Chapter Sixty-Six: The Way of the Dao

Within the boundless realm of his sea of consciousness, Lu Chenyuan wielded his spirit as a brush, his heartfire as ink, and slowly inscribed the character for “one.”

At first glance, the character seemed unremarkable, yet the very moment the brushstroke fell, Lu Chenyuan felt as if heaven and earth themselves trembled. A sharp rending sound tore through the silence, and that ink-washed landscape—once still as death—was suddenly engulfed in surging waves.

The turbid rivers, born from foul currents, rose up in towering, murky waves that crashed into the sky, recoiling violently. The mountains, drawn in ink, twisted and contorted as if writhing in excruciating pain. From the depths of those muddy waters, countless sinister whispers of fiends and heretics surged forth, stirring his very soul.

Lu Chenyuan steeled his mind, forcing himself into composure, not daring to act recklessly. Only then did those cataclysmic visions slowly recede.

He opened his eyes to find cold sweat beading at his brow. He was just about to share his success with Shangguan Chuci when he looked up and saw her pale, beautiful face, still tinged with terror, her gaze fixed unwaveringly upon him.

Lu Chenyuan was surprised and asked with concern, “Master Chu, did something happen just now?”

It was only upon hearing his question that Shangguan Chuci seemed to awaken from a dream. She let out a long, trembling breath, but her gaze sharpened as it fell upon his face.

A moment before, she had clearly glimpsed in the depths of this young man’s eyes an instant of chilling indifference, as if a god gazing down on ants.

Suppressing the shiver that ran through her heart, she composed herself and managed a faint smile. “Brother Lu, there is something you may not know. My heartfire is somewhat unique—it can illuminate illusions and reveal things that ordinary eyes cannot perceive. What I witnessed just now was truly unsettling.”

Lu Chenyuan could see she was not feigning and, curious yet concerned, was about to inquire further. But Shangguan Chuci, seeing his intent and remembering that they were now bound as allies in life and death, realized that further concealment would only make her seem petty.

With a sigh, she said, “Brother Lu, do you recall me telling you that heartfire in this world comes in three grades? Yet beyond these, there exists a fourth, which I call ‘extraordinary fire.’

“This fire can not only illuminate a world but possesses supernatural qualities that are found in none other. As fate would have it, my own heartfire is one such extraordinary fire, known as the Fire of Logic. With it, I can pierce through appearances and discern the underlying patterns of things.

“When you focused your mind just now, I quietly kindled this fire to safeguard you. Who could have foreseen what I would witness...”

She paused, still haunted by the vision she had just endured, and only after a moment did she continue.

“I saw your shadow rise up from the ground, transforming into an indescribable demonic god, holding a chilling bone brush. It used the void before you as its canvas, dipped that brush into boundless evil, and wrote the character ‘one.’

“Within those strokes, countless writhing worms of flesh twisted ceaselessly, as if seeking to defile this entire realm. Most terrifying of all, at the end of the stroke, there appeared a crimson, monstrous eye, which stared coldly at me across the boundary of reality and illusion—it was enough to shatter one’s very soul!”

She looked at Lu Chenyuan, her expression complex, and finally sighed. “If Wei Zhuo had witnessed such a sight, even he would be ashamed and would likely break his bone brush on the spot, vowing never to paint again.

“And that heartfire of his, for you to have claimed it—well, perhaps it was fated that after wandering half a lifetime, it would finally find a true master.”

Lu Chenyuan was shaken by her account, his face a mix of astonishment and helpless amusement.

Seeing his reaction, Shangguan Chuci’s fear gradually faded, replaced by curiosity. “And you? How do you feel after writing that character?”

Lu Chenyuan steadied himself and recounted everything he had experienced within his sea of consciousness.

Shangguan Chuci mulled this over for a long while before saying, “So it seems that, for now, the mindscape of Wei Zhuo cannot sway your true self. However, should you wish to borrow this power, you will inevitably be tainted by that turbid current.”

She paused, her gaze growing solemn as she looked at Lu Chenyuan.

“But such is the way of things in this world. To wear the crown is to bear its weight.

“If you wish to walk the grand path that pierces heaven and earth, you must have the resolve to master unbridled madness. The burdens you must bear, Brother Lu, will surely far exceed those of ordinary cultivators—perhaps even surpassing the Lantern Bearers themselves...”

At this, Shangguan Chuci suddenly fell silent, simply staring at Lu Chenyuan.

Meeting her gaze, the young man’s face—still touched with a trace of boyishness—took on an unprecedented firmness as he spoke slowly:

“My master did not wish for me to walk this path, and I do not wish to disappoint her. Yet the winds of the world are ever turbulent; the tree longs for stillness, but the wind will not cease. Without the means to defend myself, how could I protect others—or even preserve my own life?

“Now that I have this method of wielding the Dao without arduous cultivation, how could I not seize the chance to try?”

Shangguan Chuci smiled gracefully, “Since you have such determination, it would be unwise for me to try and dissuade you further. Besides…”

“To be honest, I am curious to see what kind of wonders Brother Lu might conjure with such astonishing talents.”

“The Daoist arts?”

“Indeed. The path of cultivation is the pursuit of myriad transformations and countless divine arts. The character ‘one’ you wrote in your sea of consciousness was merely the most rudimentary entryway.”

Lu Chenyuan’s eyes shone with excitement, as if a door to a brand new world was slowly opening before him. At this moment, his yearning for power burned more fiercely than ever.

Having heard Shangguan Chuci’s account, he could not help but be curious, and now he finally understood—

Why people would say that to hear the Dao at dawn is to die content at dusk; why they say the path to immortality is more treacherous than the way to Shu, like moths flying into flame, and yet countless souls still rush headlong into it.

“Master Chu, is it possible for me to perform these Daoist arts you speak of?”

“If you could write that ‘one,’ it means you have already crossed the threshold. Of course you can.”

Shangguan Chuci continued, “Unfortunately, my cultivation is rooted in the human path, and my grasp of the world’s arts and spells is limited. Though you have acquired Wei Zhuo’s foundation, I can only teach you a few basic entry-level arts. But perhaps that is for the best—you can learn step by step and avoid straying from the path at the outset.”

She broke off, her gaze sweeping up and down over Lu Chenyuan with a peculiar expression.

Lu Chenyuan felt a chill under her scrutiny, and his excitement faded as he asked, “Why do you look at me so?”

“Your master’s reluctance to teach you cultivation—I think I understand now.”

On her pale, delicate face appeared an expression both reverent and worried as she spoke softly:

“There are flames which, once kindled, do not light the path ahead, but instead burn everything to ash. And it seems I have become the one to offer you the spark that sets it all ablaze.

“I feel as if I have personally undone the seal on the Demon-Suppressing Tower, unleashing a world-devouring demon upon a world already riddled with calamity.”