
What if I make them flow a little faster?
As soon as the thought arose, a faint heat appeared in his Dantian.
Those streams really did speed up slightly.
He thought again—
What if I make them flow together?
The thought arose again, and his Dantian grew hotter. The streams began to draw closer to one another. Talisman Intent brushed against Sword Intent, Sword Intent entwined with Zen Intent, and Zen Intent wrapped around the Principles of Qi. Like several ropes twisting together.
He suddenly felt a bit nervous.
Can these things really be twisted together?
With a shift in thought, the heat in his Dantian suddenly dissipated. The streams separated again, each flowing its own way.
He opened his eyes and looked at Xuanweizi.
Xuanweizi was drinking tea, as if he hadn't seen anything.
"Afraid?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Of what?"
"Afraid they are... incompatible."
Xuanweizi laughed.
"Where did you hear that they are incompatible?"
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
Yes, where had he heard that?
No one had said it. He had assumed it himself.
The people of Longhu Mountain said talismans were good, but didn't say swords were bad. Those of Wudang Mountain said swords were good, but didn't say Zen was bad. Those of Shaolin said Zen was good, but didn't say logic was bad. Those of Yuelu said logic was good, but didn't say chivalry was bad.
No one had ever said they were incompatible.
It was he himself who had separated them in his heart.
Separated them clearly and distinctly. So much so that eventually, he forgot they were originally one.
He suddenly remembered that day at Mount Hua, seeing those swordsmen. Fast swords, slow swords, heavy swords, light swords, orthodox swords, eccentric swords, hard swords, soft swords—each had its own style, yet all were swords.
No one said fast swords and slow swords could not coexist.
No one said hard swords and soft swords could not be used together.
It was he himself who had separated them in his heart.
Separated them so much that he forgot a sword is simply a sword.
He closed his eyes and looked at his Dantian again.
The streams were still there, each flowing its own way. But the way he looked at them had changed.
They weren't Talisman Intent, Sword Intent, Zen Intent, or Principles of Qi.
They were water.
All water coming from the various schools and paths.
How much difference could there be between water and water?
He was no longer afraid.
As soon as the thought arose, his Dantian suddenly surged with heat.
Those streams accelerated violently, rushing in the same direction. Talisman Intent, Sword Intent, Zen Intent, Principles of Qi—and those indescribable things—all surged together, twisting into a single strand.
No, not twisting.
Merging.
Like snow melting into water, like water turning into mist, like mist condensing into clouds.
There was no longer any distinction.
He "watched" that mass of things in his Dantian—it was no longer a vortex, but a ball of light.
Within the light, there was everything, yet nothing.
There were the talismans of Longhu Mountain, but without the form of a talisman. There were the swords of Wudang Mountain, but without the shadow of a sword. There was the Zen of Shaolin, but without the Zen mechanism. There were the principles of Yuelu, but without the barrier of logic.
There were all the paths he had walked, all the people he had met, and all the questions he had pondered.
They were all within that ball of light.
That ball of light was his.
From head to toe, from inside to out, it was all his.
He opened his eyes and looked at Xuanweizi.
Xuanweizi was drinking tea, not even looking up.
"Success?"
"Success."
"What is it called?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
Wanxiang True Qi.
Those things all came from the myriad phenomena. Talismans, swords, Zen, principles, chivalry, skill—all were part of the myriad phenomena. He had merged them together, and so it became this.
All phenomena return to one Qi.
One Qi can manifest as myriad phenomena.
It shall be called Wanxiang True Qi.
Xuanweizi nodded and put down his teacup.
"Try it."
Lu Mingyuan reached out his hand, and with a thought—
A ball of light appeared in his palm.
The light wasn't large, only about the size of a walnut. But within that light, there were faint images of mountains and rivers, the sun, moon, and stars, plants and animals, and the mundane world.
He gave the light a gentle push; it drifted into the courtyard and landed on the old cypress tree.
The branches and leaves of the old cypress tree moved slightly.
It wasn't the wind. It was that ball of light that made it move.
It seemed to be saying—I know you. You've stood here for hundreds of years, seen so many people come and go, seen so many flowers bloom and fade. I know it all.
Lu Mingyuan withdrew the light and looked at his hand.
This light is alive.
Suddenly, the sky darkened.
It wasn't dark clouds obscuring the sun; the sky itself had darkened.
Lu Mingyuan looked up and saw a halo of light appear above the main peak of Zhongnan Mountain. The halo was iridescent, rotating slowly, growing larger and brighter.
In the center of the halo, a pillar of light shot straight into the clouds.
Within the pillar of light, myriad phenomena faintly appeared—mountains, water, people, beasts, plants, insects and fish, the sun, moon, and stars.
Cultivators within a hundred-mile radius all saw it.
At Longhu Mountain, Immortal Master Yu Shu stood before the Celestial Master Hall, gazing toward the Northwest, silent for a long time.
At Wudang Mountain, the Pavilion Keeper pushed open a window, looking at that soaring pillar of light, and murmured: "He succeeded."
At Mount Qingcheng, Perfected Master Changkong was on Wenjian Cliff; he stroked his beard and smiled: "After nine hundred years, someone has finally reached this step."
At Shaolin Temple, Zen Master Huijue was meditating in his room; he suddenly opened his eyes, smiled slightly, and closed them again.
At Yuelu Academy, an old gentleman who was giving a lecture stopped mid-sentence and looked out the window. Only after a long while did he say: "The younger generation is to be feared."
The phenomenon lasted for the time it takes an incense stick to burn before gradually dissipating.
Lu Mingyuan stood in the courtyard, motionless.
He didn't know what to say.
Xuanweizi, holding his teacup, slowly walked out of the east wing and stood beside him.
"Quite a commotion."
Lu Mingyuan smiled bitterly: "This Disciple... didn't do it on purpose."
Xuanweizi glanced at him and suddenly laughed.
"Purposeful or not, it's all the same. Once you've arrived, you've arrived; it cannot be hidden."
He took a sip of tea, looking at the sky as it gradually returned to calm.
"From today on, you have a place in this world."
Qingyuan poked his head out from the west wing, his face full of terror.
"What... what happened?"
He had been meditating in his room just now when suddenly the sky turned dark and a pillar of light shot up, scaring him so much he almost rolled off his bed.
Lu Mingyuan looked at him, not knowing how to explain.
Xuanweizi waved his hand: "It's nothing. Your Junior Martial Uncle was practicing, and the commotion was a bit loud."
Qingyuan widened his eyes, looking at Lu Mingyuan.
Junior Martial Uncle?
Practicing?
Commotion was a bit loud?
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Lu Mingyuan also felt a bit awkward.
Xuanweizi, however, acted as if nothing had happened and went back into his room with his teacup.
As he reached the door, he said without looking back:
"Starting tomorrow, teach your Martial Nephew a few moves. Don't scare him."
Lu Mingyuan looked at Qingyuan's still-terrified face and suddenly felt a bit of a headache.
How was he supposed to teach this?
Night fell.
Lu Mingyuan sat in his room, looking at the moonlight outside the window.
In his Dantian, that ball of light hung quietly. Warm and hot, like a small sun.
He knew that from today on, everything was different.
It wasn't that his cultivation was different—he was still at the Late Stage of Soul Transformation and hadn't broken through to a major Realm.
It was that his path was different.
His previous path was learned from others.
His current path was his own.
He closed his eyes, feeling the pulsation of that light.
Within the light were all the paths he had walked, all the people he had met, and all the questions he had pondered.
Those paths, those people, those questions—they had all become a part of him now.
He suddenly remembered Xuanweizi's words.
"Cultivation is like walking. If you walk the path beneath your feet well, you will naturally know how to walk the 'afterwards'."
He didn't know how to walk the "afterwards."
But he knew he had to teach Qingyuan a few moves tomorrow.
And the day after? He didn't know.
Then he wouldn't know.
Just walk tomorrow's path first.
Moonlight shone through the window, falling on him.
He sat motionless.
In his Dantian, that ball of light rotated slowly.
Like a heart.