The Lamp-bearing Divine Envoy stood proudly before the tree, holding the lamp aloft, its radiance illuminating all ten directions and myriad realms. It brightened the shadowy surroundings of the ancient Fusang tree, like a compassionate mother goddess guiding wandering souls home on the eve of doomsday, silently awaiting the assault from Shaoxuan and Xi’e. Wherever flames appeared, ashes drifted down, countless and directionless, their origin unknown.
Though he was an immortal who attained enlightenment in ancient times and had further advanced in cultivation after serving the Old Matriarch, standing at the brink of creation itself, his premature awakening had left him far from his peak. Facing the combined assault of two legendary beings, against the Overlord’s Ultimate Blade and the Vessel of Doomsday, no matter how confident his words, he dared not slacken or grow careless. He abandoned the initiative to attack and instead relied on the “Ten-directional Pilgrims’ Luminous Realm” he had previously set up. This was to eliminate the threat the Old Matriarch posed for Shawujing and to buy sufficient time to obtain that object.
At the legendary level, one understands “the self as the self,” realizing that external supports can be used but not relied upon. One can transcend limitations and grasp the situation clearly. Under such clarity, how could Shaoxuan and Xi’e fail to see the Lamp-bearing Envoy’s intentions?
Without hesitation, Shaoxuan stepped into the Vessel of Doomsday and stood beside Xi’e. The great ship slowly advanced into the brightly lit area.
Layer upon layer of seals floated upon the warship, interweaving into Daoist runes, converging into a gentle golden light. Possessing both saintly virtue and meritorious deeds, as soon as the ship’s light met the illumination from the Pilgrims’ Lamp, sparks flickered and flowed up and down, left and right, as if about to ignite spontaneously.
Yet, despite the sparks resembling raging waves, the Vessel of Doomsday remained unshaken, unscathed, even causing the light to actively avoid it, navigating through the illuminated realm like a vessel sailing upon a bitter sea.
Although the Vessel of Doomsday had not yet reached its full potential and lacked many capabilities, making it unworthy of the title of ultimate treasure, it had been forged specifically to traverse the calamity of the end times and sail into the next era. As a bitter-sea ferry, its defensive power was fundamental and sufficient to rival the ultimate treasures. Sailing within the “Ten-directional Pilgrims’ Luminous Realm,” it was now demonstrating its full strength!
The light flowed like water, forming a sea, the ship sailing upon the ocean, parting waves and forging ahead toward the Lamp-bearing Divine Envoy.
Yet at this moment, Xi’e and Shaoxuan suddenly saw the scene before them change. Though it was still the “Ten-directional Pilgrims’ Luminous Realm,” still a sea of light, the Lamp-bearing Divine Envoy had abruptly vanished. All that remained was a strangely glowing wick quietly burning, surrounded by thick, oily dark liquid.
A wick?
Xi’e’s heart stirred. Merging her divine consciousness with the Vessel of Doomsday, she extended her senses in all directions. Then, high above, she saw the Lamp-bearing Divine Envoy’s handsome face looking down upon them.
In the distance, the Luminous Realm boundary appeared like a lampshade.
This is… her mind raced, piecing together all the signs, now grasping the current situation.
For some unknown reason, the Vessel of Doomsday had, upon entering the “Ten-directional Pilgrims’ Luminous Realm,” strangely sailed into that Luminous Celestial Lamp!
At this very moment, she and Shaoxuan were no longer in the external world, but inside the lamp, approaching its wick!
What a masterful sleight of hand!
Boom!
As Xi’e recognized the situation, Shaoxuan also understood their plight. Fully prepared, he wielded his blade like a measuring rod and unleashed the “Myriad-directional Holy Radiance.”
Boom!
Layer upon layer of worlds emerged, one civilization after another appearing. Stars of “flame” gathered, illuminating the dark and cold universe. Red, blue, yellow, white, black, and other colors converged, each representing different aspects of humanity, transforming into colorful, nourishing “currents.” With the might of man overcoming heaven, they surged into the ultimate blade, triggering celestial thunderbolts.
Purple, azure, four-colored, five-colored, chaotic and void-like, clawing and grasping, coalescing into a mass. Thunderbolts of all colors became water, as if returning to the beginning, forming an ancient and weathered thunder pool. Merging with the meritorious, life-nourishing light, it surged upward, man challenging heaven, twisting into a spiral, vast and mighty, striking the Lamp-bearing Divine Envoy.
Wherever this blade-light passed, the lamps yielded, unwilling to cause harm. In an instant, it had already reached the Divine Envoy.
The Lamp-bearing Divine Envoy wore an expression of ease but his gaze was solemn. His other hand, not holding the lamp, opened and his fingers pressed together. His palm, smooth as jade, rapidly became transparent, revealing intricate patterns. It transformed into a mirror brimming with profound mystery.
Clang!
The blade-light struck the mirror and was directly reflected back, forcing the Vessel of Doomsday to emit a brilliant golden light and emit a long, resonant chime of merit to barely stabilize itself.
At the center of the “mirror,” a deep, scorched mark remained.
In the brief span of these exchanges, neither side gained the upper hand.
…
Shawujing, his eyes pale and expressionless, flew through what seemed to be the distance of an entire universe, the Fusang tree looming ahead. Cracking sounds occasionally erupted around him, and tiny embers drifted down from the dim lamplight shining upon him.
These strange creatures, whose origins were unknown, were normally difficult to kill. They filled the entire Fusang tree realm. A single misstep could bring down even a legendary being. Without the corresponding cultivation method, one could not even detect their presence. Hidden somewhere, they could evade the senses of even a legend. Their attacks were equally bizarre, seemingly capable of dragging a legendary being down from a higher state of existence.
What exactly were they?
Were they connected to the Supreme Emperor of Heaven or to the Eastern Emperor Taiyi?
As he flew, Shawujing’s thoughts inevitably stirred, pondering the strangeness of the Fusang tree realm. Fortunately, the Old Matriarch had bestowed the Pilgrims’ Lamp, allowing the Lamp-bearing Envoy to bring it into the real world. Otherwise, there would have been no way to counter these strange creatures. Without it, even with careful planning, interference and obstruction from other factions would have been inevitable.
However, as he neared the treetop, the light from the Pilgrims’ Lamp could no longer penetrate. It was up to him now.
“But I am no longer the same low-level cultivator, the helpless Sand Monk of the Journey to the West…” Shawujing’s indifferent gaze flickered with a glimmer, as if seeking to prove something.
As his light flashed forward, the surroundings suddenly dimmed, though not completely dark. The leaves and branches bathed in solar radiance shimmered with firelight, like a field at night filled with torches.
Shawujing touched the white bone Lulian prayer beads hanging from his chest, his mind attuned to his surroundings. He slowed his pace, advancing cautiously, remaining vigilant against the strange creatures’ potential attack.
After flying for a while without incident, not a trace of strangeness, Shawujing grew increasingly uneasy. When things seem too calm, anomalies are sure to follow!
Soon, a light appeared ahead, and he had already reached the top of the Fusang tree.
One of the tree’s branches formed a mountain of leaves, covered in white flowers. Amid the blossoms stood a green mound, and outside it, a stone tablet was erected, inscribed with a line of characters.
Shawujing read the inscription word by word:
“Here lies the husband Meng Qi!”
Boom!
A thunderous roar erupted from below, the Fusang tree slightly swayed, as Shaoxuan, Xi’e, and the Lamp-bearing Divine Envoy clashed fiercely.
Shawujing’s heart stirred, sensing something. He turned his gaze and saw a figure standing silently atop another ancient tree. The figure wore a dark yellow imperial robe, a flat-topped crown upon his head, its tassels hanging down to conceal his face. His aura was ancient and weathered.
He was looking at Shawujing!
…
Between sameness and difference, inspiration gradually emerged. Meng Qi seemed to grasp something and naturally began to activate his True Spirit.
His intuition relied on martial cultivation experience and insight, on earthly knowledge and experience, on experiences of all kinds. These now flew out from his body as luminous fragments, yet did not leave him entirely. They circled around him, connected by radiant starlight.
At this moment, he resembled an opened umbrella, with acquired knowledge outside and innate nature within, yet not completely separated, still linked by connections, forming a unified whole.
For every positive, there is a negative; for every yin, a yang. The acquired and the innate are relative, not strictly divided. The innate can be tainted by the acquired, and the acquired can influence the innate. Thus, slight changes in acquired experiences can subtly alter the innate. To completely discard the acquired is to forsake it merely for the sake of renunciation, like the Taiji symbol, where yin contains yang and yang contains yin. Let us call this Dao.
Each fragment formed different modes of thought, circling Meng Qi, connected by threads of starlight. Where these threads met his self, slight changes occurred, creating subtle differences.
The modes of thought swirled around him—those without martial prowess, those without earthly knowledge, those from when he had transformed into a rat. Meng Qi maintained a sliver of self-awareness, observing them, seeing different yet familiar versions of himself through them.
He could not directly see himself, but by observing these external forms and combining them, Meng Qi seemed to understand himself more clearly. As more memory fragments emerged and joined the swirling halo, his true self became increasingly distinct and pure, resonating faintly with the infinite heights above.
The experiences and insights related to his mental cultivation also flew out. Meng Qi’s perception and thoughts were now entirely different—everything was dim and chaotic, returning to its primordial state. Yet he was not without thought, for his acquired experiences and insights remained connected, merely unable to cloud his true self.
In the deep darkness, Meng Qi looked ahead with his “vision,” sensing no passage of time, no distinction of space, no beginning of all things—this was indeed the innate nature.
At this moment, he “saw” a Daoist priest seated within the chaos, indescribable in words.
“Who are you…” Meng Qi’s heart stirred, and the words “spoke” themselves.
The Daoist priest slowly rose, his voice vast and distant, filled with ancient and solemn resonance:
“I am Yuan Shi.”
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