Ye Lin still sat upon the blue-stone meditation cushion, surrounded by the familiar stone chamber, silent and still.
Yet his heart could not calm for a long while.
Had everything just now truly been a memory? Or, in that moment, had he entered the Void once more and seen that figure again?
He did not know.
He only knew that those words—go—were still echoing in his ears.
Ye Lin drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and entered meditation once more.
This time, he began to comprehend in earnest.
Bit by bit, he broke down and absorbed everything he had seen over those three days.
What was the essence of the Void?
It was the state before Chaos had been opened, the manifestation of nothingness.
The Dao gave birth to being from nothingness, and from being came all things.
Then should his own Dao also begin from nothingness?
What was the meaning behind that finger?
That finger was the Dao's direct manifestation, the birth of One.
Then should his divine abilities and spells also seek that realm of One?
Cast aside all intricate transformations and point directly to the origin?
And what did the process of Heaven-Opening and Earth-Cleaving signify?
It was the evolution of the Dao, the process from One to all things.
Then should his cultivation likewise follow that evolution?
From simplicity to complexity, then from complexity back to simplicity?
And what enlightenment could that figure's life offer him?
He comprehended the Dao through countless epochs; sainthood came in a single instant. He passed on teachings and imparted knowledge, enlightened all living beings, and in the end fell, departing with serene indifference.
Within it were perseverance, letting go, gain, and loss.
Then how should he temper his Dao heart?
Countless questions circled through his mind.
None of them