Confession and "Preaching"

Chapter 38: Confessions and "Preaching the Dao"

Dusk settled in, and the firewood in the hearth crackled, casting the stone house in a warm yellow glow. Chen An sat cross-legged beside the straw mat, while Little Black—the pitch-black giant hound—lay quietly at his side, its chin resting on its crossed front paws. The piercing wound on its neck had formed a dark brown scab, and the trachea beneath the new membrane of flesh rose and fell gently with each breath, no longer seeping blood.

Its gaze was calm as still water, reflecting the dancing flames like an ancient, bottomless spring.

"Little Black," Chen An said, stroking the warm fur behind its ear, his voice unusually clear in the silence, "You know what? When I first came to this Primordial World, I thought I wouldn't last three days."

He paused, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the soft, new-grown fur at the edge of Little Black's bandage.

Outside the window, the Safe Zone's barrier shimmered with a faint silver light in the night, muffling the roars of Demonic Beasts beyond the yard into a distant backdrop.

"Back then, I was afraid to even drink water, scared it would attract Demonic Beasts. I slept with my ears pricked, waking at the slightest sound." Chen An's voice carried a hoarse note of reminiscence. "I was like a startled bird, feeling that every inch of this world was a death trap. I just wanted to hole up in this little yard and survive one day at a time."

Little Black let out a faint, low rumble from its throat, its tail sweeping across the straw mat as if in response.

"Later, I tilled the garden and planted seeds." Chen An's tone gradually softened. "Watching those sprouts break through the soil, turning green day by day, growing taller—that's when I understood: no matter how dangerous a place is, as long as you're willing to work, you can always find a way to live."

He pointed to the Clay Jars stacked in the corner. "It's like firing pottery. The first batch all shattered. The second batch came out crooked. But by the third try, I had a bowl that could hold water."

His gaze fell on Little Black, carrying a simple sincerity. "You're the same. That day I found you in the thorn bushes, covered in blood, I thought... you wouldn't make it. But look—just a few days, and the wound has closed, new flesh has grown."

Little Black lifted its head, its brown-black pupils fixed on him. There was no animalistic confusion in its eyes, only a near-penetrating stillness.

"So," Chen An's voice dropped low, as if sharing a secret, "In this Primordial World, hiding alone won't cut it. You have to act, you have to try. Even if you fail a hundred times, as long as one succeeds, the path widens."

He paused, gently tapping Little Black's nose with his fingertip. "And don't always think about going it alone. Look at me—farming alone, firing pottery alone, hauling water alone, exhausting myself. If... if I could have a helper, someone like you," he smiled, "to guard the yard together, look out for each other, wouldn't life be a little easier?"

"Unity is strength," he concluded, his tone carrying a simple, almost slogan-like philosophy from the modern world. "One person can't go far, but a group can weather any storm. It's like... like those plants," he pointed out the window at the tender seedlings swaying in the night breeze. "A single stalk snaps with a tug. But if they grow into a patch, no wind can blow them down."

These words were plain, even carrying a bookish naivety. To Chen An, they were merely a summary of survival experience—truths he had chewed over in solitude to comfort himself.

But to the hound lying at his side—Demon Commander Ji Meng—they stirred a tidal wave in his heart!

The five words "Unity is strength" struck his ears like a thunderbolt from the nine heavens!

In the Demon Court, power was the only law. Eastern Emperor Tai Yi ruled the myriad demons through absolute strength and bloodline suppression.

Among the great demons, struggles for territory, resources, even the Emperor's favor, were nothing but open and covert conflicts. So-called "unity"? It was merely the strong driving the weak, a temporary alliance bound by mutual benefit, ready to collapse at any moment under greater power or greater gain.

Beneath the Demon Court's glory lay an undercurrent of ambition and selfish desire among countless great demons—never true "oneness."

Yet this seemingly powerless "mortal" had, with such a flat tone, laid bare the chronic ailment that had plagued the Demon Court for ten thousand years!

Even more shocking to Ji Meng were the words "act and try" and "the path widens."

Every living being in the Primordial World cultivated by following ancient methods, step by step. Techniques, heavenly treasures, blessed caves—all were seen as insurmountable ladders. But Chen An?

He fired pottery from the most ordinary clay, healed wounds with the most common herbs, and even grew vegetables in this little yard with its sparse spiritual energy (in Ji Meng's view)! He cared nothing for "ancient methods," relied on no "heritage," and with nothing but his hands and repeated attempts, had truly carved out a patch of life in this dead end!

How was this the way of a mortal? This was the supreme wisdom of breaking shackles and forging a new path!

Ji Meng's thoughts raced like lightning:

Spiritual perception: He secretly circulated his remaining demonic power to sense the yard. What he sensed shook him to the core! The spiritual energy within the Safe Zone was pure, condensed, and docile—utterly unlike the wild, chaotic energy of the outside Primordial World. Its purity far surpassed even the core forbidden grounds of the Demon Court he remembered—the Sun Star Palace! This was no natural formation; it had been refined and purified by some supreme rule!

Words and deeds confirmed: Chen An's simple words about "acting and trying" and "failure being the mother of success" now sounded to Ji Meng like pearls of wisdom, secretly aligning with the principles of the Great Dao! Wasn't it precisely this unconstrained, practical spirit that had created such a pure spiritual environment in this dead end?

Identity speculation: How could a mortal control such pure spiritual energy? How could he casually expose the root of strife among the Primordial World's factions? How could he possess such wisdom to turn decay into magic? The only explanation—this person before him was surely a supreme being playing among mortals, Returning to Simplicity! His seemingly ordinary actions were all demonstrations of the Great Tao is Simplest through the guise of a "mortal"!

Realizing this, Ji Meng felt a chill shoot from his tailbone to the crown of his head, followed by an indescribable awe and ecstasy. He had been fortunate enough to be saved by such a being, fed soup by his hand, bandaged, and even named! This was no mere "Little Black"—this was a divine opportunity and title bestowed by a supreme existence!

He carefully suppressed the last trace of a Demon Commander's pride and vigilance, lowering his head even more humbly onto Chen An's knee. A submissive whimper escaped his throat, and the tip of his tail brushed Chen An's hand in a fawning gesture. His posture was as devout as a pilgrim's.

Chen An only thought it understood his comfort, feeling warmth in his heart. He rambled on with more homely advice like "stay low to keep safe" and "contentment brings happiness." What Chen An saw as survival wisdom, Ji Meng heard as profound truths containing the principles of heaven and earth.

"The sage is enlightening me..." Ji Meng sighed inwardly, engraving every word Chen An spoke deep into his soul.

The firelight flickered on the stone walls, stretching the silhouettes of the man and the hound as they leaned together. Chen An poured out the hardships and hopes of survival, utterly unaware that the docile "Little Black" at his knee had already enshrined him as a god. In the cold night of the Primordial World, a "preaching of the Dao" that crossed all understanding was quietly altering the fate of a Demon Commander.

(End of Chapter 38)