Chapter 32
The world in the mirror.
In the chaotic darkness, an ancient bronze mirror floats quietly.
As soon as the ethereal voice fell, a chill suddenly ran down Yan Bujian's spine. He almost instinctively closed his eyes, buried his face deeply, and refused to look forward.
"...What do you feel when you see the scene in the karma mirror?" But the voice sounded again at this time.
Before he could finish his words, he felt an invisible force suddenly strangle his neck, and then his head was forcibly lifted up, and his eyelids were forcibly opened, forcing him to look directly into the mirror.
He was filled with shock and anger, and the golden sword energy around him surged, but when it was shot out, it was instantly swallowed up by the surrounding chaos like a drop in the ocean, failing to stir up even the slightest ripple - the gap between him and this unknown existence was as vast as heaven and earth, and at this moment he didn't even have the qualifications to struggle!
The moment he looked at the mirror, the gray fog in the mirror suddenly spun faster, and then countless images flashed through it like light shadows... After a while, the mirror became silent again, and the gray fog gradually condensed into a clear picture.
——The first scene is a dilapidated village on the border of Yunzhou.
Among the ruins, a widowed mother in a coarse cloth dress held her young son tightly under her body. Behind her, a green-faced and fanged evil ghost opened its bloody mouth, and saliva dripped onto the ground, corroding small pits.
The widowed mother held a chipped kitchen knife tightly in her hand. Her frail body trembled uncontrollably, but her eyes were as firm as iron as she roared at the evil spirit, "Don't touch my son!"
With a flash of cold light, the demon's sharp claws swung, snapping the kitchen knife in two. The next moment, blood splattered as the widow's chest was ripped open, and warm blood splashed all over the child's face. The child's terrified cry barely broke out before it was completely drowned out by the demon's greedy chewing.
The surroundings became quiet again, and thick gray fog swept in, engulfing the tragic scene.
In front of the mirror, Yan Bujian looked at it expressionlessly, his dark eyes as still as dead water, without sadness or pity, anger or fear, as if what was reflected just now was not the greatest pain in the world, but insignificant dead stones and rotten wood.
Then the gray fog rose again.
——The second scene is a simple thatched cottage in the mountains of Pingzhou.
The lame man was protected by his wife behind him. His wife held the hoe tightly in both hands and faced the three evil monsters rushing towards her, roaring and swinging the hoe to resist.
The sharp claws of the evil monster scratched her arm and blood flowed down the hoe handle, but she did not retreat at all until an evil monster attacked her from the side and bit off her neck.
The man's eyes were bloodshot, and he dragged his limping leg desperately to crawl towards his wife, but the evil demon trampled his chest with a kick. The last glimmer in his eyes was completely extinguished with a teeth-grinding sound of bones cracking.
Before the image completely faded, Yan Bujian had already turned his gaze away indifferently, as if the wailing of the dying man was just the buzzing of a fly that disturbed the peace and was not worth stopping for a moment.
The gray fog surged again.
——The next scene is in the dense forest of Middle-earth.
A young man held up a hatchet, his hands trembling so much that he could barely hold the handle. However, he still stood in front of his sister. Facing the evil ghost that reeked of corpses, he cried out in a sobbing voice but refused to back down: "Don't come over! I, I'm not afraid of you!"
The evil ghost just sneered when he saw this, and a black gas shot out from his fingertips. The young man's hatchet instantly turned into ashes, but the black gas did not stop and penetrated his chest in an instant.
Amid his sister's shrill cries, the boy collapsed to the ground. His last look in this world was at the direction where his sister was being dragged away by the evil spirit.
Tragic scenes flashed through the mirror, blood and despair permeating the chaotic gray fog. But Yan Bujian's face remained emotionless, his dark eyes like a deep pool, without a single ripple.
Not until all the images completely dissipated and the mirror returned to chaos did the voice sound again: "What do you feel?"
Yan Bujian was silent for a moment, then spoke coldly, his voice steady and calm: "It has nothing to do with me."
As soon as these words were spoken, everything around fell silent.
After a moment, the voice spoke again, with a hint of indescribable admiration -
"Without worries and untainted by worldly sorrows and joys, one has already begun to establish the foundation of the path of indifference and goodness."
Yan Bujian's eyes trembled slightly when he heard this. But in the next moment, he heard the voice say, "...Ke Ruo, what about next?"
As his voice fell, the gray mist in the mirror churned again at a speed several times faster than before! This time, the scene that emerged was—
It was his own past.
The scene depicts a dilapidated and desolate corner of an ancient temple in the Black Wind Region. A young boy huddles in a corner, tightly clutching half a dirty steamed bun. He hears the bitter insults of his adopted distant relative: "You unlucky star! It's not enough that you killed our parents, you're trying to kill us too! — We shouldn't have taken in this evil creature, you!"
After a distant relative died, he was only seven years old and begging on the street. The shopkeeper kicked over his broken bowl and cursed him: "Where did you come from, stray dog? How dare you beg for food in front of my door? Get out of here! Don't bring bad luck to me!"
He struggled to grow up, finally realizing the Dao on his own. But while cultivating in the mountains, he was abducted by a demonic cultivator and thrown into a dark dungeon. Then, his arm was forcibly pressed against a stone potion testing table, and he watched as a strange liquid seeped into his flesh, inflicting excruciating pain. For countless days and nights, he was bound to the rack by icy chains, whipped and devoured by insects. He could only lick his wounds silently in the endless darkness, gnawing every ounce of hatred and vows of revenge between his teeth.
Yan Bujian stared at the mirror intently, the painful memories of the past flooding back like a tide, making the air around him even colder.
His body was trembling slightly, and his knuckles turned white from the force. Although he didn't say a word at this moment, the deep hatred that was surging in his already red eyes and was almost materializing revealed his extremely suppressed state of mind at the moment - he had never forgotten those humiliations and tortures, and he would never forget them!
"The stubborn self-perception in one's heart, the obsession with gain and loss, love and hate, honor and disgrace, is... 'ego.'" The voice sounded faintly, sometimes close to his ear, sometimes around his head, like a ghostly whisper, "This mirror can reveal the deepest and most stubborn obsessions in the human heart. Whether it's hatred for your enemies, resistance to fate, or a desire for power, all can be manifested in the mirror—"
"You possess a naturally formed sword bone, inherently fierce. Due to a difficult fate, you've been isolated and helpless since childhood, experiencing the vicissitudes of life. As a result, throughout your journey, only cold hatred remains in your heart. This word, 'hatred,' is now your greatest obsession."
At this point, the voice paused, then sighed, "But you know, all things arise from causes and conditions, and lack self-nature. So-called 'hatred' and 'fate' are like mirages, inherently empty. If you cling to hatred, you will be consumed by it, becoming a puppet of revenge; if you cling to fate, you will be bound by it, forever trapped in the pain of the past. Only by letting go of 'self-attachment' and seeing the emptiness of all things can you break free from the shackles and see the true path."
——After these words were spoken, the gray mist lingering in the mirror in front of Yan Bujian suddenly dissipated, and in its place, there was a flower tree growing on the cliff.
The tree was covered with pale pink flowers. When the wind blew, the petals fell like drizzle, drawing graceful arcs in the air, and finally fell into the sea of clouds under the cliff, disappearing without a trace.
"——Looking at this flower tree at this moment, what are your feelings?"
The bloodshot in Yan Bujian's eyes hadn't faded with the image's fading. Instead, it had intensified, a crimson tinge, as if two clusters of icy blood flames were silently burning deep within his pupils. He spoke slowly, his voice piercing with coldness, "This flower blooms and withers on its own in the deep mountains. Its life and death are left to nature. What does it have to do with me?"
As soon as he finished speaking, he heard a "whoosh" sound, and a strong mountain wind blew through the mirror, blowing away all the flowers and trees, and returning to chaos.
After a brief silence, the voice spoke again, this time with a hint of enlightenment: "Before you looked at this flower, it and your heart were both silent. When you looked at this flower, its color became bright because of you. From this you should know: this flower is not just a wild flower, it has long been rooted in your heart, reflecting your creation..."
"Everything you see is revealed by your mind; you and this world share the same roots and are inseparable!"
Yan Bujian was startled when he heard this, and his pupils shrank slightly - he had never thought that he had such a subtle and profound connection with the world.
"My Immortal Venerable Mingri, you've achieved a state of being free from external distractions, yet you fail to understand that human existence is inherently a part of this world," the voice continued. "Guiding the return of the immortal realm and protecting the Three Thousand Continents isn't about punishing evil, promoting good, slaying demons, or safeguarding the survival of mere individuals—it's about restoring order to the balance of this world and ensuring the smooth operation of the laws of heaven and earth. Only in this way can you truly transcend the constraints of fate and pursue the supreme path within an orderly universe!"
"All phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows; like dew and lightning, they should be viewed in this way." Having reached this point, the voice suddenly became majestic. "As I observed in the mirror just now, I see that the sword in your heart is too fierce. Your obsession has blocked your ruthless path... Today, I will help you slay this inner demon. From now on, your path will be smooth and you will reach the sky in one step!"
After he finished speaking, Yan Bujian felt that a strange will suddenly invaded his sea of consciousness like lightning!
He was horrified and tried his best to mobilize his soul to resist, but he was horrified to find that he could not resist this force at all!
Under the impact of that will, the memories in his sea of consciousness began to rapidly dissipate - insults, beatings, hunger, cold, humiliation... countless fragments of pain, along with the hatred and obsession that kept him alive, were all easily wiped out and washed away like a sand castle meeting the tide.
As his memory faded, he could clearly feel that a part of himself was constantly "dying" and gradually becoming numb and empty.
But at the moment when his consciousness was about to be completely assimilated, a scene was like a brand, firmly fixed in the depths of his sea of consciousness. No matter how the strange will washed away, it could not be erased.
That was in the treasure maze of the Tengyan Ancestor. The girl held the stone marrow milk in her hand, a sly smile on her face, but her eyes were filled with sincere joy. She handed him the medicine bottle and said, "Drink it quickly, this can stop bleeding and regenerate flesh!"
That smile was bright and lively, like the only ray of light shining into the boundless darkness, causing a slight ripple in his frozen and silent heart that he himself had not even noticed...
He had never experienced such pure warmth in his life.
The thrill of that moment was like the first melting of spring snow, but who could have predicted that buried beneath the snow was the sharpest blade in the world—
He always clearly remembered what the red-robed nun said later - it turned out that the warmth was just a disguise she had carefully woven, just to make him relax his guard so that she could torture him better!
Why? Why did you offer him a ray of light when he was at his most miserable? Why did you let him mistakenly believe that he deserved care, only to tell him in the cruelest way—
All of this is just another more sophisticated form of Lingchi!
That deception was more piercing than the coldest night in the Black Wind Territory, more torturous than the most poisonous insect bites in the dungeon. It didn't damage the flesh, but only ate away at the soul and bones, completely hollowing out his already broken spirit.
He was thrown into the clouds of hope, and then slammed back into the abyss of despair, shattered to pieces.
"—Why did you give me a glimmer of light, and then extinguish it with your own hands?!"
A silent roar vibrated in his chest, threatening to tear his internal organs apart. Hatred grew like poison ivy, entwining his shattered heart and piercing every wound that had yet to scab over.
The hope that had been ignited and then extinguished in despair became the last straw that broke the camel's back. It was more painful than any beating, more deadly than any poison. It now carried a madness that destroyed everything, wanting to freeze and crush him, along with the hateful memory itself.
“No…” Yan Bujian’s eyes were bleeding with tears of blood, and he roared at the top of his lungs, “I must not forget… I must not forget!!”
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