Volume One: Youths Meet in Humble Times Chapter Forty-Five: The Taoist’s Bait

Li Yu took the Dao scripture, glanced at its cover, and saw three striking characters: The Celestial Illumination Sutra. As he opened it and began to recite, he immediately sensed a difference from those he had read before. The Dao scriptures he had previously studied, while initially unfathomable, all conveyed the manifestations, operations, and inherent qualities of the Dao within the world. Yet this Celestial Illumination Sutra, the deeper he read, the more he found its teachings intertwined with the Netherworld—or rather, it used the opposing qualities of celestial illumination and the nether realm to elucidate the connection between the two. Beneath the surface, he could faintly discern a hidden relation to the Dao as well.

For instance, there was a passage: “Invisible to sight, inaudible to the ear—thus is the Netherworld. The Netherworld is a metaphor for the Dao, and yet it is not the Dao.” He recalled a similar sentiment in the Dao De Jing: “Looked at but not seen, it is named the Subtle; listened for but not heard, it is called the Rare; grasped for but not held, it is called the Minute. These three elude all questioning, and blend into one.” Such descriptions of the Dao seemed to echo the portrayal of the Netherworld.

Another chapter of the Dao De Jing spoke thus: “Above, it is not bright; below, it is not dark. Threadlike and nameless, it returns to the realm of nothingness. It is the form of the formless, the image of the imageless, and is called the Vague and Elusive. Meet it and you do not see its head; follow it and you do not see its back. Hold to the ancient Dao to manage present existence; to understand the origin of antiquity is called the thread of the Dao.” This described the ethereal, elusive nature of the Dao—yet it undeniably exists, the so-called “form of the formless, image of the imageless.” It also expressed that the Dao possesses its own patterns of transformation and movement, and that mastering these patterns is to grasp the root of all things.

Combining this with the Celestial Illumination Sutra’s teaching: “The art of the Dao is subtle and divine; words cannot suffice, yet deeds abound. Because it abounds, it can encompass the four seas and illuminate the Netherworld.” This seemed to suggest that the Netherworld and the Dao possess equal existence. The two are interdependent, yet distinct, with even a faint sense of opposition between them.

The more Li Yu read, the more deeply shaken he became. Could it be that the Netherworld and the Dao hold the same rank in the cosmos? That the Dao is not the sole, absolute supreme existence? If so, then cultivation of the Dao is but one path—might one not also cultivate the Nether?

Or perhaps, is the Netherworld itself another form of the Dao?

If this line of reasoning were followed, then just how many states does the Dao possess? What indeed is the Dao?

As he pondered these questions, he continued reading the Celestial Illumination Sutra, unaware of the strange phenomena beginning to unfold around him.

The Daoist seated beside Li Yu had, since Li Yu began reciting the Celestial Illumination Sutra, quietly lifted the seal of Daoic resonance he had cast. Instantly, an unusual surge of Daoic power began to radiate outward. The Daoist, at the very center of this resonance, felt it most intensely. If he claimed not to feel envy, it would be a lie. To be able to draw forth a resonance with heaven and earth—this owed not only to Li Yu’s Dao-born body, but also to his innate understanding.

Some people read merely for reading’s sake, achieving only through toil and perseverance. But for one as gifted and insightful as Li Yu, even a mere beginning yields rewards. Such a heaven-bestowed talent for the path of cultivation would inspire envy in any soul.

Even the Daoist himself, under the influence of this resonance, sensed a subtle stirring in his long-stagnant cultivation. For those who, like him, have ascended to such heights, even the slightest progress is as difficult as reaching the heavens. Yet today, merely by sitting at Li Yu’s side, he found advancement within easy reach. Should others discover Li Yu’s ability, chaos and bloodshed would certainly follow.

This Daoic resonance differed from that evoked by previous readings of the Dao scriptures. Those earlier resonances owed partly to the profound Daoic atmosphere of the Youyi Temple, but here, in the vast expanse of the sea—where the great Dao was in some ways repelled—Li Yu still managed to evoke a resonance. There could be only one explanation: he had begun to grasp the very essence of the Dao.

Indeed—the Netherworld is Dao, and yet not Dao. It could be said that the Netherworld is another aspect of the Dao. If the Daoist and his kind cultivated the Dao of their own world, then the Dao of the Netherworld was that of another realm. Where that realm lies, however, remains a mystery.

All enlightenment points to one destination: What, ultimately, is the Dao?

And this was precisely what the Daoist hoped Li Yu would discover.

The surface of the sea, affected by the resonance Li Yu had triggered, was swept by wild winds and surging clouds. The waves roared as if intending to overturn their vessel and swallow them into the abyssal gloom. Overhead, clouds gathered before anyone noticed, as if all the darkness within a thousand miles pressed down upon this narrow world, evoking an apocalyptic sense of heaven and earth collapsing.

Such tumult naturally reached as far as Tianmen Town, a thousand miles away, where fishermen, seeing the weather turn, hastened back to port. The sea grew ever more violent as they returned, and when they finally stood on shore and looked back upon the ocean, terror swept over them. Never had they seen such an end-of-days scene. All were grateful to have heeded the Daoist’s warning not to venture out to deep waters that day—otherwise, they might now be claimed by the sea.

The commotion was not confined to fishermen; the entire town of Tianmen turned its gaze toward the ocean, hearts filled with dread and questions about the world’s end.

The impact of this resonance was far greater than before. Those who had experienced the previous event—the old woman, the blacksmith, the two scholars—felt surprise, but not shock.

But for the true cultivators, the resonance left the greatest impression on the elders of the five great families, whose clans had flourished in Tianmen Town for centuries, including those from the Wang and Zhang families, who had previously sought answers about the central stone stele.

In a secluded cave within green mountains, five ancient elders were in meditation. To their astonishment, the wave of Daoic resonance traveled a thousand miles, pierced their protective wards, and roused them from their union with heaven. Among them was the very elder who had once tested Li Yu at the shoreline.

All five awoke simultaneously, faces etched with shock and confusion. When they sensed the resonance, their apprehension of the Daoist deepened. The Wang patriarch asked, “Fourth, do you think it’s still that Daoist?”

The elder addressed as Fourth, Zhang Xi, pondered and replied, “It can only be him.”

Another elder, Zhao Dong, said, “Didn’t you say he brought a child? Could there be something strange about that child?”

Zhang Xi replied, “Second brother, when I encountered the resonance through my outer avatar last time, its source was that Daoist’s temple. Because I was only an avatar, I dared not investigate further. Others who tried were injured. As for the child, I tested him myself—he’s only half-dragon, not even possessing a dragon pearl. How could he possibly cause such a world-shaking disturbance?”

Elder Guo Nan remained silent, but the one called Fifth, Chen Bei, sighed, “If it truly is the Daoist, how strong has he become? Perhaps… he’s already reached the legendary realm.”

The eldest, Wang Zhong, gave a cold laugh. “If that is so, unless he solves the mystery of Tianmen Town, his end is not far off.”

The others, considering his words, also laughed, save for Guo Nan who remained silent. Wang Zhong noted his gravity and asked, “Third brother, do you have something to say?”

Guo Nan replied, “Eldest brother, if the Daoist truly has reached that realm but doesn’t wish to solve the mystery, what do you think he’ll do next?”

Yes, until now, they had only considered things from their own perspective. Who would willingly abandon the chance for immortality? Who would give up all their cultivation and perish in the Dao? After these words, their hearts grew heavy. After deliberating, Wang Zhong said, “No, we cannot take any risks. If he truly has reached that realm, he could easily kill us all before dissolving into the Dao. Fourth brother, send word to your avatar—go immediately to the source of the resonance and see what the Daoist is up to. If he’s not breaking through, all is well. But if he is, find a way to interrupt him. No matter what, we must prevent him from reaching that false immortal realm.”

While the five elders plotted, the City Lord’s mansion and the academy were embroiled in similar discussions.

In the City Lord’s residence, a man in brocade robes mocked the City Lord, “He’s provoked you again and again right under your nose—can you really bear this?”

The City Lord calmly sipped his tea, eyes half-closed, savoring the resonance. “Why shouldn’t I endure? He’s done nothing, after all. If you ask me, you’d do better to quiet your mind and appreciate the Daoic essence in this resonance—you might find it’s your own opportunity for breakthrough.”

The brocade-robed man, frustrated by the City Lord’s composure, replied angrily, “Zhang Helun, don’t think you can do as you please just because I’m showing you some respect. Don’t forget, I represent the Court Sorcerer.”

Zhang Helun opened his eyes, set down his cup, and fixed his gaze on the man. “Sun Li, let me be clear: you may represent the Court Sorcerer, but this is Tianmen Town. Here, I am in charge. Do as you will, but don’t tell me what to do. I’ll say this outright: that Daoist’s strength now surpasses both yours and mine. He may even have reached the legendary realm of ascension. Tell the Court Sorcerer if you wish—I trust he’ll judge accordingly. But if you’re looking for death, I won’t stop you.”

With that, he swept his sleeve and left—perhaps to find a quieter place to savor the resonance.

At the academy, the old and new scholars both sat in silence, grave expressions betraying their feelings as they absorbed the Daoic resonance. The old scholar murmured, “Judging by the direction, this comes from the ocean, separate from the Dao itself! Just how powerful is he? Could he truly have reached that legendary realm?”

The new scholar, though young, possessed eyes as deep as the sea and as radiant as the starry sky. Yet even he, for all his erudition, could not fathom the Daoist’s actions. He resolved to see for himself, and with a single parting command, vanished: “Send word to the Academy. Report every detail of what has happened here and have them dispatch more people at once.”

Those who had already been cowed by the Daoist’s power dared not act rashly this time, fearing to bring disaster upon themselves. Yet when they sensed two distinct auras flying toward the sea, they could not help but feel a secret delight: “Let’s see if they find what they’re looking for this time.”