Unsheathed

Cultivation of power was the foundation to self-preservation, but cultivation of the mind was the key to ascending to greater heights.

Regardless of how one chose to pursue the Great Dao, occasionally, there would come times when they would need to make way for others.

Chen Ping’an stared blankly into the distance with a sullen look on his face. The world was so massive, yet he had no one to speak his thoughts to and could only keep them bottled up.

All of a sudden, a thought occurred to him, and he pulled a piece of charcoal out of his minimization treasure.

He then drew a large circle onto the dock before crouching down in the circle and drawing a line that split the circle up into two sections.

From there, he crouched beside the line and remained silent for a long while with his brows tightly furrowed.

After a long pause, he removed the Sword Nurturing Gourd from his waist and took a swig of crow caw wine from it, and only after that did he write down the words “good” and “evil” on the opposing halves of the circle.

On this night, he was determined to make a breakthrough on the concept of the singularity, a concept that he hadn’t been willing or able to consider deeply in the past.

Chen Ping’an remained in a crouched position, straddling the line between good and evil as he wrote down the phrase “put people first,” then murmured to himself, “That’s all I can think about for now.”

He closed his eyes and took another sip of wine, then opened his eyes and stood up as he made his way around the edge of the “good” semi-circle. From there, he walked straight through the circle to the other side, drawing a line as he went. He repeated the process once more, and in the end, the circle was split up into six parts, with all of the lines intersecting at one point at the center of the circle.

After doing all of that, it was as if he had suddenly arrived at some type of epiphany, and he quickly made his way into the “good” semicircle, then began rapidly scribbling something down onto the central one of the three sectors in the semicircle while murmuring to himself, “If this represents those who are most earnest and determined to strive for goodness, then regardless of which of the Three Teachings or Hundred Schools of Thought that they subscribe to, even if they’ve never read a book in their life and don’t know how to read, these are the people who will be most receptive to the principles of the world.

“There won’t even be any need for a wise man to preach to such individuals as they’ll be willing to seek out the right principles of their own accord, and regardless of how much hardship they face, they’ll remain true to themselves!”

Chen Ping’an quickly rose to his feet and made his way into the opposite sector, situated in the center of the “evil” semicircle.

From there, he crouched down and began writing once again as he continued to murmured to himself, “Human nature is evil at its core, but the connotations of the word evil here aren’t necessarily all negative. Instead, it describes another type of instinct in the hearts of humans, namely one’s instinctive sense of the singularity in the world. This spurs them on to fight, to covet, to maximize one’s own interests.

“Unlike those in the previous sector, who see beyond their own life and death to higher purposes like the three eternal pursuits of Confucianism, for those in this sector, one’s self is the entire world. In their eyes, if I die, then the world dies. If I live, then the world lives. To them, the small singularity that is the self is no less important than the big singularity that is the entire world.

“It’s the same reasoning behind Zhu Lian’s explanation of why he wouldn’t be willing to kill someone to save the world, just as he wouldn’t be willing to kill someone to not save the world! Once again, the connotations aren’t necessarily entirely negative as it’s simply a pure reflection of human nature. I haven’t seen it with my own eyes, but I’m confident that this concept has once served as a catalyst for the evolution of the world.

“Only those who have their hearts firmly rooted in this sector can be capable of saying things like ‘Once I’m dead, who cares if the entire world perishes!’ However, all sentient beings of the world share this innate quality, and it’s a foundational quality that makes us human, or at least one such quality.

“This explains why so many unjust people are still able to cultivate to immortality with no problems and can even live better lives than the supposed good people. Heaven and earth has nurtured all living beings without bias, and it does not judge living beings based on our perceived notions of good and evil.”

After taking a large swig of wine, Chen Ping’an made his way over to the rightmost point on the upper semicircle.

“The hearts of those in this sector are not as resilient as those of the people in the neighboring sector to the right. They are more hesitant and easy to sway, but overall, they are still on the side of good.

“However, their hearts will change in accordance with the shifting circumstances around them, and in order to remain on the path of goodness, they require the principles of the Three Teachings and the Hundred Schools of Thought to guide them, to warn them that the heavens are watching in everything that they do, and that all of their actions serve to tilt the scale of karma in some way.”

From there, Chen Ping’an was struck by another flash of inspiration, and he strode over to the “good” and “evil” near the center of the circle and added some more writings. Above them, he wrote “Willing to believe that there is more to life than transactions and exchanges,” while below them, he inscribed the phrase “If something was given for no tangible returns, then that is a sacrifice to the detriment of the singularity that is the self.”

Chen Ping’an withdrew his charcoal pen as he murmured to himself, “As soon as one feels as if they’ve suffered a loss that’s detrimental to themselves, they will be filled with agitation and self-doubt. They’ll begin to look around with the intention of recovering what they’ve lost from elsewhere, perhaps even with interest.

“This explains why things are so chaotic in Bamboo Scroll Lake. Everyone is struggling with all their might to gain back what they’ve lost, protect what they have, and covet what others possess. This is why there are many people who were wronged by the world at one point, then go on to retaliate against the world at a later point without any care for the collateral damage that they cause.

“They don’t do this purely for survival. Gu Can is an example of this. He’s already living a very good life, yet somehow, he has still become someone who enjoys killing others. This evolution isn’t purely attributable to the circumstances in Bamboo Scroll Lake.

“Instead, this was always a seed that was present in his heart to begin with, and as soon as he came into contact with a larger environment, such as Bamboo Scroll Lake, that seed would have the space and freedom to grow unchecked, and he would naturally begin to covet the singularity that belongs to others, whether that be in the form of their wealth, their lives, or anything else.”

Chen Ping’an strode over to the leftmost point of the upper semicircle as he continued, “The hearts of the people here are the most chaotic. They want to be good, but they don’t know how. They want to be evil, but they don’t dare. These are the people that would be the most likely to regard principles as useless hindrances, and even though they’re on the good half of the circle, they could just as easily fall into depravity and evil.

“That’s why there are so many pretentious false gentlemen in this world. According to Buddhist scriptures, even the Buddha himself was worried about the arrival of the degenerate age of Dharma. The people in this sector live perhaps the most laborious lives of all, constantly resigned to wherever the tide takes them.

“I once said to Gu Can that the freedom of all powerful individuals is derived from their ability to protect this sector of people so that they don’t have to worry about those in the central sector of the lower semicircle, and so that they don’t have to worry about everything that they’ve worked so hard to create and accumulate being destroyed in the blink of an eye.

“Under the protection of the powerful, these people can refuse to follow the rules, they don’t even have to know the rules, and perhaps they can even actively go against the rules and still live just fine.”

Chen Ping’an rose to his feet and made his way to the opposite sector, the rightmost one in the lower semicircle, then continued his writing.

“For the people in this sector and the central sector next to it, preaching principles like ‘laying down one’s killing blade is the only path to salvation’ is bound to be a futile endeavor as such principles will only fall upon deaf ears.”

The leftmost sector of the lower semicircle was still empty, but Chen Ping’an’s complexion was already deathly pale, and it seemed that he had already completely and utterly exhausted himself. He took a large swig of wine, then struggled to his feet in an unsteady fashion, and at this point, the piece of charcoal in his hand had already been whittled down to only the size of a fingernail.

Even after taking a moment to compose himself, his fingers were trembling too badly for him to continue his writings. He took a deep breath, then raised a hand with some difficulty to wipe the sweat from his forehead before making another attempt to continue his writings, but he had only just begun to bend down when he abruptly collapsed onto his backside.

He set his Sword Nurturing Gourd onto the ground with one hand while simultaneously opening the fingers of his other hand, allowing the small piece of charcoal left in his grasp to roll onto the ground. From there, he simply laid on his back on the dock.

“Confucians advocate for the concept of empathy, while Buddhists preach kindness, but both of those ideals are very difficult to achieve in the world that we live in. Instead, the concept of the sincere heart first proposed by the Second Sage and the notion of returning to a simple, childlike state of mind proposed by the Dao Ancestor seem to be more…”

Chen Ping’an’s voice trailed off here as he struggled arduously to his feet, then backed out of the incomplete circle. He stared intently at the circle, then focused his gaze on the “good” and “evil” that he had first inscribed onto the ground at the center of the circle.

He reached out an unsteady, trembling hand, as if he wanted to grasp the entire circle.

At this point, he barely even knew what he was saying himself, and he was completely immersed in his own thoughts.

“Is it plausible to cast aside concepts of good and evil altogether and only consider the differences between humans and divinity and the fundamental nature of humans? Otherwise, this circle still struggles to stand up on its own. That requires… elevation? I can no longer be bound to the principles laid out in books or even the principles of Confucianism to purely expand this circle. Instead, I need to go higher.

“If that’s the case, then it makes sense to me now. Things are not like what I had previously thought at all. It’s not that the principles of the world have different barriers to entry. Instead, I must walk around this circle and constantly be looking. Just because there are differences in mentality in humans doesn’t mean that certain mentalities are superior or inferior to others.

“The objective of the sages of the Three Teachings is not to make everyone the same. Instead, it’s to take all of these different mentalities and draw them into their most desirable sectors. If I don’t go looking higher and don’t walk around this circle for now.

“If, instead, I look at the sequential order of things and take a step back, and instead of looking at the hearts of man, I look solely at the true, fundamental state of the world, then the principles of Confucianism are designed to expand and stabilize the foundation of this world, while Daoists aim to elevate this world so that us humans can transcend beyond all other living, sentient beings.”

Chen Ping’an closed his eyes as he pulled out a bamboo slip, one that was etched with the bleak, yet mesmerizing writing of a great Confucian scholar. At the time, he had only felt like his thoughts had been strange, yet clear, but looking back at them now, it seemed that by pursuing those thoughts deeper, he had been able to glean some of the fundamental truths of Daoism.

“In a pond of water, an ant clings to a lilypad for dear life, thinking that they are trapped in an inhospitable world with no safe haven for survival. Only after the pond dries does the ant realize that it can actually go anywhere that it so wishes.

“Daoists wish for us humans to not be like unintelligent creatures like ants. Instead, we must look at this world from a higher vantage point and differentiate ourselves from the animals and plants of the natural world. What about Buddhists?”

Chen Ping’an reached out to draw a circle with both hands, then continued, “They work in tandem with the breadth of Confucianism and the depth of Daoism to combine all of the worlds seamlessly into one. Does this mean that I know a little about that singularity now?”

Chen Ping’an’s voice trailed off here, and he fell back with a dull thud, completely spent. He closed his eyes as tears streamed down from his cheeks, and he wiped a hand over his own face, then raised it above himself.

He peered through the gaps in his fingers with tear-filled eyes in a half-conscious, half-asleep state. He was already exhausted to the extreme, yet deep down his heart was filled with elation, and he murmured to himself, “When the dark clouds clear, both the sky and the sea are revealed to be as bright and clear as ever.”

From there, he slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep with a faint smile on his face.

For the first time, Chen Ping’an was able to enjoy a deep and blissful sleep on Cyan Gorge Island, and he did so in the large circle that he had drawn onto the dock.

Some time later, an azure-robed man and a stunning, green-robed woman with her hair arranged into a ponytail arrived at the dock, almost at the exact same time.

The two of them didn’t communicate verbally with one another. In fact, not even any eye contact was established between the two.

One of them was Zhong Kui, who had failed to return the letter that Chen Ping’an had sent to Peace and Tranquility Mountain, but had come all the way to visit Chen Ping’an in person. He picked up what little remained of the piece of charcoal that had fallen out of Chen Ping’an’s hand, then crouched down beside the leftmost sector of the lower semicircle that had been left blank.

He wanted to write something, but was hesitant about what to write. However, not only was he not frustrated by this predicament, his eyes were alight with a smile as he mused, “A tall mountain stands up ahead. Will I, a former noble scholar, be forced to walk around it?”

Ruan Xiu remained standing outside of the circle at the end of one of the lines, snacking on some new pastries that she had purchased from Green Parasol City as she remarked in a slightly muffled voice, “He was still yet to articulate the differences between humans and divinity.”

Zhong Kui held the piece of charcoal in his hand and swept his gaze over the surrounding area as he said, “It is in the face of extreme hardship and adversity that one must display their courage, and Chen Ping’an has done exactly that.”

“With a clear heart and conscience, all principles will be illuminated and made clear,” Ruan Xiu chimed in.

Only then did Zhong Kui turn to look at her for the first time, and he said, “You better not take advantage of Chen Ping’an while he’s asleep! Having said that, if you insist on doing so, I can turn my back and pretend not to see anything. As a gentleman, I know not to interrupt a good thing!”

Ruan Xiu also turned to look at Zhong Kui for the first time, and a befuddled look appeared on her face as she mused, “Your name is Zhong Kui, right? You’re a rather strange… ghost. I can’t quite comprehend you.”

“That guy understands me, and that’s why I’ve come here,” Zhong Kui said as he pointed a finger at the snoring Chen Ping’an behind him.

Zhong Kui swept his gaze over the surrounding Bamboo Scroll Lake, which most certainly appeared different to him than it did the average person, and he murmured to himself, “If I am the only gentleman in this world, then how massive a shithole would this world have to be?”

“I know you want to help him, but I advise you not to stay and try. Your presence will only be detrimental to him,” Ruan Xiu said in an indifferent manner.

“Really?” Zhong Kui asked.

“Do you trust me?” Ruan Xiu countered.

Zhong Kui nodded in response.

Ruan Xiu finished her pastries, then dusted off her hands before departing.

Zhong Kui paused for a moment, then gently placed the piece of charcoal back on the ground where he had picked it up from. After that, he rose up into the air and wrote down a phrase consisting of eight characters, then promptly set off to return to the Parasol Leaf Continent.

He was no longer the noble scholar that he once was, and he was now able to come and go anywhere that he pleased purely on his whims.

The phrase that he had left behind was: ‘”All is well, all is free.”