Chapter 84: The Heart of Great Benevolence
The stone buildings of Central City had stood for ages. Their hard white stone had been weathered by natural wind and frost, and worn by magical attacks. The original palace halls, corridors, and gardens now existed only as broken walls and crumbled remains, and the intricate patterns carved into them had long since faded.
A well-educated disciple explained to those around him, who looked on with curiosity: “Legend says the secret realm was originally a fragment of space, the dwelling of an ancient great being. After that being ascended, the fragment drifted in the outer realm. The Sword Sovereign exercised the power of the Saints to refine this space and take it for his own, then placed it in the Hanhai, which became the stage for the Hanhai Grand Competition.”
Ji Xiao: “That’s correct.”
The disciple, encouraged by the approval, spoke with greater enthusiasm: “It’s said that the underground palace remains intact, preserving the style of the ancient world. But its entrance is protected by hidden formations—apparently, no one has found it yet!”
Another said, “Even if we found it, we wouldn’t dare enter. Deep inside, there’s a mirage beast guarding it. I’ve never seen one in person, but I can imagine—its presence must be formidable, its body as huge as a mountain. Why throw ourselves away for nothing? Being swallowed by a demon beast wouldn’t accomplish anything.”
The other disciples nodded in agreement. Ji Xiao remained silent.
Meng Xueli also said nothing. He knew that in the demon realm, mirage beasts roamed freely, and their greatest fear was taking damage. Most humans misunderstood demons, assuming that great demons, because of their long lives, must be fierce and mighty. In truth, each being had its own nature; among great demons, there were also useless ones.
Unnoticed, the sun shifted westward, and brilliant evening clouds spread across half the sky. Distant mountains, nearby waters, and ruined halls glowed in a layer of orange-golden light.
The young cultivators walked together, laughing and chatting loudly, like a spring outing.
Someone asked, “Elder Meng, you said there’s a teleportation array somewhere in Central City?”
Meng Xueli replied, “Yes.” The teleportation array he intended to use was located in the gardens among the palace complex.
He had been in the secret realm before—not exactly visited, more like passed through.
Three years ago, Ji Xiao had rescued a severely wounded spirit ferret from the “Outer Realm” and was on his way to the mortal realm, passing through this place.
When Ji Xiao opened the secret realm, besides the four well-known teleportation arrays, he had left a convenient “back door” for himself, just in case. One connected to the Outer Realm, allowing two-way travel; back then, Ji Xiao had carried the spirit ferret through it. Another led to a normal Hanhai exit, like the other arrays in the secret realm, allowing one-way travel; it was more hidden, and the spirit ferret had also seen it.
At that time, the spirit ferret had crawled out from Ji Xiao’s cloak and turned its head to look around. “Where is this? Are we in the mortal realm now?”
“Mm,”
The spirit ferret had been curious about the teleportation array, but soon, weak from exertion, it had burrowed back into the warm cloak and slept heavily.
After Changchun Peak was built, Ji Xiao had opened another “back door” in the secret realm, connecting the underground palace to the pond areas of Changchun Peak.
When Meng Xueli saw a field of blooming flowers, he knew the garden was nearby. Delicate plants left untended had naturally vanished, leaving only the hardy wildflowers and grasses. Many flower seeds had scattered with the wind, spreading for miles around the garden. Most of the flowers in the secret realm bloomed year after year without anyone to admire them.
The far-off sunset was magnificent. Around them, every color bloomed in profusion. The young cultivators, recalling today’s battles, breakthroughs, and fierce struggles, felt their hearts surge with excitement.
Meng Xueli smiled. “Ji Xiao chose to hold the Grand Competition in these ancient ruins to remind us that someone in this world has ascended. Ascension is not a dream. Every person who comes here will think of it—among a hundred, there will always be one who wants to see a broader world.”
Xu Sanshan patted the white tiger on the head: “Ascension? Honestly, that’s too far off!”
Liu Jing rotated the formation disk, testing for nearby array fluctuations. “Originally, Ji Xiao Zhenren was closest to ascension. It’s a pity he has passed on. In our lifetime, will we even get to witness someone ascend?”
Everyone shared their opinions. Most discussed matters like “the Master of the Tianhu Realm” or “Saint Gui Qing of Mingyue Lake,” seldom speaking of themselves.
Xiao Tingyun said seriously, “Ascension begins as a thought. A cultivator’s path is long, measured in centuries. Fate tests us with ups and downs; that is normal. With a single thought of ascension, one’s gaze extends far, and one does not cling to the outcome of a single battle or temporary gains and losses. I have heard it said, ‘When one flower blooms, a thousand or ten thousand more will bloom.’ Even if Ji Xiao is gone, there will be those who come after.”
Meng Xueli had never liked hearing words like “Ji Xiao’s era is over,” as if they diminished or erased Ji Xiao’s contributions. Yet, hearing Xiao Tingyun say it now, he did not feel annoyance; instead, he smiled.
Some nodded, as if struck with understanding, while others smiled knowingly.
Jing Di teased, “Daoist Xiao is still so young, yet speaks with such old-fashioned solemnity. Sounds even older than my master.”
He had mentioned his master with a familiar tone, but for some reason, the thought made him suppress his smile and fall silent.
At that moment, Meng Xueli suddenly heard Cui Jing say, “Ji Xiao can’t ascend anymore either.”
His tone was usually cold, yet serious. Meng Xueli walked over to him. “Why?”
Cui Jing glanced at him, his eyes complicated, finally speaking some of what he truly felt:
“Ji Xiao was once close to divinity. Only when near divinity could one ascend. You pulled him back to the mortal realm. Ji Xiao now has a Dao companion; he has lost the heart of great benevolence, indulging in small affections. Is he still Ji Xiao?”
Meng Xueli furrowed his brow slightly. “Ji Xiao having a Dao companion makes him more ‘human.’ If he loves his Dao companion, he will care more deeply for all things in the world, gaining new insights in cultivation. Loving those nearby first, then extending care to others—isn’t that possible?”
Cui Jing disagreed. “With closeness comes private desires. Great benevolence and small love are two kinds of emotion; they are not naturally compatible.”
Meng Xueli felt a little annoyed. “Forget it. We won’t reach a conclusion here.”
He thought, even though he bore the title of Ji Xiao’s Dao companion, he was not really close to him. Two people who were not familiar with Ji Xiao discussing him—what result could that yield? Might as well have asked Hu Si.
What had just been discussed was hypothetical. Did the real Ji Xiao have feelings for him? Too many daydreams could dull the mind.
Meng Xueli sighed softly. The evening glow illuminated the melancholy in his eyes.
“One night, three years ago, I saw Ji Xiao standing by the pond, gazing at his reflection. Even the koi in the water seemed afraid of him. I felt he was lonely, and I wanted to accompany him. But later…”
Jing Di could not help but ask, “What happened?”
Meng Xueli replied, “Later I realized he was not as pitiable as I imagined. But he was wealthier than I had imagined.”
The first time he saw Ji Xiao’s private treasury account book, he almost could not recover from the shock.
Jing Di burst into loud laughter. “Hahaha! You talked so much, and I only understood this one sentence!”
Meng Xueli said helplessly, “Why are you laughing? What I mean is, how we see Ji Xiao, and how future historians will see him, is far too narrow. Summer insects cannot comprehend ice; well frogs cannot comprehend the sea. Without reaching his level, one cannot imagine his intentions… Ji Xiao is, in truth, both cold and compassionate. Many try to emulate him, but only learn his coldness, never his compassion.”
Ji Xiao remained silent for a long moment, finally shaking his head. “Ji Xiao is human. He has emotions and desires; he is not a cold, lifeless idol on an altar.”
He noticed a problem—his Dao companion had placed him too high, and himself too low.
Meng Xueli had once been a great demon; he should not have felt this way. Something must have happened that shook his confidence. Perhaps the root cause lay still in the demon realm.
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
