Volume One: Youths Meet in Humble Times Chapter Thirty-Three: A Sword’s Inquiry to the Heavens

These words left Li Yu somewhat enlightened, yet still somewhat confused. If the Heavenly Aperture was truly a passage, didn't that mean that humans were born with a channel connecting them to the world, only that this channel was blocked? But if someone could open it, wouldn't that imply that everyone could cultivate? This thought he kept to himself, feeling as though it was meddling with the workings of fate, an impulse that some unseen force cautioned him not to pursue for now.

He shifted the topic and asked, "Since Master wants me to walk the path of the sword through martial might, does Great Sword Green Mountain have any relevant inner energy cultivation techniques?"

The Daoist gave him a teasing look and said, "What you really want to ask is—since it's possible to pursue the sword path without the Heavenly Aperture, could you still go to Great Sword Green Mountain to cultivate, right?"

Li Yu couldn't miss the mockery in his master’s tone, and he replied with a grin, "If I'd known from the start that Master was nothing like an immortal sage, I might have gone to seek out Brother Lu Ming instead."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the Daoist rapped him on the head again, saying with a touch of schadenfreude, "Well, there's nothing to be done. Once you’ve entered my tutelage, unless I permit it, you'd best forget about changing allegiances."

Then he explained further, "Essentially, the sword path I want you to take is still that of martial force; it differs from the true Sword Dao. It's more accurate to call it strength than Dao. Dao is the law itself, while strength is merely the application of law."

Li Yu began to understand and continued, "So, just as the true Fire Dao can give rise to many kinds of fire, each with its own use, is that correct?"

The Daoist nodded approvingly. "Exactly. What I am teaching you, the sword of strength, is in essence swordsmanship. But then, who’s to say that swordsmanship, taken to its utmost, cannot touch upon the very essence of the Sword Dao? And after all, is strength truly not Dao? What lies at the end of strength—I can't say for sure myself."

There was a hint of regret and curiosity in the Daoist's last words. Sensing this, Li Yu decided not to let his master sink further into contemplation and changed the subject again, "But Master, you still haven't explained why Great Sword Green Mountain won’t let those without Daoist talent walk the path of the sword through martial might."

As expected, his master rapped him on the head again. "What’s the rush? I was just getting to that! You think you can just walk this path because you want to? Otherwise, everyone without talent for the Sword Dao would flock to cultivate the sword, and those people would not only become immortals but also the most formidable among cultivators. Do you think they're fools, choosing not to do so if they could? It's simply that it's impossible. The sword of strength is, at its core, the martial path. Those at Great Sword Green Mountain who wish to change their path midway or reconcile the two in pursuit of the same goal find it’s just not possible."

"Why is that?"

"Because the paths do not merge."

This topic seemed to touch something deep within the Daoist, and his tone grew heavier, losing its previous lightness. "Ultimately, Dao is the path a person walks in their life—a personal trajectory. We can walk many paths, but they are taken one after the other, never side by side. I’ve never heard of two paths running concurrently on the same road. If that were so, wouldn’t it still be one path? And if so, what would that path be that could contain all others?"

This time, Li Yu did not reply. He found himself equally perplexed. Before long, the Daoist chuckled self-deprecatingly. "It’s too soon to be discussing this with you. In short, Great Sword Green Mountain only accepts those who can cultivate the Sword Dao. For those who attempt the sword through martial might, they may offer guidance but will never take them as disciples—for the simple reason that it’s impossible."

Hearing this, a thought suddenly sprang up in Li Yu's mind, impossible to suppress. He couldn't help but ask, "Master, you want me to reach the Sword Dao through martial arts—not just because I was born a sword embryo, but is it also connected to Great Sword Green Mountain?"

The Daoist grinned mischievously. "So you've noticed. Actually, I just want to prove to them that my idea is right—that it's possible to reach the Sword Dao through the martial path."

Li Yu ventured, "Does Master have some dispute or grudge with Great Sword Green Mountain?"

The Daoist knew at once what worried him and didn't tease further. "Don't worry. I have no enmity with your Brother Lu Ming’s Great Sword Green Mountain. I merely once had a debate with their Swordmaster. Neither of us would yield [regarding the Daoist’s way of the sword], but you know your master—I’m not one to concede so easily. I have to make him admit I'm right! So, Little Fish, you must train hard—not just for yourself, but for your master as well. Help me prove to them that I am not mistaken!"

Moved by his words, Li Yu solemnly promised, "Yes, Master, I will. I will train diligently." Then, curiosity compelled him to ask, "So, Master, what was your debate about?"

Hearing the sincerity of Li Yu's promise, the Daoist felt, for the first time, a genuine sense of fulfillment—a disciple at last! He ruffled Li Yu's hair and laughed, "That’s a long story for another day."

Li Yu shrugged helplessly. "Master, all your stories are long stories."

"Hahaha! When you live as long as I have, you'll have plenty of long stories of your own. If you want to hear mine, then cultivate well. Only once you are strong enough will you be worthy of hearing them, understand?"

With that, Li Yu could only agree with a hearty laugh. Whether he could accomplish this, he had no idea. But as his grandmother used to say, whether you can achieve something is one thing; whether you are willing to give it your all is another. The former is about ability, the latter about attitude. Ability is but human effort, and human effort has its limits. In this life, the only thing you can truly control from beginning to end is your own sincere attitude.

"Then Master, how should I train?"

The Daoist placed one hand atop Li Yu's crown, reciting no incantation or formula. From afar, it looked as if the Daoist was simply resting his hand on Li Yu's head as they walked forward. After some thirty paces, the Daoist released him and asked, "Do you understand now?"

The moment the Daoist touched his head, Li Yu's expression became dazed, as if he was no longer in this time and place. When the hand was lifted and the Daoist spoke, Li Yu seemed to awaken from a dream. He asked in disbelief, "Master, what is this method of sword energy cultivation?"

The Daoist, face inscrutable, replied, "This technique is my own creation. Until today, it had no name. But since you are to practice it from now on, I shall call it 'Questioning the Heavens.'"

This time, Li Yu did not feel his master was boasting. He had indeed just entered an illusionary realm; judging by what he’d seen, this energy cultivation method was worthy of its name. Even after hearing the name, he was still immersed in the grand vision he had just witnessed.

It was, without question, the most magnificent sight he had ever seen. He knew his master was strong, but he had not imagined he would be this strong. What he had just experienced—was this not a miracle?

Of course, that was assuming he could ever reach the ideal heights of his master’s technique.

Since their conversation had turned to matters of cultivation, their pace had slowed considerably. Along the way, the Daoist would occasionally greet the people around them. Watching from the side, Li Yu noticed how well-liked his master was; nearly everyone they met would exchange a few warm words with him. Yet he also realized that all those who greeted them were ordinary townsfolk—there was not a single official or cultivator among them. Their conversations were all about daily life, full of the earthy warmth of the common world.

After imparting his method, the Daoist knew Li Yu would need time to absorb it. Seeing the sun still high, he found a place in the shade where they could sit together. He untied the gourd at his waist and, basking in sunlight and shadow, took a deep drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "So many storms for the blossoming flowers; so many farewells in a human life," he murmured.

Li Yu didn’t hear his master’s words. His mind was completely immersed in the newly bestowed method, Questioning the Heavens. Strangely, after the Daoist had poured the method into his mind, it began to circulate in his body of its own accord. His task was to memorize the route of the energy and learn how to direct it. He tried to memorize it repeatedly, but soon realized that mere memorization was not enough to retain it. It could not be triggered by reciting formulas or making hand seals. If he were a true cultivator, he might have used the methods of guiding energy into the body to aid the process.

He understood this was a test from his master, to see if he could grasp the method on his own. As for fully mastering it, that could come with time.

Next, he tried a variety of approaches—visualizing the energy's movement, drawing diagrams of its flow within his body—but none worked.

A formally trained martial artist might have known at once how to proceed. Different techniques could simulate or transform the internal vital energy into various elemental properties—wind, fire, water, lightning, the most common elements of nature. But Li Yu’s path was swordsmanship, one of the most destructive forces under heaven, and a martial path acquired only after birth. What this path truly represented, few could say.

For someone as green as Li Yu, mastering this was nearly impossible. The Daoist, of course, wanted to test his disciple’s talent, but he also knew this was a tall order for him now. So, seeing that Li Yu had made no progress after some time, he decided not to push him further. After all, there was still time to teach him slowly.

Just as he was about to call out to Li Yu, his eyes widened in disbelief. In his heart, he murmured, "He actually found the method of circulating energy on his own."

From the Daoist’s perspective, the energy within Li Yu was no longer being forced through his body by external willpower. Instead, it was moving slowly under Li Yu’s own conscious direction—passive had become active. At this moment, Li Yu had truly set foot on the path of martial cultivation.