Chapter Forty-Four: Discourse on the Dao

“May I hear your esteemed discourse?” Ye Ziyin straightened his posture, gesturing for Zuo Qingcheng to sit.

“Haha, you’re a clever child, unlike those two—one feigns dumbness, the other’s more stubborn than Old Minggu, never heeding the words of Old Che. Heh, trouble lies ahead.” Che Zhonglou winked at Wuzhui, who grinned back, making the old man even more pleased. “You humans are the pride of heaven; you should understand reason and wisdom. When it comes to the true arts and methods, there is neither right nor wrong in this world. Black cat or white cat, the one that catches mice is the good cat. If you want to judge which cat among them is superior or inferior, good or bad, I think it’s difficult. Your sects may be many, but how many true experts roam the world? How many have achieved immortality or Buddhahood?”

“This…” Zuo Qingcheng looked to Lord Ziyin, who then glanced at Lin Feng.

Not only the mortals, even Lin Feng found it hard to answer this question, especially since he was still wagering with Che Zhonglou and could not speak.

“Listen to him,” Lin Feng told everyone.

“Eh, boy, why not just admit defeat? Why wrestle with me? Old Che has never lost a bet with these fellows. If you have reason, argue it—why suffer in silence?” Che Zhonglou kept provoking him, but Lin Feng refused to yield. He had his own plans for besting Che Zhonglou.

Seeing everyone remain silent, Che Zhonglou stroked his white brows and continued, “Without the path of immortality, there can be no fulfillment. Since ancient times, those who attained immortal bodies were few, but not insignificant, and my Demon Sect claims seven or eight out of ten. If nothing unexpected happens, in the next century at least a dozen experts will transcend their tribulations and ascend. And among you so-called righteous humans, who can guarantee safe passage through the tribulation? I suppose there aren’t many experts in the current separation stage?”

“Hmph! Monsters naturally live several times longer than humans; with more time, they can prepare better. What’s so remarkable about a few more ascensions?” Zuo Qingcheng retorted angrily.

“Wrong! It has little to do with time. When heaven’s tribulation descends, you cannot escape it.” Che Zhonglou sighed. “Surviving the tribulation lets you refine immortal essence and ascend to the immortal realm at any moment. Yet since ancient times, countless beings have fallen at that hurdle.”

“According to you, those who survive the tribulation and become immortals are the true path?” Zuo Qingcheng sneered. “In our human race, over countless millennia, there have been innumerable sages and great scholars. I ask you, has your kind ever produced a single sage?”

His words drew loud approval from the two guards, Ye Ziyin nodded silently, and Lin Feng found himself impressed by Zuo Qingcheng’s meticulous mind—a soldier indeed fit to be a good general.

Unexpectedly, Che Zhonglou first threw his head back in laughter, then declared aloud, “The so-called sage is pure self-deceit. Compile a few doctrines, gather a flock of sycophants, and you call that sagehood? In my view, founding a sect, establishing a school—these are the marks of a true sage. Your Thousand Leaf Master of Hundred Flowers Sect, your Mokha Patriarch of Floating Buddha Temple—these are sages. The rest are false, not worth mentioning!”

“In your opinion, what is the way in this world?” The one-armed Zuo Qingcheng was about to flare up, but Ziyin spoke first.

“The way is the path to truth. There are three thousand ways, but only one truth. How many extraordinary sages have sacrificed themselves, seeking the ultimate truth, yet could not glimpse even a fraction of it? The principle, the principle—without reaching it, you cannot know its true face.” Che Zhonglou sighed, his expression tinged with melancholy.

Liu Yun and Liao Kai listened in confusion; Zuo Qingcheng snorted and stayed silent, Wuzhui closed his eyes in meditation, while Lin Feng and Ziyin appeared deep in thought. The room fell into a quiet hush.

The path of heaven is long, and common folk will never touch its edge in a lifetime. Three thousand roads—yet which is the true one? Lin Feng felt lost and bewildered.

“My Demon Sect has three strict commandments: never interfere in human disputes, never vie for supremacy in the cultivation world, never neglect cultivation. After countless ages, we’ve achieved our current dominant position. Though we ignore worldly affairs, no one dares bully us. The six divisions of demon cultivation each have their domains, twelve demon kings rule their halls, far more unified than your righteous factions.” Che Zhonglou deliberately sowed discord, always mentioning the rivalry between demon and righteous paths.

“What are the six divisions of demon cultivation? Who are the twelve demon kings?” With the inquisitive Prince Ziyin present, many questions Lin Feng wanted to ask were spoken for him.

“The six divisions are the six races of my demon clan: the Dragon Clan, Eagle Clan, Ape Clan, Sea Demon Clan, Lion Beast Clan, and the Strange Clan. Hundreds of thousands of demon cultivators all belong to these six. The Bright Dragon Emperor, Peng City Emperor, Great Ape King, Golden Elephant King—all rule the wilderness, four seas, and twelve halls. Among them, the Bright Dragon Emperor has the deepest cultivation and is the foremost emperor about to transcend tribulation and ascend.” Che Zhonglou explained.

“Is the gentleman one of the twelve demon kings?” Ye Ziyin asked.

Everyone looked up at Old Che.

“Haha, am I that formidable? Which demon king would be so idle as to chat with you at night? I am merely an old demon wandering about. Enough about that.” Che Zhonglou, intentionally concealing his identity, changed the topic. “Where are you all headed? And you, youngster, why aren’t you cultivating quietly in Hundred Flowers Sect, but out wandering the world?”

“No comment!” Zuo Qingcheng rolled his large coppery eyes.

Ye Ziyin hesitated, glanced at Lin Feng, then lowered his head to sip his tea.

Shrewd Che Zhonglou didn’t mind, laughed twice, and said, “In that case, Old Che will take his leave. You all carry on.”

Che Zhonglou laughed heartily and vanished from the room, truly coming and going without a trace.

Everyone’s tense mood relaxed. Lin Feng surveyed them and said, “People’s hearts are dangerous; we don’t know his origins. Best not to provoke him. I think we shouldn’t stay in Gaoshang Town any longer. If the recent conflict is discovered, our whereabouts will surely be exposed.”

“Yes! Brother Lin speaks the truth. Who would have thought such a small town would hide such a supreme master? The world is indeed full of hidden dragons and crouching tigers,” Zuo Qingcheng lamented.

Ye Ziyin frowned, regretful. “Senior Che’s powers are unfathomable. If he aided us, we could resist a thousand armies. Sadly, he’s not one of us; his heart is unpredictable.”

“Don’t forget, Ziyin—he just said the Demon Sect forbids interfering in human disputes. Everything depends on ourselves,” Lin Feng said.

“Yes, thank you for your guidance, Brother Lin,” Ye Ziyin replied respectfully.

Lin Feng waved his hand. The group packed their belongings through the night, left silver coins, and set off north along the official road…

At dawn, the carriage reached a village. About a mile outside, they found a sun-dried grain yard and sat down to rest, closing their eyes for a brief nap. Only then did Lin Feng and Wuzhui have time to converse.

“Wuzhui, what secret did Che Zhonglou impart to you?”

“I… I can’t really say. It seems imprinted directly in my spiritual consciousness. Many things, very chaotic… yet very wondrous.” Wuzhui searched for the right words, communicating telepathically with Lin Feng.

“I see, that’s the feeling of sudden enlightenment. Demon cultivation is truly marvelous. By the way, Wuzhui, you were picked up by me. From now on, let’s call each other brothers. I’m more than ten years older than you, so call me ‘big brother’ and let me hear it.”

“Big… big brother,” Wuzhui replied nervously after a moment, transmitting his words telepathically.

“Haha, excellent! You must diligently cultivate and transcend tribulation to become human soon!” Lin Feng hugged Wuzhui’s neck, overflowing with excitement.

Wuzhui stuck out his tongue, wolfish head nodding repeatedly, clearly delighted. The two were stirred for a long time before settling down.

“Big brother, may I make a request?” Wuzhui asked, a bit embarrassed.

“Hm? What request? Speak freely,” Lin Feng replied with a smile.

“Well… look at my belly. I eat steamed buns every day, but there’s no fat, and my fur isn’t shiny. In Hundred Flowers Sect, Xiao Hua and the others always laugh at me.” Wuzhui’s face was filled with grievance, his tail wagging furiously.

“Uh, who’s Xiao Hua?” Lin Feng chuckled helplessly.

“That thief bird, Golden Winged Finch—he gave himself that disgusting name. He’s always flirting with Xue Man and Xiang Ling, stealing their beautiful feathers,” Wuzhui grumbled, pouring out his complaints to Lin Feng.

“Haha, I see. When we return, I’ll be sure to teach him a lesson. Don’t worry, before I forbade you from eating meat because I feared you’d go astray and follow your parents’ path. Now we have silver, we’ll feast on meat every meal—pork, beef, lamb, all sorts.”

Wuzhui was overjoyed, his grin stretched a foot wide. After his excitement, he asked timidly, “Big brother, my parents… are they gone?”

Lin Feng was startled, quickly comforting him, “Don’t think nonsense. Cultivate well. When you become human, I’ll tell you everything.”

Wuzhui looked at him carefully for a while, then nodded, “Okay, I trust you, big brother.”

The two took advantage of the moment to sit in meditation, restoring their spirits. Cultivating qi also relieves fatigue; once their cultivation reaches a certain stage, sleep becomes unnecessary.

As the sun rose, the village ahead remained eerily quiet, no sign of people, no crowing of roosters, no living creatures. A faint sense of foreboding suddenly rose in Lin Feng’s heart.

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