72: Chapter 72 The Path of the Dao Begins
In the early morning, Lu Mingyuan pushed open his door.
In the courtyard, Xuanweizi was sweeping the floor. It was still that same broken broom and those same fallen leaves. After a night of strange phenomena, it was as if nothing had happened.
Qingyuan was squatting by the well drawing water. Seeing Lu Mingyuan come out, he hurriedly stood up and bowed.
"Good morning, Junior Martial Uncle."
Lu Mingyuan nodded and walked to the old cypress tree, watching Xuanweizi sweep.
He swept very slowly. Stroke by stroke, the fallen leaves gathered into a pile. When the wind blew, they scattered again. He wasn't annoyed and just continued sweeping.
Lu Mingyuan watched for a long time, then suddenly asked:
"Master, your Disciple has a question."
"Mhm."
"They scatter as soon as you sweep them, and you sweep them again after they scatter. Why not change to a place without wind?"
Xuanweizi stopped his broom and looked at him.
"Are there fallen leaves in a place without wind?"
Lu Mingyuan was taken aback.
"Where there is wind, there are fallen leaves. Without wind, the leaves stay on the trees and do not fall. If you want to sweep leaves, you must sweep where there is wind. Scattering after sweeping and sweeping after scattering is inherently part of sweeping the floor."
He continued sweeping.
Lu Mingyuan stood there, lost in thought.
Qingyuan walked over carrying a bucket and whispered, "Junior Martial Uncle, what is Grand-Uncle Master talking about?"
Lu Mingyuan glanced at him.
"He is talking about cultivation."
Qingyuan scratched his head. "Sweeping is cultivation?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Sweeping is cultivation."
After breakfast, Xuanweizi called Lu Mingyuan to the east wing.
The tea was already brewed, and two bowls of coarse tea were placed on a low table. Outside, the shadow of the old cypress tree fell on the window paper, swaying gently.
Lu Mingyuan sat on a prayer mat and waited for Xuanweizi to speak.
Xuanweizi picked up the tea bowl and took a slow sip.
"You have reached Body Integration."
"Yes."
"Your Wanxiang True Qi is also complete."
"Yes."
"Your Primordial Spirit and Physical Body have also integrated."
"Yes."
Xuanweizi put down the tea bowl and looked at him.
"Then what is the name of your Dao?"
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
A name for his Dao?
He had never thought about this question.
For five years, he had been walking, comprehending, and cultivating. He had Wanxiang True Qi, the integration of Primordial Spirit and Physical Body, and the realization that 'the mind is the mysterious pivot'. But he had never considered what name this path should have.
Xuanweizi looked at him and said slowly:
"Without a name, there are no roots. Without roots, it is hard to endure. The Dao can be nameless, but a cultivator cannot fail to know what their own Dao is called."
Lu Mingyuan was silent for a long time.
What should it be called?
Call it the Dao of the Mind? Too broad. Of all the world's myriad methods, which one is separate from the mind?
Call it the Dao of All Methods Returning to the Source? Too long. Besides, the 'source' they return to is the mind, not the Dao itself.
Call it...
He suddenly remembered what the The Palace Guardian Taoist had said that day at Mount Hua.
"The Dao of the Sword is not in the sword, but in the mind."
He also remembered Perfected Master Changkong's instructions that day at Mount Qingcheng.
"When the mind is open, all methods are open."
He remembered Zen Master Huijue's guidance that day at Shaolin.
"Every step is a question, and what is questioned is the mind."
He remembered the debate with the student of the School of Mind at White Deer Grotto.
"Nothing exists outside the mind; Mind is Principle."
He thought of every Breakthrough, every Epiphany, and every confusion over these past five years—in the end, they all came back to those four words.
The mind is the mysterious pivot.
He looked up at Xuanweizi.
"Master, my Dao is called the 'Xuan-shu Path'."
A gleam of light flashed in Xuanweizi's eyes.
"Why call it Xuan Shu?"
Lu Mingyuan said slowly:
"The pivot is the door's axis. The door opens and closes, but the pivot does not move. Yet the pivot is connected to the door, and the door to heaven and earth. The mind is that pivot. All methods come from the mind, and all methods return to the mind. If the mind is still, the myriad methods return of their own accord. If the mind moves, the myriad methods arise naturally."
He paused and then added:
"'Xuan' means deep, far, and immeasurable. The depths of the mind are such that one cannot even see through oneself. But even if one cannot see through it, one must still look. Walking while looking, looking while walking. One day, I will see through it."
Xuanweizi nodded.
"Xuan-shu Path. A good name."
He picked up the tea bowl and took a sip.
"From today onwards, your Dao has been established."
The Dao was established.
Hearing those words, Lu Mingyuan felt an indescribable sensation in his heart.
For five years, he had been walking the paths of others. The paths of Longhu Mountain, Wudang Mountain, Mount Qingcheng, Shaolin, Yuelu, Junshan Mountain, the Tang Clan, and Mount Hua. He had walked countless paths, met countless people, and learned countless methods.
But all of those belonged to others.
Now, he finally had a path of his own.
Xuan-shu Path.
He picked up the tea bowl and took a sip. The tea was cold, but as he drank it, he felt a surge of warmth.
"Master," he put down the bowl, "I have my own Dao. What next?"
Xuanweizi looked at him.
"Next? Next, you continue walking."
"Walking where?"
Xuanweizi didn't answer. He stood up and walked to the window.
Outside, the shadow of the old cypress tree was still swaying. In the distance, the main peak of Zhongnan Mountain was shrouded in mist, appearing indistinct.
"Do you know how many paths there are in this world?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment. "Countless."
"Do those countless paths lead to the same place?"
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
Xuanweizi turned back and looked at him.
"No. Countless paths lead to countless places. Some seek longevity, some seek freedom, some seek to save others, and some seek to save themselves. Each has its own destination, each its own end."
He walked back to the low table and sat down again.
"Where does your Xuan-shu Path want to go?"
Lu Mingyuan fell silent.
Where did his Xuan-shu Path want to go?
He didn't know.
He had never thought about "where he wanted to go." He had just been walking, walking on and on, going wherever he ended up.
Xuanweizi looked at him and suddenly smiled.
"You don't know?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"It's normal not to know. How can a Dao that has just been established know where it's going? Just walk first. After walking for a while, you will know."
He lifted the clay pot and refilled Lu Mingyuan's tea.
"However, before you go, there are some things you need to know."
Xuanweizi's voice became low.
"Have you seen that blood-colored rift?"
Lu Mingyuan's heart jolted.
"I have. I saw it in the sky the year I went down the mountain. Later, I saw it again in the Northwest."
Xuanweizi nodded.
"Do you know what that rift is?"
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
Xuanweizi was silent for a moment, then said slowly:
"That is a wound of the Heavenly Dao."
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
A wound of the Heavenly Dao?
"When the world first opened, Chaos divided. The clear rose to become the heavens, and the turbid sank to become the earth. But that division was not complete. A mass of Chaos remained stuck in the middle, neither rising nor sinking, neither dissipating nor vanishing. That mass of Chaos is 'An'."
He paused and continued:
"Later, the Ferocious Beast Great Tribulation, the Dragon-Phoenix Great Tribulation, the Witch-Demon Calamity, the Investiture of the Gods Calamity, and the Journey to the West Great Tribulation—each calamity left behind resentment in the world. Those resentments were absorbed by that mass of Chaos. It grew larger and stronger, eventually becoming a 'void' in the Heavenly Dao."
Lu Mingyuan was alarmed by what he heard.
"Then The Rift in the Northwest..."
"Was torn open by it." Xuanweizi's gaze was profound. "It is looking for something."
"Looking for what?"
"Looking to be completed."
Lu Mingyuan didn't understand.
Xuanweizi looked at him and said slowly:
"It is the deficiency of the Heavenly Dao. A deficiency must be completed. But its method of completion is to devour. Devour heaven and earth, devour all living beings, devour everything. It believes that the more it devours, the more complete it becomes."
He sighed.
"But it is wrong. The more it devours, the more it lacks. The more it devours, the more deficient it becomes. The more deficient it is, the more it devours. This is a dead end."
Lu Mingyuan was silent for a long time.
"Then... how can it be resolved?"
Xuanweizi looked at him, his gaze containing something indefinable.
"The person who resolves this dead end is called the 'Person of Destiny'."
Person of Destiny.
These words weighed on Lu Mingyuan's heart like a stone.
"Master..." he started, his voice a bit raspy, "Am I..."
Xuanweizi waved his hand, interrupting him.
"Whether you are or not is not for you to decide, nor for me to decide. It is for Heaven to decide."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan with a calm gaze.
"But even if Heaven decides, it doesn't mean you can't escape it. The Person of Destiny is not chosen by Heaven; they choose themselves."
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
Chosen by oneself?
"Yes. Chosen by oneself." Xuanweizi said slowly, "The deficiency of the Heavenly Dao is there, The Rift is there, and 'An' is there. Seeing it, one can choose to go, or choose not to go. The one who chooses to go is the Person of Destiny."
He paused and added:
"From the day you went down the mountain, you have been walking towards it. The demon cave of Longhu Mountain, The Rift of Black Water Marsh, the blood-colored rift in the Northwest—you went every time. It wasn't Heaven that made you go; you went yourself."
Lu Mingyuan was silent.
It was true. Every time, he could have chosen not to go. But every time, he went.
Not for any particular reason, just because he felt he should go.
Xuanweizi looked at him with some gratification in his eyes.
"So, whether you are the Person of Destiny or not, you know it in your own heart."
Lu Mingyuan thought for a long time and slowly nodded.
"Your Disciple... understands."
The tea had grown cold.
Xuanweizi brewed another pot.
The aroma of tea wafted up again, filling the room with warmth.
"Master," Lu Mingyuan asked, "what should I do next?"
Xuanweizi poured the tea and pushed a bowl toward him.
"First, teach your martial nephew well."
Lu Mingyuan was taken aback.
"And then?"
"Then, go to the Northwest."
Lu Mingyuan's heart jolted.
"Has The Rift expanded again?"
Xuanweizi nodded.
"In the past six months, it has expanded by thirty percent. Kunlun has already sent people, but they are short-handed. If you go, you can be of help."
Lu Mingyuan was silent for a moment, then asked:
"And after that?"
Xuanweizi looked at him and suddenly laughed.
"After that? Why think about what comes after that now?"
He picked up the tea bowl and drank slowly.
"First, do the tasks at hand well. Teach Qingyuan well, go to the Northwest, and look at The Rift. Once you are there, you will know what to do next."
Lu Mingyuan thought about it and nodded.
"Your Disciple understands."
Xuanweizi put down the tea bowl and looked at him.
"What do you understand?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment and said slowly:
"I understand that when walking, one should not always think about 'afterward'. If you walk the path beneath your feet well, you will naturally know how to proceed afterward."
Xuanweizi smiled.
"It's good that you understand."
Coming out of the east wing, Lu Mingyuan stood in the courtyard.
The afternoon sun was warm, feeling slightly hot on his body. The shadow of the old cypress tree had shrunk into a clump, hiding beneath the roots. Qingyuan was still drawing water by the well, carrying it bucket by bucket to the kitchen.
He suddenly remembered five years ago when he had first arrived at Zhongnan Mountain.
At that time, he was the same, drawing water, chopping wood, and sweeping the floor every day. He understood nothing and wanted to ask about everything. Xuanweizi never got annoyed, teaching and explaining slowly.
Five years later, he was to teach someone else.
Looking at Qingyuan, he suddenly felt a bit dazed.
What would this young man be like in five years?
Would he also be like him, traveling to all the Three Mountains and Five Sacred Peaks and questioning the world's Masters?
Would he also be like him, facing the blood-colored rift and choosing to go?
He didn't know.
But he knew that Qingyuan's path was Qingyuan's own. All he could do was teach what should be taught and say what should be said. The rest was up to him.
He walked down the stone steps toward Qingyuan.
"Junior Martial Uncle!" Qingyuan put down the bucket. "Do you have any instructions?"
Lu Mingyuan looked at him and suddenly asked:
"Have you ever thought about why you cultivate?"
Qingyuan was stunned.
After thinking for a good while, he said:
"I... I've thought about it a bit. Since I was a child, I felt that there are many things in this world that cannot be seen or touched, but they truly exist. I want to know what those things are."
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Then cultivate well. Cultivate until one day you can see what is invisible and touch what is intangible."
Qingyuan's eyes lit up.
"Can I reach that level?"
Lu Mingyuan looked at him and said seriously:
"As long as you keep walking, you can."
In the evening, Lu Mingyuan went to that cave in the back mountain again.
The cave was still the same. Stone bed, stone stool, dry grass. The sunlight at the cave entrance had moved away, leaving only a patch of cool shade.
He sat on the stone bed, looking at the water stains on the cave ceiling.
Those winding patterns looked like paths.
For five years, he had walked countless paths. Some were easy, some were difficult. Some paths disappeared as he walked, while others appeared as he moved along.
Now, he had his own path.
Xuan-shu Path.
But he still didn't know where this path led.
He only knew that the next stop was the Northwest.
The place with the blood-colored rift, where the thing called 'An' was waiting.
He didn't know what would happen when he went there.
But he knew he should go.
He closed his eyes and looked inward at his Dantian.
That mass of Wanxiang True Qi hung quietly, warm like a small sun. Within that sun 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.
"The Person of Destiny is not chosen by Heaven; they choose themselves."
He opened his eyes and looked at the twilight outside the cave.
In the twilight, the distant mountains were like dark eyebrows, and heaven and earth were vast and hazy.
He stood up and walked out of the cave.
It was time to go back.
Tomorrow, he still had to teach Qingyuan.
The day after tomorrow, he had to go to the Northwest.
The road is long; walk it slowly.