Opening the Eyes

The next morning, at dawn.

The sky had only just begun to lighten when Zhou Sheng opened his eyes. Seeing that Master was still asleep, he slipped quietly out of the temple and found a secluded spot in the mountains to warm up his voice.

Train through the coldest days of winter; train through the hottest days of summer.

His fundamentals were so solid because of relentless practice day after day. It had already become a habit carved into his bones.

If he went a day without warming up his voice, he felt stifled, as though a wad of phlegm were lodged in his throat.

After warming up his voice, he faced the rising sun and practiced the Lan Caihe Guiding Technique twice more. Only when his sinews and bones had loosened, his blood and qi flowed freely, and his entire body felt pleasantly warm did he satisfactorily conclude his practice.

He gathered some wild fruit to bring back for Master and was delighted to discover that, after a night's rest, Master could already walk without hindrance and no longer limped.

"By my count, today should be the seventh day."

Yu Zhensheng counted on his fingers, then asked, "Have your eyes felt anything unusual lately?"

Zhou Sheng nodded. "Every day at midnight and noon, my eyes become unusually sore and dry, and they swell slightly. If I look in a mirror, I can see many bloodshot streaks."

"Master, is it because singing Mount Dingjun has put too much strain on my eyes?"

Yu Zhensheng shook his head with a smile. "Of course not. On the contrary, it means your eye technique has improved further and has reached the brink of opening the Aperture of the Eye."

Opening the Aperture of the Eye...

Zhou Sheng's heart stirred. Master had once said that the Aperture of the Eye was the first gate of Passing the Six Gates. Once this gate was passed, it was equivalent to opening the Dharma Eye, allowing one to see yin and yang, discern transformations, and even clearly see the trajectory of descending lightning.

Most importantly, if he wished to sing Guan Gong operas, he first had to open the Aperture of the Eye.

"Today, you may take the medicine and open the aperture. But before that, I must explain it to you in greater detail."

The moment he entered "teaching mode," Yu Zhensheng's expression became extremely solemn. He stood with meticulous precision, his gaze sharp.

"Eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—these are called Passing the Six Gates. Buddhism calls them the Six Roots, as the saying goes: 'With the Six Roots impure, Bodhi is hard to attain.' Daoism calls them the Six Thieves: 'To hear the Great Dao, first remove the Six Thieves'..."

"All paths of cultivation may differ, yet they lead to the same destination. We who sing Yin Opera are no exception. We must likewise pass these Six Gates."

"The eye sees Joy of Seeing, the ear hears Ear Hearing Anger, the nose smells love, the tongue tastes longing, the mind perceives desire, and the body is rooted in sorrow. Each thief you subdue grants you its divine ability, greatly increasing the power of our Yin Opera."

"For instance, this first gate, the Aperture of the Eye. Once opened, it will greatly enhance your eye technique. When you sing opera, every glance will seem divine and your gaze will flash like lightning. You may even intimidate evil entities with your eyes alone, and your portrayals will become more vivid and lifelike."

Seeing the anticipation and excitement in his disciple's eyes, Yu Zhensheng abruptly changed his tone and gave a cold laugh.

"But since you are passing a gate, you must slay its generals. Without Second Lord Guan's spirit of passing five gates and slaying six generals, not only will you fail to open the Dharma Eye—you may very well become blind!"

Zhou Sheng's heart tightened at those words.

"To steal Heaven, first gouge out the light of the eye aperture; candle-blood congeals into ointment, sealing shut the blind windows."

Yu Zhensheng first recited a line of poetry, then sighed. "Most blind fortune-tellers with a bit of skill who roam the martial world fell at this very gate."

After a pause, he looked at his disciple and said gravely, "No one can help you through this gate. The only person you can rely on is yourself. As your master, I can only give you four words."

"What four words?"

"Immovable as a mountain."

Zhou Sheng silently committed those four words to memory. Then, without the slightest hesitation, he took out the Mica Powder he had prepared long ago and swallowed it with dew.

A cultivator should advance with fearless vigor, charging forward without turning back!

Before his rampage through Qinggu County, faced with the possibility of going blind after breaking through this gate, Zhou Sheng would likely have hesitated, anxious and uneasy.

Yet after being tempered by those three Yin Operas, Huang Zhong's boldness, Zhong Kui's ferocity, and Wu Song's blooded spirit had all subtly influenced him.

His foundations were sufficient, he had spiritual medicine to assist him, and Master stood guard over him. If he still shrank back now, then what the hell was he cultivating for? He might as well go home early and sell sweet potatoes.

Even if he truly became blind, he would still look upon the scenery ahead before darkness took him!

A few breaths later, the medicinal power began to take effect.

It was as though a blazing furnace had ignited within his Dantian. Streams of heat surged through his limbs and bones, nourishing his blood and qi, strengthening his sinews and skeleton.

Drawing on his previous experience, he calmly assumed the stance of the Guiding Technique.

Embracing primal chaos as though lifting a basket, their fingers spun as they parted clouds and gathered rosy clouds.

The left foot rooted itself in earth, the right drew spring water; shaking the sea and overturning heaven, he opened the Ren and Du gates.

His movements were incredibly slow, as though he were pushing a thousand-pound stone mill, yet they did not seem laborious or cumbersome in the least. Instead, they were exceptionally light and flowing.

Only after performing the Guiding Technique six times in succession did he refine that blazing medicinal power into threads of pure Magic Power. Sweet rain seemed to fall within his Dantian; he could even hear faint dripping, like ten-thousand-year stalactites.

As his Dao cultivation advanced once more, he suddenly felt a stream of heat rush uncontrollably toward his eyes. His eyes burned sharply, and he was instantly blinded.

Remembering Master's words—immovable as a mountain—he gathered his mind and remained calm, without a ripple.

Soon, the darkness around him gradually receded, and he saw light again.

But before he could rejoice, his pupils suddenly trembled, and he found it impossible to remain composed.

He saw mountains of gold, dazzling and brilliant. He saw peerless beauties as well—some dancing barefoot, others kneeling to offer tea.

Their voices were warm and soft, stirring the heartstrings.

He also saw countless people prostrate themselves at his feet, bowing their heads in submission and crying out, "Long live!"

All the lands beneath heaven were the territory of one household; all the countless commoners were subjects of one surname.

Money, beauties, power...

Every beautiful thing in the mortal world seemed to have been laid before him, ready for him to squander and enjoy as he pleased.

Joy of Seeing.

Zhou Sheng's will was resolute, and these external things did not move him.

Then he saw spirit pills and wondrous medicines, magical treasures and profound techniques, all delivered before his eyes. It seemed that if he merely reached out and took them, his Magic Power would immediately soar and he would attain immortality and the Dao.

Of course, he knew they were all false, illusions. Yet so long as his eyes remained open, he could not help being affected.

A voice seemed to whisper by his ear, bewitching his mind. His memories of reality grew blurred, while the things before him constantly swelled larger.

He sensed something was wrong. If this continued, could he truly avoid losing himself?

At that moment, he seemed to begin doubting himself.

Why not... just close my eyes... Perhaps that would keep me from being bewitched.

A voice seemed to rise from the depths of his heart.

Zhou Sheng felt that it made sense, so he prepared to close his eyes. As his eyelids slowly lowered, the light gradually faded, and darkness came rushing in once again...

No!!!

Zhou Sheng violently forced open his nearly shut eyes. A sharp pain stabbed through them, and warm blood ran from the corners of his eyes.

His heart hammered wildly, and a chill of lingering fear rose within him.

This illusion was not trying to tempt his heart—it was trying to lure him into closing his eyes!

If he had truly closed them just now, then as Master had said, he would have lost his sight forever and become completely blind!

He struggled to keep his eyes open. His bloodshot pupils bulged, crimson veins spreading like spiderwebs.

At that moment, he seemed to hear an exasperated voice beside his ear.

"If you won't close your eyes, I'll ruin those peepers of yours!"

In the next instant, the money, beauties, magical treasures, and spirit pills all vanished. Only two nine-inch silver needles remained before him, viciously stabbing toward his eyes.

The icy sensation of those sharp needle tips touching his eye membranes bore not the slightest trace of illusion.

Zhou Sheng instinctively wanted to close his eyes, yet he forcibly held back through sheer willpower.

Even if the needles blinded him, he would never close his eyes!

If he could not pass this gate, death was preferable!

The next moment, the needle tips plunged fiercely into his eyes. Yet there was no pain at all. On the contrary, a cool breath flowed continuously into his eyes like a siphon, causing some mysterious transformation in his pupils.

At the same time, that voice sounded beside his ear again.

"Take good care of these eyes of mine. They will lead you to see..."

"The real world."