Chapter 14: The Human Heart Is Like a Ghost
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Chapter 14: The Human Heart Is Like a Ghost
The human heart?
With the crackling of burning branches echoing in his ears, Xu Yan’s mind was in chaos.
‘What does Master mean by the human heart at a time like this?’ he wondered desperately.
The current situation was created by his master. If he wanted to change it, to save his master, he would have to face not only the Taiqing Sect Taoists but also countless townspeople who had placed their hopes on appeasing the Mountain God.
Xu Daoyuan, already in an inescapable situation, had now mentioned something obscure about the human heart. How could Xu Yan calm his mind to comprehend such an elusive concept? At one point before the fire, the young Taoist had even considered detonating the thunder pearl to destroy everything around him.
‘If I use the thunder pearl, I could kill all these evil Taoists,’ he thought darkly. ‘But I would also kill innocent townspeople… and maybe even Master.’
But this cold thought had barely emerged before it was dispelled by the old Taoist’s gentle words.
“The vast world is filled with wonders. There are martial artists who cultivate immense strength to split stones, Taoists who seek their true heart to fly through the heavens, monks who worship Buddha yet don’t abstain from meat and wine, their hearts pure as bodhi. There are great scholars whose brushstrokes create colorful landscapes that attract fish and birds, fierce foreigners who eat raw meat and drink blood yet are invincible on horseback, and extraordinary people who can turn beans into soldiers and command wind and rain…”
Facing the raging fire, what Xu Daoyuan spoke of seemed unrelated to the human heart, yet it was as if he had opened a door to a magnificent world.
“Once there was a martial artist who lived by the sword. He roamed the martial world of the Pu Kingdom, rarely meeting a worthy opponent, until he reached the realm of grandmaster. Later, he discovered that the peak of martial arts was far from the end. So he traveled throughout the land, visiting extraordinary people, until finally, he found a cultivator’s method.”
The old Taoist, now telling a story while facing the sea of fire, still stood with a straight back. He continued slowly, “It was an evil method. He believed his heart and sword were one, fearing no external force. After practicing it, his skills advanced rapidly. His sword strikes were like rainbows, unmatched. Some feared his swordsmanship and called him the Sword Demon. Unfortunately, he never saw the broader sky. The unity of heart and sword was merely wishful thinking.”
The old Taoist’s figure began to stoop. He coughed for a while before continuing, “Evil methods prioritize quick results but cannot overcome the heart demon, leading to a lifetime of degradation and eventual backlash. One night, the Sword Demon went berserk, losing his mind. He slaughtered all nineteen members of his household. When he regained consciousness, he was filled with remorse. He broke his sword, abandoned his cultivation, and fled to distant lands. His name was Xu Shan…”
The tragic story evoked deep empathy, but Xu Yan heard a profound regret in his master’s low voice.
‘Is Master talking about himself?’ Xu Yan realized with shock. ‘Was he once the Sword Demon?’
“Disciple, remember, a sword has two edges—it hurts others and also hurts oneself. That’s why I gave you the courtesy name Zhijian, meaning ‘goodness dwells in the heart, evil stops at the sword.'”
Xu Daoyuan patted his disciple’s thin shoulder and smiled, “The sword is like the human heart, and the human heart is like a ghost. Inside everyone’s heart lives a demon. Some let the demon run wild, causing devastation. Others imprison the demon for life, achieving nothing. What you must learn is to master the demon, not be mastered by it.”
Xu Yan opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but was interrupted by the old Taoist.
“I know that in your heart also lives a pig, haha.” The old Taoist, rarely making jokes, gave his disciple one last loving look and strode forward, saying casually, “If you truly want to become a pig, then let that pig devour all the fierce tigers in the world!”
Xu Yan reached out, trying to grab his master’s robe, but grasped only air. He watched helplessly as his master walked toward the Path to Heaven covered in flames.
“People only know that death has different weights, like Mount Tai versus a feather. Little do they know that exchanging a dying life for two children’s lives is a great bargain. Haha, no loss, no loss!” The old Taoist, stepping into the fire, still spoke with humor.
“Master!!!”
The young Taoist, tears streaming from his eyes, saw the Black and White Impermanence waiting on both sides of the fire. He knew that today was his master’s appointed time of death. Rather than passing away at Chengyun Temple, he chose to die in place of two children. Perhaps at Xu Daoyuan’s stage, Xu Yan would also consider this a tremendous bargain.
‘Master knew he was going to die today anyway,’ Xu Yan thought with sudden understanding. ‘That’s why he was so willing to sacrifice himself.’
The sorrow in his heart melted into a sense of acceptance. Xu Yan wiped the tears from his eyes and, looking at the old Taoist about to disappear into the great fire, called out loudly, “Master! Did that Sword Demon Xu Shan also have a courtesy name like me?”
“Yes, his courtesy name was Daoyuan…”
The old Taoist’s final whisper was gradually consumed by the rising flames. All that remained in Xu Yan’s heart was a name that had once struck fear into all martial arts masters across the land.
Sword Demon Xu Shan, courtesy name Daoyuan!
Just like Xu Yan’s courtesy name Zhijian, which people mistook for a Taoist title, the old Taoist’s title was simply his courtesy name. His real name was Xu Shan, courtesy name Daoyuan.
Regarding his master’s identity, Xu Yan had often speculated over the years. He knew very well that his master was no ordinary person. An ordinary person could not have taught him that extremely fierce stone-throwing skill. He had fantasized that his master was a great hero or an extraordinary person who had retreated to the mountains. But he never imagined that his master was simply a heartbroken man.
The flames in the square gradually died down. The ceremony was finally complete. The Taiqing Sect Taoists returned to Chengyun Temple with their gains, making the temple their base.
The first step had been successfully completed. Next would be the time to spread their teachings and recruit disciples. This was their purpose in coming to Linshan Town. Similar scenes would play out in surrounding towns at regular intervals. Only by bewitching the common people could the Taiqing Sect grow stronger, until they could rival the imperial family.
The people had dispersed. In the empty square, only the young Taoist remained, searching through the ashes for his master’s remains. After much effort, Xu Yan collected some bone fragments and carefully wrapped them up.
Remains should not be exposed to the sky. His master had no descendants, but he still had this disciple. Xu Yan decided to bury his master in the old cemetery because it was livelier there.
With many people buried there, his master wouldn’t be lonely.
The sky gradually darkened. For the townspeople of Linshan Town, this ceremony merely meant an old Taoist was burned to death, and he had volunteered. It had nothing to do with them. Most importantly, given Xu Daoyuan’s prestige, he would surely speak well before the Mountain God. As long as there was no disaster, they would be satisfied.
The wishes of common people are always very simple—to have enough to eat and be warm. But Xu Yan’s wishes were not just about food and warmth.
In the backyard of Chengyun Temple, the young Taoist sat leaning against the pigsty, watching the brightly lit main hall and listening to the occasional bursts of laughter. At the corner of his mouth, a smile gradually appeared.
That smile was somewhat eerie, appearing extremely cold.
‘They celebrate while my master burns,’ he thought with growing rage. ‘They will pay for this.’
“Little Black, Master is gone. Do you think he’ll be lonely?”
Oink, oink.
In response to Xu Yan’s soliloquy, Little Black Pig always liked to play along. Its long snout, extending through the fence, twisted vigorously, as if answering Xu Yan’s question.
“I also think Master will be lonely. Why not find someone to accompany him?” Looking toward the main hall, his gaze filled with coldness. Xu Yan whispered, “Let them accompany Master on his journey!”
The human heart is like a ghost. This final teaching from Xu Daoyuan would benefit Xu Yan for a lifetime. But today, he decided to release the demon in his heart.
Under the midnight sky, which seemed particularly distant, two shadows gradually appeared outside the main hall of Chengyun Temple. As Xu Yan made his decision, the figures of the Black and White Impermanence silently arrived…
