Volume Two: Taking on a Mission Chapter Thirteen: Amidst Mountains and Seas

On the Cultivation Star, unrest had persisted for many years, arising from countless causes and bringing with it endless troubles. It was much the same as the year when Chen Chen’s three souls—the Heaven Soul, Earth Soul, and Human Soul—had split apart, when a measure of unease had spread through the world.

Fear of the unknown remained one of the deepest instincts in the hearts of all living beings.

Once, he had shaken Heaven and Earth, making even ghosts and gods weep.

Now, carrying with him a trace of bewilderment about life, he had stepped into the mortal world once more, entering the place he had once longed for.

Do not say that Heaven and Earth are without instruction; how many supreme beings have already become memories of the past?

How many had once revealed their brilliance? How many lives had followed their own course?

What awakened within Chen Chen was also the multitude of memories he had accumulated along the way.

When his cultivation had not yet reached the heights of Heaven and Earth, even the streams descending from those great mountains had been difficult to cross. While traveling through famous mountains and grand rivers, one still had to watch one’s step—to look at the road beneath one’s feet, the road that countless beings had once labored to lay down. That was the past, a past forged from blood and sweat.

How many people had made possible the ease with which he lived today—the food, clothing, shelter, and travel he now took for granted?

True cultivation was often not a matter of how noble one was in the present. It was a matter of what one had laid down along the road, how long one had practiced upon it, and how one had managed to arrive at the place one occupied today.

In those days, Chen Chen had carried the faint hope that he might conquer others through force, and in doing so had received many blessings that inspired envy.

But what truly won the respect of all beings was the merit each creature accumulated along the journey, and the ability to walk that path without stirring even the slightest ripple.

Some might have believed that the people who had once played the role of Chen Chen were Chen Chen himself. Yet when the moment of truth came, they suddenly realized that perhaps they had merely been fortunate enough to witness a glimpse of that journey’s unfolding.

Within that unfolding, they had seen that face. At the time, they might have thought that man was Chen Chen.

Even now, one still had to seek the answer: Was the Chen Chen who had risen from the meteorite still safe and sound? Did he still possess the power to reach Heaven and Earth?

Green mountains and flowing waters gave birth to beautiful legends; a few such legends eventually became destiny.

I have often harbored countless intentions, yet none can compare with the choices made by others.

The one dwelling amid those jade mountains and steep ridges might once have fallen into a deep sleep—or might already have awakened.

Perhaps it was time to put his appearance in order, whether in outward form or in every aspect of his daily life.

There had been those who thought he was merely another libertine adrift in the mortal world.

Yet once he had shaved away his beard and restored the cleanest, most handsome features to his face, there emerged from him a trace of uprightness, and a trace of majesty.

That majesty still revealed his awareness of the complexity of his surroundings, and the same vigilance he had possessed from the beginning.

Chen Chen had climbed out of the earth once more. This time, he carried with him a past unknown to most.

It was simply because he was the Chen Chen from the very beginning. Chen Chen was ultimately Chen Chen—not one of the imitations, nor one of those who had long since perished.

And yet, at the very beginning, there had been that figure who had struck a Heavenly Stele across the void.

Perhaps he had once astounded the ages. Perhaps he had once captivated countless young women, becoming the dream lover of many.

But amid this great age, he still had to struggle forward. No matter how precious he had once been, while walking beneath Heaven and Earth he had to rely on his own abilities and continue onward with care.

Throughout Heaven and Earth, countless lives struggled to survive. Their hopes for the future were indispensable, as were his own yearning for life and his attachment to it.

The beauty of the mortal world came bound to countless prices and shackles. Only those able to endure them had any hope of truly possessing it.

Otherwise, there would be nothing but open and covert struggles along the road—one person fighting another, each striving to seize what the other possessed.

How many could truly obtain what they sought? And how many, while struggling to survive, chose to withdraw in silence amid the ruthless contests of their enemies?

How many laws governed the Great Dao of Heaven and Earth? How many people ever obtained wealth and beauty?

Amid the clamor of the mundane world, how many truly had their wishes fulfilled? And of those whose wishes were fulfilled, how many truly gained what they desired?

The choices of all beings under Heaven and Earth had long since lost the reserve they once possessed. Many distorted and unhealthy impulses had become the reasons that divided living beings into entirely different paths.

Just as some would rather remain unmarried than settle, unwilling to soil the exquisite painting of their lives.

How many grudges and grievances filled the mortal world? How many struggles over gain and possession?

Even now, what disgusted people most was still the thought of being treated as a mere spare—of hearing someone say, “You are only a backup. Once I have finished playing with the others, I will come back to you.”

Life in the human world was filled with too many hardships and uncertainties, and with too many faces revealed when you or I rose to power—or fell from it.

How many people understood that the journey across mountains and seas had its limits? How many understood that all living beings so often depended upon one another for survival?

No one knew whether the Chen Chen of this journey was merely a reckless brute who wished to solve every problem with force, or whether he needed to accumulate more experience throughout his life, cultivate greater patience, acquire more learning, and understand the value of integrity.

After shaving his beard, Chen Chen chose to leave the prosperous and clamorous mountains.

The Chen Chen of this journey walked with the greatest freedom. He bore none of the bonds imposed by other beings, and there were few constraints placed upon him.

He merely put himself in order, walked out of the mountains, entered the mortal world, and stepped into the freedom once longed for by all living beings—or into the martial world of flashing blades and crossing swords.

Such a place was filled with open and covert struggles, with contests of wit and courage. The slightest mistake might once again plunge him into mortal danger.

Living freely, again and again—how much of the freedom people enjoyed was merely the result of civilization having evolved to this point?

There was no need to rush. The many magnificent scenes he had once witnessed elsewhere could not be hastened into existence, nor could the prosperous age he had once known elsewhere be summoned at will—a golden era in which the laws of Heaven and Earth had solidified, all beings lived and worked in peace, and the world rested in serenity.

It was simply that, on this journey, Chen Chen had happened to descend upon a star known as the Cultivation Star.

With his temperament, he did not care about accumulating boundless merit. He sought only the satisfaction of repaying kindness and avenging grudges.

When prosperous, he lived at ease, drinking wine and rejoicing with friends.

When reduced to poverty and despair, he would put himself in order and carefully plan how to make a living.

Even now, with Chen Chen’s breadth of experience, among the countless stars and civilizations, he could still be said to occupy no more than a corner of the world.

Choose one place. Choose one haven of peace. Then walk the road that lies ahead.

One journey across mountains and seas after another—how many cultivate themselves by cultivating mountains and seas?

The cultivation of mountains and seas was endless. Cultivation, cultivation, and still more cultivation.

Chen Chen continued onward as he always had. Perhaps he had once climbed towering peaks; perhaps he had once fallen into perilous situations.

Whatever he had experienced before, it was all cultivation—cultivating the self, cultivating the mountains and seas, cultivating the mountains and seas through cultivation.

The mountains and seas endured, again and again. In cultivation, when could truth and falsehood truly be distinguished?

This time, Chen Chen intended to blend into the bustling city and enter the sphere of its ordinary life.

No one knew what plans he had once possessed.

To survive in a corrupt world, a lack of integrity could hardly avoid leading one astray.

To face the great age with the heart of a cultivator; to face it with the heart that cultivates mountains and seas.

Only at the very end did he discover that, from beginning to end, a single profound mystery had remained concealed within.