“The uncle laughed in a strange way…” The little girl and the young boy both looked fearful, stepping back repeatedly before being embraced by a young woman in a purple dress who had been silently watching. With a wary expression, she led them back into the cabin. Some passengers nearby turned to look, their expressions confused, as if they couldn’t understand why someone who seemed normal would suddenly go mad.
After laughing for a while, Meng Qi gradually calmed down. People in this world who haven’t seen true cultivation often judge others merely by appearances, blinded or limited by their own experiences, reliance, and knowledge. They disbelieve when they should trust and fall deeply into delusion when they shouldn’t. What Meng Qi had told was a true story, while Xuan Xin had masked his identity as a spy from a demonic race through exaggeration. Though they differed, both had shown some clues. For example, if Meng Qi’s story were posted on the forum of the Myriad Worlds Universal Knowledge Realm, someone from his old acquaintances in the Three Mountains and Four Waters might recognize him as Meng Qi, the “Gentleman Sword.” Similarly, Xuan Xin often displayed subtle inconsistencies, making people feel that he wasn’t as simple as he seemed. If only they had taken him seriously earlier and observed him secretly, how could the incident at Shaolin have occurred?
Unfortunately, judging by appearances often leads to misunderstanding, just like losing sight of a person’s true nature.
If people in this world judge by appearances and thus fail to perceive the Dharma Body or see the Tathagata, what then stands in the way? Is it the external “self”?
Shaking his head with a sigh, Meng Qi ignored the curious gazes and entered the cabin, for it had been countless years since he last felt the sensation of hunger in his stomach.
The many perceptions and concepts brought about by his martial cultivation abilities over the years had shattered and were being rebuilt.
The journey across the sea was uneventful. Meng Qi had always been good at making friends and soon became close with Huang Chang and others, drinking and chatting happily. In his spare time, he told stories to the twins, recounting his experiences as Kuang Dao Yuan Huang and his adventures in the Reincarnation World.
Although the twins constantly muttered that their mother had said the uncle was exaggerating, Meng Qi’s stories were indeed fascinating, compelling them to show up on time every day, their little faces upturned, listening with rapt attention.
“Now, listen closely. When I returned to the capital of that country, I encountered the Demon Empress in a temple. She summoned a Golden Holy Robe and transformed into the Blade Queen…” As Meng Qi narrated, his habitual teasing and playful nature kicked in, and his stories began to spiral into wild, exaggerated tales. The surrounding listeners found the tales abrupt and frowned repeatedly, but the little boy and girl were fascinated, finding them even more entertaining than the book “Yuan Huang vs. Transformers!”
They occasionally asked questions, like what the Golden Holy Robe was or who the Blade Queen was, and the interaction became increasingly enjoyable, gradually easing the vigilance of the purple-robed woman who had been watching warily nearby.
That night, the moon hung high, casting a clear glow like gauze over the mechanical ship. Meng Qi, no longer the tireless cultivator, slept on a narrow bed, swaying with the waves.
In one of the cabins, a man in black robes, who had kept his eyes closed all along, suddenly opened them. His pitch-black pupils shimmered with a silvery sheen, exuding both sanctity and indifference. Like the clearest mirror, they reflected every minute detail around him, including things invisible to the naked eye—such as the ghostly mists of yin energy swirling in the air, or the face of a ghost embedded in the wallboard, visible only as a disembodied head.
“My Unwarranted Eye technique has finally reached a minor level of success,” the man in black muttered with satisfaction, slowly rising from his bed.
He was a powerful practitioner of the Left Path. To cultivate this divine ability, he had suppressed his desires for years. Now that his practice was complete, he wanted to celebrate and let loose.
According to his perception and observations, no one on this ship could withstand even a single strike from him.
He pushed open the cabin door. Looking at the flickering lights and quiet corridor on either side, he recalled everything he had learned previously and walked forward leisurely, filled with satisfaction, as if he were the master of all lives aboard the ship.
“The Myriad Worlds Universal Knowledge Talisman cannot be blocked easily. I mustn’t be careless, lest someone calls for help,” he mused carefully. Thinking again, he bypassed the two cabins where the purple-robed woman and her family resided and moved forward.
Though the bragging fellow seemed to lack martial skills, the man had sensed something indescribable when observing him. Out of caution, he decided to start with him first.
He stopped in front of the cabin door, slowly pushed it open soundlessly, and scanned the room with his eyes, filled with bloodthirsty cruelty. He took in the sleeping figure of Meng Qi on the bed. Raising his right hand, he was about to strike.
Yet at that precise instant, his Unwarranted Eye beheld a vision beyond mortal sight. Encircling the slumbering form were countless golden Arhats and merciful Bodhisattvas, tier upon tier, interwoven. Some formed the Lion Mudra, others the Vase Mudra; some wielded demon-quelling hammers, while others bore pristine lotuses. Waves of crystalline pure light and celestial blossoms cascaded endlessly from above, and at the zenith, there appeared to be a “Buddha” luminous as moonlight!
Sweat dripped down, instinctively stepping back, the man in black robes hit the door with a thud, stammering in panic: “Protected by countless deities?”
Could this bragging fellow really be guarded by Arhats from all heavens and Bodhisattvas from all worlds?
What was his origin?
A reincarnation of the Buddha, or a savior of the world?
The sound of the door startled Meng Qi awake. Years of habit made him quickly roll upright, assuming the most suitable posture for action. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he scrutinized the black-robed man before him, while the echo of “protected by countless deities” still lingered in his ears.
In a brief moment, he had already pieced together the general situation. Facing the panicked black-robed man, he smiled slightly and said, “Entering without asking, is that the way of a guest?”
The black-robed man’s expression was horrified as he instinctively shook his head:
“You, you have no martial skill at all. How could you be protected by countless deities?”
He seemed determined to die knowing the truth.
Meng Qi sat upright, smiling, and said, “To tell you the truth, you won’t believe me. I used to be a great master. Faced with a cultivation barrier I couldn’t overcome, I sought advice from a friend. Eventually, I realized that cutting away my greatest reliance—my martial power—was the shortcut to seeing my true self. As for being protected by countless deities, it’s because I once helped a certain Buddha and a great Bodhisattva.”
The black-robed man paused, then burst into uncontrollable laughter, waking several people. After a long while, he gasped for breath and said, “You think I’m stupid? Who would be such a fool to give up their martial power just because someone said a few words? Haha, that joke is too funny.”
I am exactly that kind of fool… Meng Qi murmured silently.
“Cutting martial power to see your true self? Haha, cutting martial power only leads to self-destruction…” the black-robed man continued laughing. “All martial cultivators know one thing: the most real and reliable foundation is the strength cultivated through hard work. Why would anyone need to abandon it to see their true self?”
Meng Qi thought for a moment and said, “The Daoists once divided calamities into many categories: different kinds of lightning tribulations, Yin wind and earth-fire tribulations, karmic tribulations caused by human entanglements, tribulations related to past and future lives, and even the Void Tribulation, where one suddenly loses all supernatural abilities. In such a situation, can martial cultivation still be relied upon? Would you just wait for death if you encountered the Void Tribulation? If you don’t rely on something, then what?”
“That’s different. If it’s a tribulation, you can prepare treasures to ward off disasters, invite friends to protect you, and make thorough plans. As long as you survive that period, your powers will naturally return. This is incomparable to deliberately cutting away your martial foundation to seek an illusory true self,” the black-robed man scoffed, still believing the high-level cultivator protected by countless deities was joking with him.
It was true that there were powerful cultivators who could hide their martial skills so thoroughly that he couldn’t sense them at all. But why would such a high-level cultivator do something so foolish as to destroy their own foundation?
Meng Qi replied solemnly, “What if the Void Tribulation lasted a year, five years, or even ten?”
“There’s no such long-lasting tribulation!” the black-robed man didn’t believe him.
Meng Qi didn’t argue but simply smiled and said, “Isn’t what I’m saying now the same? I can be protected by countless deities, have treasures that automatically guard me, and if I need help, there are many willing to assist me, even if I’ve lost all my martial power. I just need to re-understand myself, re-understand the world, and adjust the habits formed through martial cultivation. How is this different from enduring the Void Tribulation?”
“But others recover once the tribulation is over, while self-imposed power loss offers little hope—it’s more like giving up,” the black-robed man still couldn’t accept this choice.
To martial cultivators, power was life itself, the essence of everything!
Meng Qi didn’t answer directly but instead looked out the window, pointing at the bright moon and saying, “When I had martial power, I could enter the Azure Abyss at will, reaching the Moon Palace with ease. Now, if I want to go there, I either need someone else’s help or must use the Mo Palace’s mechanical wonders to travel.”
Then he pointed at the dark silhouette of an island in the distance:
“Look at those steep island peaks. With martial power, it was just a single step. Now, if I want to climb them, I must prepare carefully, traverse mountains and rivers, and overcome many difficulties to reach the summit.”
“In the past, I could handle matters on my own, even from across worlds, exerting my power from afar. Now, I must take detours and rely on others.”
“All my past experiences, habits, and perceptions have crumbled before my eyes as I lost my martial power. I must rebuild them to match my current state, thus understanding what is a pattern, what is external, relying on them without depending on them, not letting them limit or blind my ‘eyes’…”
His voice was low, his tone calm, describing changes that seemed obvious, yet the black-robed man, who had initially disbelieved, gradually fell into thought, as if there might be some truth to what Meng Qi was saying.
They exchanged a few more words, and Meng Qi continued speaking. Unconsciously, the sky began to lighten in the east, the horizon glowing like fire.
Suddenly frowning, the black-robed man asked, “Have you been talking so much just to persuade me to give up my martial power?”
“No, I’m just comforting myself,” Meng Qi said with a self-deprecating smile, then waved his hand and added, “The Unwarranted Eye is a Daoist technique that emphasizes unity of body and mind, free from the obscuration of desires. Even if you succeed in cultivating it, indulgence will cause regression. Take care.”
The black-robed man dared not disobey. He backed out of the cabin, all his previous desires having vanished after listening to Meng Qi’s words throughout the night.
Outside, many people were already up and chatting joyfully. The black-robed man suddenly seemed to awaken, muttering in astonishment:
“What have I done? Where am I?”
“Have I really listened to that madman’s nonsense all night?”
“And actually found some of it convincing…”
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