"Why abandon this Dao Body? We need to understand what I am."
Jing Jiu's gaze fell on the stream between the distant peaks. Under the noon sunlight, it truly looked just like a golden whip.
"The selves of my past and present lives are not the upstream and downstream reaches of a river. Chan Buddhism has a very interesting metaphor for describing this chain of cause and effect."
He withdrew his gaze and raised his right index finger.
With a snap, a wisp of Sword Flame burned at his fingertip.
"Like this flame. If I use it to light a stick, then use the fire on that stick to light another stick, and keep burning onward like that, is the flame on the final stick the same flame as the one on my fingertip now, or a different one?" (Note: this passage was copied from He Caitou's public account.)
Not a crow or sparrow stirred between the peaks.
Big One lay in Zhao Layue's arms, watching the flame on Jing Jiu's fingertip with slightly narrowed eyes.
This Buddhist analogy was easy to understand, but it was not actually particularly suited to Jing Jiu's situation.
Sure enough, he then asked, "If these are connected yet different flames, then what color am I now?"
Different things burned with flames of different colors and brightness. The flames of wood, coal, swords, and paper were naturally different.
Jing Jiu did not like this, or rather, he did not like this kind of continuation of himself.
He told Ping Yongjia, "That is why you must take off your clothes, abandon your Dao Body, and throw away the stick."
Ping Yongjia understood.
This was why he had left the Oneness of All Things.
This was why Qing'er had flown out of the Azure Sky Mirror.
This