Chapter Sixty-Three: The Path of Cultivation

Lu Chenyuan was moved by Shangguan Chuci’s suggestion and wanted to try at once. He asked,
“How should I go about it?”
Shangguan Chuci was just about to share her idea when she seemed to sense something. Her gaze shifted from Lu Chenyuan’s face, pale from blood loss, to the fresh blood seeping through the bandages on his chest. She frowned and said,
“Brother Lu, you’re so impatient—even if you were made of iron, you couldn’t withstand so much torment. For an ordinary person, to have a hole torn through the chest and still cling to life is already a blessing from the heavens. How can you converse so calmly with me in your condition?”
She paused, her tone softening. “Rest for now. Once your wounds have improved, we can discuss this at length. There’s no need to rush.”
Lu Chenyuan lowered his head to look at his chest. He felt the flesh within the wound still slowly writhing, a tingling itch spreading from inside. It was not entirely pain.
“Strange, for all that my body is weak, and the pain when I move is severe, I don’t feel as badly off as one might expect.”
Shangguan Chuci heard his casual words and couldn’t imagine how much suffering lay behind his understatement. She said,
“Brother Lu, don’t force yourself.”
Lu Chenyuan sighed deeply, his gaze drifting unconsciously to the wooden puppet in the corner, worry clouding his face.
“I’m only concerned that the Corrupted Stream cult may strike again at any moment. If I had a way to protect myself, I would feel more at ease.”
Seeing the resolve in his expression, and knowing his worries were not for himself alone, Shangguan Chuci’s heart softened. She sighed gently.
“Very well. Since you are so determined, it would be overly sentimental of me to object further. But I will say it again: do not push yourself. If you can’t go on, we’ll stop immediately.”
At her words, Lu Chenyuan’s eyes shone with light. He nodded gravely. “Agreed.”
Only then did Shangguan Chuci compose herself and say,
“Before you try your hand, let me explain some of the foundational principles of cultivation. You may have heard a little before, Brother Lu, but I suspect no one has ever explained them in detail. Let me make up for that today.”
Lu Chenyuan replied solemnly, “I am eager to learn.”
Shangguan Chuci said,
“First, calm your mind and look inward, letting your spirit roam beyond the world. Immerse your consciousness in that ink-washed realm.”
Lu Chenyuan closed his eyes as instructed. In an instant, he felt his spirit leave his body and found himself standing in that vast world of ink and wash.

In his ear, Shangguan Chuci’s clear and gentle voice sounded:
“What you see now is the ‘Sea of Awareness’ of a cultivator—the domain where one senses the mysteries of heaven and earth. This is different from your favorability system—well, as you described, the ‘Sea of the Heart’ that reflects the bonds between people. They are two distinct things.”
“Most cultivators spend a lifetime seeing only this Sea of Awareness. If you hadn’t been honest with me, I’d never have known someone could look within their own Sea of the Heart.”
She paused, then continued,
“Look now at those ink-washed mountains and rivers. Your earlier guess was correct—this is the ‘Foundation of the Way’ left behind by the demon sorcerer Wei Zhuo. If a cultivator’s foundation manifests as mountains and rivers, it’s called the ‘Foundation of Heaven and Earth.’ Such a person’s insight and command of the arts of the world far surpass those of others.”
Lu Chenyuan was struck with sudden understanding.
“So cultivation is divided so subtly—without her guidance, I might have lingered outside the door all my life.”
Shangguan Chuci continued,
“The Foundation of the Way has three paths: the Human Path, the Path of All Living Things, and the Path of Heaven and Earth. None is higher or lower than the others, but their qualities differ greatly.”
“If the foundation is shallow, its inner landscape is but a corner—one peak, one pool. That’s third-rate. If it forms a whole region, with mountain ranges and rivers, that’s second-rate. As for those who shape an entire world, with sun, moon, stars, and the turning of seasons—such are as rare as phoenix feathers, and their foundation can be called first-rate.”
“Brother Lu, take this as your measure and judge what kind of foundation that demon sorcerer possessed.”
Lu Chenyuan looked around the heartscape: mountains stretched as far as the eye could see, turbid streams surged, though there was no sun or moon, the scene was full of grandeur. He answered,
“By your description, this must be a second-rate foundation.”
Shangguan Chuci nodded. “A second-rate Way Foundation—so the heart-fire he wielded should be a mid-grade ‘True Fire.’ That fits, and yet it doesn’t.”
She shifted her tone, thoughtful.
“Ordinary heart-fires, until they reach the rank of ‘Spirit Fire,’ are all in the form of natural flame. But his ink-wash fire is so bizarre—it must be because he followed the path of the ‘Lamplighter’ and deliberately drew the Corrupted Stream into himself, so his heart-fire mutated.”
“Or perhaps there’s some secret between Grandmaster Li and his disciple. Lamplighters are said to be unmatched among their peers, but these two are even trickier than most. There may be things I don’t know.”
Lu Chenyuan was deeply shaken.
Though Wei Zhuo was dead, his presence and arts still hung over Lu Chenyuan’s mind like a shadow.
He couldn’t help but draw a cold breath and murmured,
“For a second-rate foundation and mid-grade heart-fire to be so unfathomable—what kind of earth-shattering means must those with a first-rate foundation possess?”
Shangguan Chuci saw his lingering fear and felt both exasperation and amusement. She thought to herself,

“No matter how extraordinary others may be, could any of them compare to you? With a mortal body, you have swallowed a heart-fire and seized a Way Foundation—if word got out, it would terrify every cultivator in the world.”
“He himself is a peerless aberration, yet here he is worrying about others’ abilities…”
Her thoughts raced, but her face betrayed nothing. She only let a gentle smile bloom, her red lips parting softly:
“Brother Lu, you needn’t worry. Wei Zhuo was only at the Heart-Fire stage, but his arts were cunning and he was an anomaly among Lamplighters. Especially after opening the second door, his threat was no less than an expert of the Manifest Divinity Realm.”
“A demon like him is one in a thousand. If all the Corrupted Stream cultists were so capable, this world would have been turned upside down long ago.”
Lu Chenyuan felt calmer at her analysis.
Yet as this thought passed, his mind wandered.
“I wonder what sort of first-rate foundation those legendary Four Pillars of the Sky possess, or Her Majesty the Empress, who rules all beneath heaven?”
“When their heart-fire blazes, and their heartscape appears, might it not contain the very sun, moon, and stars?”
Lost in thought, an image suddenly flashed into his mind—his master’s face, that breathtaking beauty with an air of intoxication.
“Master… what does her heartscape look like? Is it a crimson wine gourd brimming with fine wine, or a vast, lonely expanse of moonlit night?”
He was still drifting in reverie when Shangguan Chuci’s voice brought him back to the present:
“Brother Lu, now that you know the foundations of cultivation, let’s try and see how you might harness the power of that demon’s heart-fire.”
Lu Chenyuan’s spirits rose. He gathered his mind and listened intently.
“Enter the Sea of Awareness again and gaze at that ink-wash flame. Now, imagine yourself as a brush—a brush destined to write the mysteries of heaven and earth.”
“With your spirit as the brush, dip it into the ink-wash heart-fire. Then, in the emptiness before you, gently draw the character for ‘one.’”