In the Name of Divine Abilities, Part 27

The mental world.

Lu Zhao's consciousness entered the mental world, where viscous murmurs filled the space around him.

He did not go to Primordial Unity every night. Crossing the mental quagmire was painful; every step was no less than climbing a mountain of blades or descending into a sea of fire.

Lu Zhao usually entered once every few days. The last time he had come, the old Daoist had taught him a Spirit Refining cultivation method.

Tap!

A faint tapping sound rang out, like a gentle strike against a jade chime.

Once again, Lu Zhao reached the far shore of the mental world-Primordial Unity.

Beneath his feet was no longer an empty void of chaos, but white stone tiles, warm and smooth as jade and polished like mirrors.

He looked up to see a small, ancient Daoist temple standing amid the boundless emptiness and void of Primordial Unity.

It had no towering halls or elaborately carved and painted beams, only a stillness that came from returning to simplicity.

"Come on up."

The old Daoist's voice rang out.

Without hesitation, Lu Zhao walked toward the temple.

At the top of nine steps, the temple's main doors stood open.

Inside, the old Daoist sat cross-legged, his back like an ancient tree a thousand years old, bearing the steadfast composure of one who had weathered life's vicissitudes.

Beyond the old Daoist, two ancient seal-script characters were engraved on the wall directly opposite the entrance.

Heaven and earth.

Lu Zhao stared at them involuntarily. His view began to magnify, growing larger and larger, as though he had been cast into a boundless universe. His consciousness lost all sense of space.

"Layman."

The old Daoist's calm voice carried an irresistible power, instantly pulling Lu Zhao's consciousness back.

"What do you think of my little temple?"

Still slightly dazed, Lu Zhao sat down on the cushion to the old Daoist's right at his indication. "Daoist Master, why can such a stable scene form here?"

Among the Imperial Capital's mental studies courses was one that taught people to construct mental palaces, and it was one of Lu Zhao's main subjects.

Most people's mental palaces existed in reality. Lu Zhao's was his empty room. At its core, it was a kind of ritual: anything could be used to anchor the mind.

According to his mental palace instructor, a mental-type transcendent at the Martial Marquis level could construct a palace in the mental world and use it to intervene in reality.

In ancient times, this was called a Yang Spirit.

The old Daoist's consciousness was at least at the Martial Marquis level, and most likely stronger.

"The spirit gathers in things; intent transforms into heaven and earth."

The old Daoist pinched a strand of light between his fingers, and a small round table appeared before Lu Zhao, with hot tea steaming on top.

"Using the Fate Bones you brought in, I transformed intent into a few objects, so you wouldn't be too bored when you came here."

Lu Zhao picked up a teacup, astonished. "Daoist Master, your skill is truly miraculous."

That Fate Bones could take "physical" form in the mental world was another technique beyond his understanding.

"A crude trick, nothing more. In time, you'll be able to do it with ease too, layman."

The old Daoist stroked his beard and smiled. "If you aren't afraid, you can try the tea."

Lu Zhao studied it for a moment, then carefully took a sip.

Hmm...

It tasted like perfectly ordinary tea.

But this was his first time consuming anything in the mental world, and it felt as real as it would in reality.

Previously, anything related to "eating" in the mental world had involved flavors appearing directly in his mind. And those memories were mixed with other sensations, producing things like "a cat barking at you with a sweet taste."

Chaos was the prevailing nature of the mental world. Only Primordial Unity was as stable as reality.

When Lu Zhao finished, the old Daoist produced another pot of tea from somewhere and poured him a cup. Lu Zhao could only drink it too. The old Daoist kept pouring, and he kept drinking...

This continued until he had drunk nine cups in a row.

A consciousness could not become bloated, and the tea could be poured endlessly, like the waters of an ocean.

The old Daoist stopped pouring. "Nine is the utmost limit. It would not be fitting to have more."

Lu Zhao closed his eyes and carefully savored it. The taste was undoubtedly that of ordinary tea.

But a consciousness was different from a physical body; the concept of organs did not apply to it.

Lu Zhao existed as a "person" because he had already established a self in the mental world, academically known as the Outer Form.

This was a characteristic of a first-stage mental-type transcendent.

Being able to simulate organs like those of a physical body and possess one's own senses in the mental world was a characteristic of a second-stage mental-type transcendent.

Now, through the tea, he had actually experienced the second-stage state ahead of time.

The tea stimulated his taste buds, and the liquid flowed down his esophagus before finally entering his stomach.

This was not a jumble of memories, but a real sensation from his "body."

Precisely because of the mental world's chaos, what was real was all the more precious. It was also what powerful mental-type transcendents pursued throughout their lives.

Lu Zhao opened his eyes, a flash of inspiration appearing in them.

He slowly let out a stale breath. This, too, was something he had gained just now: his spirit could breathe out.

Those nine cups of tea were like a key, briefly opening the door to a higher realm and giving him a glimpse of the world of the Inner Form.

Looking at the old Daoist again, Lu Zhao said solemnly, "Thank you for teaching me and passing on the Dao, Daoist Master."

The old Daoist stroked his beard and smiled. "A master can lead you through the door, but your skill depends on you. Besides, I didn't offer you any verbal guidance. You're exceptionally gifted yourself, layman, no less so than I was in my youth."

His words held a trace of appreciation. He rarely showed his emotions or preferences, which was enough to show how pleased he was with Lu Zhao.

Even in his youth, he had not been much better than Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao shook his head. "Without you, Daoist Master, I'm afraid I would never have been able to come into contact with the Inner Form ahead of time in my entire life. Even if I eventually broke through to the second stage, I would only have swallowed it whole without understanding."

Such an experience was unheard of in the outside world.

If there were mental powerhouses capable of letting someone experience the Inner Form ahead of time, they would certainly be at the Martial Marquis level, and it would be difficult for Lu Zhao to come into contact with them.

Talent and hard work were certainly important, but in the face of an enormous gap in resources, they often came after one's background.

During his student days, he had seen too many people whose talent and effort were comparable to his, or even a little inferior. Simply because they had strong backgrounds, they could easily receive private tutoring from renowned teachers who offered it of their own accord, as well as preferential treatment in subsidies and awards.

He, on the other hand, had to work a hundred times harder to obtain the same resources they did.

Once, he had gone two hundred hours without sleep, developing his life force while helping his instructors complete research projects and even filling in for them as a teacher.

He had wished he could split himself into three.

Others said he was unsociable, but in truth, Lu Zhao simply had no spare time to socialize.

Now he too had received a benefit others could not obtain.

"The inner and outer forms, the Inner Landscape and the spiritual platform-didn't those teachers of yours teach you about them, layman?"

The old Daoist seemed to have found an opening. Changing the subject, he said, "You once said that the new dynasty promised equality to the Hua People throughout the land."

"Actually, to all citizens," Lu Zhao corrected him. "But after the reforms ten years ago, only the Hua People retained the right to vote. Other ethnic groups don't have household registration."

"They're nothing but barbarian mongrels. Are they fit to be admitted into the hall?"

The old Daoist uttered words that were not quite so "sage-like" with complete ease.

The corners of Lu Zhao's mouth twitched, but then he thought that an ancestor really would see it that way.

The old Daoist stroked his beard, seemingly certain, and smiled:

"From what I have seen of this so-called equality in cultivation, it is nothing more than the moon in the water and flowers in a mirror. It is no different from our Great Ming."

Chapter 33: The Throne Is Open to Contest

It's clear the Daoist Master has quite a few objections to my dynasty.

Lu Zhao also understood that the old Daoist did want something from him. The most obvious point at present concerned their views; perhaps this was why the old Daoist had not taken him as a disciple.

He explained, "Our dynasty only has nine years of compulsory education. After that, you have to pass entrance exams on your own. Life Development only has six years. I passed the exam for the Imperial Capital myself, so the level of education may seem good to you, Daoist Master, but it isn't the average."

The old Daoist knew what compulsory education was. "Since you passed the exam, though, you have clearly been treated differently."

Lu Zhao nodded. "Of course it's the same. We're on the same platform, and that's enough."

The old Daoist shook his head. "As I see it, it isn't the same."

Lu Zhao countered, "Then could the Zhu Ming Dynasty do it? Were those who passed the same imperial examination appointed to office solely according to their rankings? Was someone who earned an examination degree guaranteed to enter government service as an official?"

The old Daoist was somewhat taken aback and could not answer for a moment.

Fairness was not a modern invention. It had existed as far back as the Xia and Shang periods, and any ruling machine necessarily pursued the "fairness of its era"; otherwise, it could not exist.

Every dynasty had its own idea of "fairness," but often failed to achieve it.

He fell silent for a moment before slowly speaking. "Our Great Ming Dynasty couldn't do it either, but neither can the new dynasty. Doesn't that show the two dynasties are the same?"

The old Daoist was using sophistry, and that was something Lu Zhao was not good at.

At the Imperial Capital, there had often been debates about the distinction between Hua and barbarians, and about equality between them.

Once, it had been a realm of countless nations at the height of its glory, stretching ninety thousand li in every direction, from the Eastern Ocean Sea beyond the pass to the distant Central Sea. Now, in humanity's last remaining refuge, all that remained were people of different statuses, ethnicities, and cultures undermining one another.

Only ten years had passed between then and now. To many people, it seemed like yesterday.

The current system was the optimal solution adopted under high-pressure conditions for survival. Humanity had lost the right to expand its territory, and three billion people could only scrape out a living on the land of one capital and thirteen circuits.

Until he stood high enough to determine their direction, he was a soldier.

The conflict between Lu Zhao and the old Daoist was a conflict between the governing philosophies of two eras.