151: The shackles of worldly desires reveal themselves when seeking enlightenment.
Since that night's eerie dream encounter, Mo Chen's life seemed unchanged. He still lived in seclusion in the valley, leading an ordinary life with Su Wan. But only he knew that inwardly, everything had been turned upside down.
The incessant, urging whispers to kill and plunder, day and night, had vanished. The Demonic Seed remained dormant deep within his Soul, no longer transmitting cold, destructive intentions, as if it had reached a silent agreement with the “Liu Qingtian” in the dream. His power stagnated at its current level, no longer increasing by even a fraction, like a frozen river.
Initially, he felt an unprecedented sense of ease. He no longer had to constantly suppress the restless Demonic Essence, nor was he driven by that endless emptiness and killing intent. He could truly calm his mind, savor the simple meals Su Wan prepared, listen to the zither music flowing from her fingertips, and feel the subtle changes of the four seasons in the valley.
He even began to try living like a true Mortal. In the morning, he would breathe in the morning glow—not Cultivating, but simply breathing; during the day, he tended to his small vegetable patch, observing the process of seeds breaking ground and seedlings growing; at night, he would sit opposite Su Wan, listening to her tell strange tales or recite poems and songs from the Mortal world.
Su Wan keenly noticed his change. The chilling ferocity around him had faded considerably, and his eyes were no longer purely indifferent. Occasionally, when she played a particularly moving piece, a faint hint of 'appreciation' would appear. She rejoiced inwardly, thinking he had finally been softened by this peaceful life, and perhaps one day, he would truly lay down his butcher's knife.
However, this 'peace' did not last long.
The stagnation of power, for Mo Chen, who was accustomed to constantly growing stronger and resolving all problems with power, was itself a slow torment. It was like a bloodthirsty hunter forcibly kept in a warm nest; after the initial comfort passed, deep-seated restlessness and discomfort set in.
He began to examine himself. Over the past five years, he had devoured vast amounts of negative emotions and death Qi. His Demonic Essence was complex and immense, yet it had never been truly refined. The nameless fist technique, derived from instinct, though overbearing and sharp, directly aimed at killing, yet it lacked refinement and deeper variations and Concept. He was like a rough blank, piled high with various rare Ores but never meticulously smelted, possessing weight but unable to become an peerless divine weapon.
“What exactly is my Dao?” For the first time, he truly began to ponder this question.
In the dream, the question he posed to the 'Liu Qingtian' filled with destructive desires now echoed in his own heart.
If it's not just Demonic, then what should it be?
He tried no longer to circulate that fist technique with the purpose of devouring, but to carefully comprehend the true meaning of 'Wither and Flourish' and 'Annihilation' contained within it. He found that when his mind sank into the Concept of all things decaying and stars perishing, the stagnant Demonic Essence in his body would produce a strange resonance, becoming slightly more condensed. Although the total amount did not increase, its quality seemed to have improved.
He also began to recall those who had died by his hand. The brutality of bandits, the greed of powerful lords, the hypocrisy of Sect disciples, and the twisted humanity in times of famine... these negative emotions were once the source of his power.
Now, he tried to retrospectively understand the root causes of these emotions, and their connection to this world and the mysterious 'Dao,' from a detached, almost 'observational' perspective.
This process was far more difficult and painful than mere slaughter. It was like painstakingly peeling away toxins that had integrated into his flesh and blood, while remaining clear-headed enough to analyze their components.
After several months, his power still hadn't increased, but his aura became more restrained and profound. The coldness in his eyes hadn't diminished, but it had gained a depth born of precipitation.
One day, he felt a sudden insight and went alone to a rarely visited cold pond deep in the valley. The pond water was deep and icy, reflecting the drifting clouds in the sky.
He closed his eyes, no longer deliberately circulating any cultivation techniques, but completely emptied his mind, trying to sense the 'chains' that existed in this world, that layer he had always vaguely perceived.
Before, he only felt these chains were restraints, obstacles preventing him from unleashing more power, and he only wished to break them with force.
But at this moment, when he approached it with a relatively 'peaceful' state of mind, he felt something entirely different.
These 'chains'... seemed not to be pure suppression. They were more like... rules. They were the cornerstone that constituted the stable existence of the Qingyuan Realm, the underlying logic that maintained the reproduction of living beings and the Legacy of martial arts in this Realm. They limited the extreme of individual power, but also protected the fragile balance of this world.
“So that’s how it is…” Mo Chen suddenly understood.
These chains are both a restriction and a protection. Like a dam, they restrain the river and prevent it from overflowing.
And his previous method of increasing power solely through plunder and destruction was essentially breaking these rules, which naturally led to the rules' rejection and suppression.
“If I want to Breakthrough in this Realm, either I forcefully tear these rules apart with absolute power, the consequence of which might be the collapse of this Realm and my demise with it; or... I find a path that can coexist with these rules, or even utilize them.”
He couldn't forcefully tear them apart currently; that would require far greater power than he possessed. Moreover, for some reason, the thought of personally destroying this land where he had lived for five years and where Su Wan existed, caused a faint, almost imperceptible trace of... reluctance to well up in his heart.
Then, only the second path remained.
His consciousness, like invisible tentacles, probed the invisible chains of rules more meticulously. He no longer tried to resist, but to understand, to feel theVeins of their operation, the 'Dao' and 'principles' they contained.
Gradually, he seemed to 'see' some vague trajectories. They were a certain extreme of Qi and blood circulation, a harmonious resonance of the Physical Body interacting with heaven and earth energy, a certain frequency of will resonating with the Laws of this space... After an unknown period, he slowly opened his eyes.
The cold pond remained, the drifting clouds remained.
But his eyes became incredibly bright, as if he had seen through some mist.
He raised his hand, not mobilizing the dormant Demonic Essence, but merely relying on the Qi and blood of this Mortal body itself, and a subtle sense of the rules' trajectory, gently waving forward.
There was no earth-shattering commotion, not even a significant gust of wind.
But three zhang away, a tree with a trunk as thick as a bowl silently snapped in half. The cut was smooth as a mirror, as if instantly severed by the sharpest divine weapon! Even more strangely, the broken tree did not fall to the ground but was held up by an invisible force, slowly landing on the grass, without disturbing even a single leaf.
Mo Chen looked at his hand, a flash of realization in his eyes.
He did not use power beyond the limits of this Realm; he merely found a more efficient and precise way of using power within the allowed scope of the rules.
“Is this... a trace of the ‘Dao’?” he murmured to himself.
Although truly Breaking through that layer of chains and entering a higher Realm (Star Shattering Realm) was still distant, he seemed to have found a potentially effective path, different from the pure Demonic Path of plunder.
A path that required comprehending heaven and earth, seeing one's true nature, and dancing with the rules.
This was completely contrary to his destructive Demonic nature, yet it was strangely beginning to sprout within him.
A Mortal heart seeks the Dao, and the chains reveal themselves.
The road ahead was still long, but the direction no longer seemed to be only darkness. The seed sown during that dream encounter finally, through the settling and contemplation in this Mortal world, sprouted its first tender shoot, growing against his Demonic nature.