76: Chapter 76 The Truth Behind the Rift
On the evening of the fourth day, Lu Mingyuan arrived at the east wing as usual.
But on this day, Xuanweizi did not brew any tea.
The old man stood before the window, gazing toward the Northwest. Outside, the twilight deepened, and the shadow of the old cypress tree merged into the darkness. Yet his gaze seemed to pierce through thousands of mountains and rivers, landing on a place very, very far away.
Lu Mingyuan stood at the doorway for a moment and said softly, "Master?"
Xuanweizi did not turn around.
"Come here."
Lu Mingyuan walked to the window and followed his gaze.
In the Northwest, there was a faint red streak on the horizon. That red was not the sunset; it was something else. It looked like a thin wound slashed across the sky.
"What is that?"
"You have seen it before," Xuanweizi said.
Lu Mingyuan's heart jolted.
The blood-colored Rift.
To think it could be seen even from here in Zhongnan Mountain, at such a great distance?
"It... has grown larger again?"
Xuanweizi nodded.
"In these past six months, it has expanded by thirty percent. Now, it is visible to Mortals, not just Cultivators."
Lu Mingyuan fell silent.
What did it mean for Mortals to be able to see it?
It meant panic, it meant rumors, it meant widespread anxiety.
"Master," he asked, "what exactly is that Rift?"
Xuanweizi remained silent for a long time.
Then, he spoke a term Lu Mingyuan had never heard before.
"That is a wound of the Heavenly Dao."
Xuanweizi turned around, walked back to the low table, and sat on the couch.
Lu Mingyuan followed and sat opposite him.
This time, there was no tea. There were only the two of them and the night deepening outside the window.
"The Heavenly Dao is wounded," Xuanweizi began slowly, "the wound is in the Northwest."
Lu Mingyuan listened quietly.
"Do you know what the Heavenly Dao is?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment. "The rules of heaven and earth, the order of all things?"
Xuanweizi nodded, then shook his head.
"Correct, and yet not correct. The Heavenly Dao is rules and order, but it is also alive."
Alive?
"The Heavenly Dao has life. It births and nurtures all things, moves the sun and moon, and controls life and death. But it can also be wounded, fall ill, and grow old."
Xuanweizi's voice turned low.
"Every Great Tribulation is a severe wound. During the Heaven-Opening Great Tribulation, Pangu died and the Heavenly Dao was first established; that was the first wound. During the Ferocious Beast Great Tribulation, countless living beings were plunged into misery; that was the second wound. During the Dragon-Phoenix Great Tribulation, the three clans were nearly wiped out; that was the third wound. During the Witch-Demon Calamity, the zhou heavens were shattered; that was the fourth wound. During the Investiture of the Gods Calamity, Saints no longer appeared; that was the fifth wound. During the Journey to the West Great Tribulation, Luck was diverted; that was the sixth wound."
He paused and looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"Now, it is the seventh wound. The Dharma-Ending Kalpa."
Lu Mingyuan's heart shook violently.
Seven Great Calamities, seven wounds.
The Heavenly Dao was already covered in scars.
"Those wounds..." his voice was raspy, "will they heal?"
Xuanweizi shook his head.
"No. A wound is a wound; even if it heals, there is a scar. But some wounds not only fail to heal, they also fester."
He looked out the window at that faint red light, which appeared exceptionally piercing in the night.
"That Rift in the Northwest is a festering wound."
"Festering?"
"Yes. Festering," Xuanweizi said. "Just like a human wound, if left untreated, it will suppurate, rot, and grow larger. The wounds of the Heavenly Dao are the same. The resentment left behind by those Great Tribulations was never resolved and has accumulated there. It piles up more and more, deeper and deeper. When it reaches a certain point, it rots right through."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"That Rift is the place where it has rotted through."
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
Rotted through.
The wound of the Heavenly Dao had rotted through.
"What is... behind that Rift?"
Xuanweizi was silent for a long time.
"It is An."
Lu Mingyuan's heart tightened.
An. That thing Xuanweizi had mentioned many times but had never explained clearly.
"What exactly is An?"
Xuanweizi looked at him with a profound gaze.
"An is the projection of the Heavenly Dao's deficiency."
The projection of the Heavenly Dao's deficiency.
Lu Mingyuan chewed over these words, only half-understanding.
Xuanweizi explained slowly:
"The Heavenly Dao is complete. But after it is wounded, a piece goes missing. That piece should have been some kind of rule, some kind of order, some kind of existence. But it is gone."
He paused and continued:
"When it is gone, the Dao wants to mend it. But how? It doesn't know. It only knows that it is deficient. Deficiency must be filled. With what? It doesn't know. Regardless, it is deficient, so it fills."
Lu Mingyuan was alarmed by what he heard.
"So it... fills it randomly?"
"Yes. Randomly," Xuanweizi nodded. "It absorbs resentment. Because resentment is most abundant and easiest to absorb. But resentment is poison. Absorbing resentment not only fails to mend the deficiency, it makes the deficiency even larger. The larger it gets, the more it absorbs; the more it absorbs, the larger it gets."
He sighed.
"That is An."
Lu Mingyuan was silent for a long time.
He suddenly thought of those Demon Puppets, those Demon Generals, and the things surging out of The Rift. They were frenzied, bloodthirsty, and destructive. But they were not evil; they were deficiency.
Deficiency taken to the extreme became like that.
"Master," he asked, "does An... have a consciousness?"
Xuanweizi thought for a long time.
"It does, and yet it doesn't."
Lu Mingyuan was puzzled.
"It has instinct. It knows it is deficient and needs to be filled. But it doesn't know what mending is or how to mend. It is like..." Xuanweizi thought for a moment, "like a person who has been starving for too long and eats whatever they see. But what they eat is inedible. The more they eat, the hungrier they get; the hungrier they get, the more they eat."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"Tell me, does it have a consciousness?"
Lu Mingyuan was speechless.
It did, and yet it didn't.
It had instinct but no wisdom.
It had desire but no direction.
That was An.
Night grew deeper.
No lamps were lit, and the room was shrouded in darkness. Only the moonlight from outside shone in faintly, spreading a layer of silver-white across the floor.
Lu Mingyuan sat in the darkness, his mind in a state of upheaval.
"Master," he asked, "will that Rift keep growing larger?"
Xuanweizi nodded.
"Yes."
"To what extent?"
"To the extent that... it swallows the entire heaven and earth."
Lu Mingyuan's heart jolted.
"Then..."
"That is the Dharma-Ending Kalpa." Xuanweizi looked at him. "An will surge out from The Rift and devour everything. Heaven and earth will return to Chaos, and all things will return to nothingness."
Lu Mingyuan was silent for a long time.
"Is there no way?"
Xuanweizi did not answer.
Lu Mingyuan asked again: "Master, is there no way?"
Xuanweizi finally spoke.
"There is."
Lu Mingyuan's eyes lit up.
"What way?"
Xuanweizi looked at him with something indiscernible in his gaze.
"Mending the Heavens."
Mending the Heavens.
Lu Mingyuan had heard this term. Nuwa Mending the Heavens was an ancient legend.
But wasn't that just a legend?
Xuanweizi saw through his doubt.
"Nuwa Mending the Heavens is real. That was after the Witch-Demon Calamity, when the Heavenly Pillar snapped and the Four Extremes collapsed; Nuwa forged the Five-Colored Stones to mend the azure sky."
He paused and added:
"But what was mended then was the sky. What must be mended this time is the wound of the Heavenly Dao."
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
The wound of the Heavenly Dao—how could it be mended?
Xuanweizi said slowly:
"Nuwa mended the heavens using Five-Colored Stones. What are Five-Colored Stones? They were the essence of the Five Elements she gathered and the Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi she refined. Those were tangible things used to mend a tangible sky."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"But the wound of the Heavenly Dao is intangible. It must be mended with intangible things."
"Intangible things?"
"Dao. Heart. Love."
Lu Mingyuan's heart jolted.
Dao, Heart, Love.
These were exactly what he had been trying to comprehend all these days.
"Use the Dao to mend the rules, use the Heart to mend the deficiency, and use Love to mend the resentment," Xuanweizi said. "When all three are present, the wound of the Heavenly Dao can be mended."
He paused and looked at Lu Mingyuan.
"But it is not easy to bring these three together."
Lu Mingyuan thought for a long time.
"Master, my Xuan-shu Path..."
Xuanweizi nodded.
"Your Dao was born for this very purpose."
Lu Mingyuan was dazed.
Born for this?
"Heart as the Mysterious Pivot. A pivot is the center. It is neither biased nor leaning, neither to the left nor to the right. Yet the center is the great foundation of the world. The center is the root, the source."
Xuanweizi's voice flowed slowly in the darkness.
"Your Dao takes the heart as its pivot and the center as its foundation. The heart can contain all laws, and the center can balance all things. This is the foundation for mending the heavens."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan with a profound gaze.
"Do you know why I took you as my Disciple?"
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
Xuanweizi was silent for a moment and then said slowly:
"Because that night in that broken temple, as you faced a tattered copy of the classic of mountains and seas, there was light in your eyes."
Lu Mingyuan was stunned.
How many years ago was that?
Back then, he was still a Mortal, passing his days copying books in Heyin City. When a mountain flood was imminent, he took shelter in an abandoned temple and met Xuanweizi.
That night, he read the classic of mountains and seas and perceived Spiritual Qi for the first time.
That night, the light in his eyes was seen by Xuanweizi.
"Where there is light, there is love. Where there is love, one can guard. Where one can guard, one can mend," Xuanweizi looked at him. "You are the most suitable person for mending the heavens I have ever seen."
Lu Mingyuan fell silent.
He thought back on the path he had traveled over these years. Longhu Mountain, Wudang Mountain, Mount Qingcheng. Shaolin, Daxiangguo Temple, Leiyin Ruins. Yuelu, White Deer Grotto, Junshan Mountain, Tang Clan, Huashan Mountain.
Those paths, those people, those events—it turned out they were all preparation for this.
He thought of those Demon Puppets, those Demon Generals, and that ever-growing blood-colored Rift.
He thought of Rahu, he thought of An, and he thought of the countless living beings who had died in the Great Tribulations.
He thought of the old man who repaired the roads, the Great Master who swept the floors, Tang Zhuo who made hidden weapons, and Hui Ke who practiced his fist techniques.
And those silent people, the paths they spent their entire lives walking.
He suddenly understood a little.
Mending the heavens was not one person's task.
It was everyone's task.
Those bits and pieces of love, those days and nights of guarding, those paths forged hammer stroke by hammer stroke—all were part of mending the heavens.
He was merely the "Pivot."
Connecting those acts of love, those acts of guarding, and those paths together.
Nothing more.
Outside, the moonlight gradually shifted westward.
Xuanweizi stood up, walked to the window, and gazed at that faint red light in the Northwest.
"The Rift is still expanding. In three years at most, there will be a full-scale outbreak."
Lu Mingyuan stood up and walked to his side.
"Three years."
"Three years," Xuanweizi looked at him. "Are you afraid?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a long time.
"Yes."
Xuanweizi nodded.
"It is right to be afraid. Those who do not know fear cannot go far."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan with something in his eyes—was it relief, reluctance, or something else?
"But fear or no fear, the path that must be walked must still be walked."
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"I understand."
Xuanweizi was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked:
"Do you still remember the question I asked you before you went down the mountain?"
Lu Mingyuan was startled.
Before going down the mountain... that was five years ago.
Xuanweizi had accompanied him to the mountain gate and asked him—
"Do you know what the Dao is?"
He had been unable to answer then.
At this moment, he suddenly had an answer.
"The Dao is having light in one's heart, love in one's eyes, and a path beneath one's feet."
Xuanweizi smiled.
"It is good that you understand."
He turned and walked toward the door.
Reaching the doorway, he suddenly stopped and said without turning back:
"Tomorrow, we shall speak of the Person of Destiny."
Lu Mingyuan watched his figure disappear into the night.
Under the moonlight, that back appeared somewhat hunched and aged.
But he knew that beneath that hunch and age was the Dao he had guarded for untold years.
He stood by the window, gazing toward the Northwest.
That red light was still there.
But he was no longer afraid.
Fear is one thing, but the path that must be walked must still be walked.
He turned and went back into the room.
Lying on the bed, he closed his eyes.
Within his Dantian, that mass of Wanxiang True Qi was suspended quietly, warm and glowing like a small sun.
Within that sun were all the paths he had walked, all the people he had seen, and all the questions he had pondered.
Those paths, those people, and those questions had all become a part of him now.
He knew that from today on, things were different.
It wasn't that his cultivation was different.
It was the person who had changed.
He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
This night, there were no dreams.
Only the moonlight fell silently upon him.