Chapter Fifty-Two: The Weight of Understanding the Way, Naming the Boundless Heavens

Daoist Ren also recalled his youth, when his love for this world, for his secular family, and for this temple of the Great Lord of the Eastern Peak, was so deep. All of these were his roots—roots that even now, he had not forgotten. Thus, when at last he felt he had nowhere else to go, he remained here quietly, cultivating in solitude.

If he could truly reverse the decline of human virtue, rescue the world from chaos and demons, what harm was there in giving his entire life's cultivation for such a cause?

He turned to Shangguan Chuanyun and said, “Your words are reasonable, but as for how to proceed, I am entirely at a loss. To be honest, since I began my practice, I have tried many times, but the results were meager. In the end, disheartened, I settled here to pursue the Dao and refine my spirit.”

Ren’s Daoist name was Ren Shouquan. He had cultivated for over a century. In his youth, he was full of passion; whenever he witnessed injustice or demons harming the people, he would not hesitate to rid the world of them. He longed for a peaceful and stable world where all could live and work in contentment, where there would be less hypocrisy and more kindness.

He wished for humans, demons, ghosts, and gods all to have their own place of existence, coexisting in harmony.

Perhaps his ideals were too lofty. After countless years of effort and no change, his heart grew weary and he withdrew to the declining Temple of the Eastern Peak, cultivating in search of immortality.

But was that truly all? In truth, Ren knew this was a way to escape the mundane world. The practice of Dao emphasized the natural order, but cultivating the Dao was also to go against the natural order of heaven and earth. Thus, calamities always followed those who pursued the Dao, but there was also a mission and responsibility inherent in it: to maintain the balance of heaven and earth, to advance its evolution.

He’d thought his life would continue in this way, but unexpectedly, Shangguan the layman’s visit opened his eyes to a true companion in cultivation. Zhao San’s theft to make offerings to the Buddha, and finally the appearance of the Hawk-Tiger God.

The Hawk-Tiger God was a primordial deity, existing since ancient times, having seen countless ages pass. If not for a possible connection with Shangguan, he likely would not have spoken at all.

These primordial deities truly existed—if the world itself ceased, they would remain unaffected. It was like a person seeing an anthill flooded; would they truly intervene?

This time, the fact that the deity gave Shangguan a hint was already extraordinary. Ren pondered deeply about restoring order and sweeping away chaos and demons, but he found himself utterly without a plan, so he asked, “What should be done? Pray, layman, speak plainly. Wherever you need me, I will not hesitate. If there is any task, I shall not refuse.”

“Good! With your promise, Master, I am at ease,” Shangguan Chuanyun replied with a clap.

Still, the world was indeed a tangled mess, and there was no easy solution. For now, he would simply do what he could.

He planned to travel the world—surely he would encounter many challenges. He would face them one by one.

In learning, each day brings more; in the Dao, each day brings less. Less and less, until there is nothing left to do.

A fine steed may leap, but cannot cover ten paces in one bound; a mediocre horse, harnessed for ten days, succeeds through perseverance.

He thought of these words to encourage himself—as long as he persevered, doing a little each day, eventually momentum would build. So long as he did not give up, success would come in time.

Shangguan Chuanyun silently reassured himself, then turned to Ren and said, “For now, there is no perfect solution, but there is one thing that must be done.”

“What is it? So long as you ask, I will do all in my power,” Ren replied.

Shangguan thought back: since encountering the refugees, then Li Hualong—who pledged himself to him and led several thousand followers. With his support, they could soon become a formidable force.

He had intended to catch up with his father’s army, but in the east there were the Wild Dog bandits of Lanfeng County blocking the way, and to the west, Nanguo County where people were forced to shave their heads. Frustrated, he had ended up here.

He’d planned only to stay a night before finding a way forward, but then met the Hawk-Tiger God, received a method to return to his past life, and found a way to advance the evolution of this world. This was a rare opportunity, and he decided to take it seriously. After some thought, he said, “I am currently faced with two matters. First, in Lanfeng County, the Wild Dog bandits are terrorizing the villages, and the Wolf Demon of Black Wolf Ridge frequently descends to harm the people. Second, in Nanguo County, the Mummy Buddha forces people to shave their heads, severing family ties—fathers and sons do not meet, husbands and wives are not together, and the people become ever more lifeless. These two matters must be resolved.”

Ren agreed with the reasoning and said, “Please speak directly—how can I help?”

Shangguan considered for a moment and replied, “Nanguo County presents a complex situation. The Mummy Buddha is also a cultivator, and the situation is tangled. I hope you can eliminate the Mummy Buddha and his monks, take control of Nanguo County, and await the right moment.”

Ren hesitated, “But the imperial court still rules. As cultivators, we should honor heaven and earth, respect the sun and moon, fear the law, and follow the king’s way.” He had considered such matters over a century of practice, but always found this hurdle insurmountable.

Shangguan considered—the imperial court here was already barely able to protect itself, and chaos was obvious. He said, “This is no longer an era where the common people are masters of their own fate, but a world ruled by one family. Throughout history, dynasties have changed as regularly as meals. The sage is the heart of the world, not the voice of one family alone.”

Ren nodded, “Indeed. The current Li dynasty seized the realm from another. Power and responsibility are confused, each generation weaker than the last. The officials now see the world as their personal possession, forgetting that the world belongs to all its people.”

Shangguan sensed that Ren was not a stubborn man and said, “When the world is ungovernable, one hides and waits; when the time is right, one acts. Now that chaos has come, we must prepare, strengthen ourselves, and only then can we achieve more. Otherwise, weak and alone, we will be swept along or forced to serve others. Master, do you know if others share our thoughts?”

“No, I do not,” Ren replied after a moment, though he still felt uneasy—how had the world come to this, even while the court stood? Yet Shangguan’s arguments left him without words. Clearly, there was no avoiding the need to build their strength.

Shangguan looked toward Nanguo County and recited, “When heaven stirs the killing intent, stars shift their places; when earth stirs the killing intent, dragons and snakes rise from the land; when man stirs the killing intent, heaven and earth are overturned; when all stir together, myriad transformations find their foundation.”

“We can only use this chaos to set the foundation for transformation.”

“Well spoken,” Ren replied approvingly. He realized this was an opportunity—perhaps his only one. If he missed it, the next dynasty would be the same, and by then, who knew if he would still have years left to live? This moment was the best chance.

Ren decided to follow Shangguan Chuanyun to the end, and felt that his title should change as well.

First, a change of name could seize some fortune; second, it would suit his destined position. Moreover, by sealing away his original name and birth date, he could hide them from others, preventing anyone from cursing him through sorcery.

This would also guard against harm by curses in such unsettled times. Ren felt certain they would succeed eventually. If, one day, Shangguan Chuanyun was killed by sorcery, all their efforts would be for nothing.

As it happened, Ren knew the art of concealment, and said, “Layman, should we not change how we address you? Though it’s just a thought for now, a formal title is needed. First, it aligns with the destiny of heaven and earth; second, it protects against cursecraft.”

Shangguan agreed—nearly every immortal had an honorific title, not just for the sound but to align with the cosmic order, and only those whose cultivation and virtue reached a certain realm could bear one.

If he succeeded in the future, a title would be necessary, but it was unclear what would be fitting. Shangguan examined the armillary sphere in his mind and suddenly had an idea.

He sensed the armillary sphere, which had recently changed. When Ren spoke of the Five Paths and Six Bridges, the sphere shifted, though he had not had a chance to examine it until now.

Though still somewhat shrouded in mist, its outlines had become clearer.

The armillary sphere was a model of the heavens and earth. Now, he could vaguely make out the twenty-eight lunar mansions, the seven principal stars, the twelve zodiac palaces, and some rough shapes of the four poles and five directions.

It finally resembled an armillary sphere. Before, it had been just a foggy mass—had he not known what it was, he could not have recognized it.

Since his cultivation improved and he absorbed the purple qi from the east, it seemed to have awakened, gradually coming to life, as if growing of its own accord.

This time, it was likely due to a breakthrough in realm or a shift in fortune; it could not have changed for no reason.

There must be a cause.

Shangguan focused his mind on the sphere—he could clearly see the four poles, five directions, twelve zodiac palaces, twenty-eight mansions, the Northern and Southern Dippers.

The armillary sphere was modeled after the cosmos—a microcosm. Only something like this, refined into a magical instrument, could calibrate directions and adjust the fate of nations. In past dynasties, the court always constructed an armillary sphere upon founding a new era.

Though called a national treasure, the armillary sphere was not omnipotent. If the royal house governed so poorly that the people’s resentment mounted, there could be no lasting peace.

In his past life, Shangguan recalled that dynasties destined for destruction all shared one trait: the armillary sphere was neglected, left unused, or the Imperial Observatory was abolished in the final hour.

Yet there was one exception—the dynasty founded by Qin Shi Huang. He valued the sphere above all else. Yet even Qin perished in the end, a mystery passed down among generations of adepts.

Now, as Shangguan gazed at the sphere, he saw that the Gouchen position among the four poles and the Breaking Army star of the Northern Dipper shone faintly. Threads of fate linked it to his own spirit palace; his core energy seemed to stir, though subtly.

Suddenly, a thought struck him: was it possible that the armillary sphere was always his to command, his own magical treasure in a previous life? He spoke aloud:

“Armillary Heaven!”