Chapter 367: Auspicious Signs of Dragon and Phoenix

When Zhang Xiaohua caught the flash of hatred in the cat’s eyes, it was as if a heavy hammer struck his heart. He watched as bright red blood trickled from the cat’s mouth, and as its four legs gradually ceased to move. A wave of sorrow suddenly welled up within him. Once the cat lay utterly still, Zhang Xiaohua glanced around, then carefully scooped up the pitiful, feather-light creature from the ground. Step by step, he walked to the roadside, continuing on until he reached a patch of wasteland. Only after checking his surroundings did he set the cat down. Huanhuan, ever obedient, followed closely behind. Zhang Xiaohua took the longsword from Huanhuan’s back and, with a few swift strokes, dug a deep pit in the barren earth.

Lifting the little cat, Zhang Xiaohua gently placed it into the grave, as if afraid to disturb its peaceful dreams. Sorrow filled his heart as he sprinkled soil over the cat, bit by bit, murmuring softly all the while. Only when the grave was completely filled did he stop, dusting off his hands. He looked up at the sky, shrouded in heavy clouds, and sighed deeply: “How fragile is life!”

To be honest, ever since Zhang Xiaohua began cultivating qi, he had acted with ruthless decisiveness. Countless lives had perished at his hand. Perhaps his methods were too skillful, leaving him unaccustomed to the sight of blood, and those he killed were all deserving of death, so he bore little burden in his heart. Yet today, witnessing an innocent cat crushed beneath a carriage, a most ordinary event, unexpectedly stirred his compassion. Perhaps this was the backlash of the murderous aura he had accumulated from killing.

“Life, death, life, death…” Zhang Xiaohua stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing up at the heavens, muttering these words over and over. In that instant, it was as if the entire world had frozen; even the snowflakes hung motionless in the air. Once again, Zhang Xiaohua felt the call of the Dao. In that moment, his consciousness, as before, seemed to leave his body, slowly rising upward. This time, however, with prior experience, he did not rush to ascend, but instead carefully controlled the pace, expanding his awareness to fully sense the entirety of heaven and earth.

Yet soon after, Zhang Xiaohua realized that this enlightenment was different from the last. This time, what his consciousness beheld was not the myriad facets of the mortal world, but rather the cycle of life and death itself. As his awareness ascended and intensified, he first witnessed the death of the cat, then saw the birth of infants and the passing of elders in the nearby villages. His vision expanded further, encompassing births and deaths on a grander scale, normal deaths, unnatural deaths, countless emotions, both positive and negative, passive and active, flooded his mind. In that moment, time and space seemed to lose all meaning.

Zhang Xiaohua saw the disciples of the Piaomiao Sect at Piaomiao Manor locked in deadly combat with those of the other three sects, heard the agonized wails of countless disciples. He saw Ou Peng’s suicide atop Piaomiao Peak, and Yang Ruping’s fearless embrace of death. His vision stretched even farther: he saw himself wielding his flying sword, mercilessly slaying dozens of nameless gang members, saw himself with a small sword killing three disciples of the Heaven’s Way Alliance, saw himself soaring like a celestial being, long sword in hand, cutting down five unknown disciples. He even saw himself following Ou Yan southward, killing the masked old man clad in black.

Zhang Xiaohua’s consciousness soared ever higher. More scenes of bloodshed in the martial world flashed before his mind, as did countless new beginnings. All manner of emotions swirled around him, tempering and refining his spirit, as if the endless cycle of reincarnation was forging his very soul. At the same time, the imprint left by the Dao of Heaven during his last enlightenment grew clearer and deeper within him.

Unbeknownst to him, the sky above Zhang Xiaohua’s head had long since shed its heavy clouds, replaced by a night sky studded with countless brilliant stars. In the far distance, the sun, radiating boundless light and heat, hung like a special star among the others, indistinguishable from them. The starry sky became ever clearer, more complete, more vivid, more alive…

Zhang Xiaohua’s consciousness continued to rise. Though he tried to restrain it, it soared higher still. The earth below seemed infinite, yet within his vision, or perhaps his perception, there was only the endless cycle of life and death, ceaselessly repeating. Perhaps it was but a fleeting instant, or perhaps an eternity; suddenly, a flash of insight struck Zhang Xiaohua: life, death, cycle, reincarnation… With a crack like thunder, his mind was illuminated in an instant. He seemed to understand, yet not fully understand. At that moment, his consciousness surged upward once more, ascending ever higher.

This ascent, however, was different from the last. Previously, he had felt lost and bewildered, unsure of anything. But this time, there was a distinct sense that he had truly grasped something. Though he could not say what it was, he felt certain that somewhere in that vast, boundless starry sky, there was a place where he could find the source of this feeling.

Yet, in this very moment, he forgot once more. It seemed he still lacked the power to search the entire expanse of the heavens. The only outcome awaiting him was to become lost… lost within the unfathomable sea of stars!

At this critical juncture, far ahead in the direction Zhang Xiaohua was facing, high above in the night sky, a sudden storm erupted, a tempest of unimaginable power. This was no ordinary wind, but a storm formed from the boundless Yuan Qi of Heaven and Earth. From some mysterious point, these energies surged forth, instantly filling a vast region. The condensed essence of heaven and earth gathered ever more densely, and before long, two vivid shapes emerged: “Auspicious Dragon and Phoenix!” Zhang Xiaohua’s ascending consciousness could not help but cry out. The moment the words left him, his awareness, just like before, plummeted downward at great speed. Yet this time, he did not dwell on the sensation of falling. Instead, his gaze was fixed upon the distant dragon and phoenix formed of Yuan Qi, watching as they intertwined and danced in the starry sky, slowly descending.

His rapidly falling consciousness returned to his body, which still stood with hands clasped behind his back upon the earth. In that instant, his eyes snapped open as if awakened by a sudden epiphany. His divine sense immediately extended outward, seeking to probe the Yuan Qi high above. Regrettably, though he sensed that his divine sense had grown even stronger, he was still far too distant from the dragon and phoenix to discern anything useful.

With a sigh, Zhang Xiaohua withdrew his divine sense and looked ahead with his own eyes. The sky was still thick with dark clouds, snowflakes drifting down. He shook his head and thought to himself: “I wonder what has happened up ahead to stir such a change in the world’s Yuan Qi, even affecting the Dao of Heaven itself. Truly, the ways of Heaven are unfathomable.”

Without further hesitation, Zhang Xiaohua ignored the snow piling up on the ground, sat cross-legged, and began to examine the gains from his latest union of man and heaven. As expected, the starry sky that manifested the Dao of Heaven was incomparably brilliant, clearer than ever before, and brimming with a mysterious vitality. The Dao of Heaven had left an even deeper impression within Zhang Xiaohua’s consciousness, and at the same time, had bestowed upon him an even greater accumulation of insight.

After some time, Zhang Xiaohua opened his eyes with a gentle smile. This smile was so vivid, seemingly the same as before, yet somehow different, as if it now carried a deeper understanding of life and death.

Clapping the snow from his hands, Zhang Xiaohua stood up and gazed intently at the patch of earth now thinly covered by snow, where the stray cat’s body lay buried. Indeed, every effect has its cause. If he hadn’t happened upon the cat’s death and taken it upon himself to bury its body, how could he have encountered such a fortuitous opportunity? Life and death, how could they be so easily comprehended? And how could the laws of heaven be so readily approached?

He glanced at the Sibu Xiang quietly standing by his side. With a light leap, Zhang Xiaohua mounted its back and patted its head. Huanhuan raised its head and neighed loudly, then joyfully galloped back to the main road, trotting to its center before continuing forward.

Seated on Huanhuan’s back, Zhang Xiaohua unconsciously looked back at the spot where the cat had been struck. A thought rose from the depths of his heart: “If only time could flow backward, perhaps I could have reached out and saved that poor cat from beneath the carriage!”

At this, his heart suddenly stirred, as if he had grasped something. He pondered it carefully, and his eyes lit up. He thought to himself: “Cat, oh cat, I truly ought to thank you. I merely buried you, yet you have brought me endless benefits!”

If Zhang Xiaohua’s encounter with the cat’s death, combined with the murderous aura he had accumulated, had sparked a new way of perceiving the Dao of Heaven, a deeper touch upon the cycle of life and death, beyond the myriad states of human existence, then this latest realization offered direct guidance for the difficulties he faced in practicing the Big Dipper Divine Fist.

“Time cannot truly flow backward, of course. But the movements of a martial art can be reversed. The second stage of the Big Dipper Divine Fist should be practiced from end to beginning. However, this does not simply mean linking the last move to the first, as I have tried before to no avail. Instead, each move must be performed in reverse. Only by doing so can one smoothly transition from the final move back to the first.”

Realizing this key insight, Zhang Xiaohua couldn’t help but think: “Should I erect a monument for the cat, or perhaps give it a more proper burial?”

But he soon smiled. Life and death, separation and reunion, are merely parts of the Dao of Heaven. Anything that has not transcended the Dao must go through this process. Sometimes, death is as light as a feather; other times, it is as weighty as Mount Tai. To him, the cat’s death was as heavy as Mount Tai, but to the carriage driver, it was lighter than a feather. The cat would not care about any rituals after its passing, but he cared about the meaning of its death. Rather than giving the cat a ceremony that meant little, it was better to keep the lesson of the cat’s death in his heart as a warning to himself.

Death, in truth, can be very simple; just a point of the flying sword, a drop of blood.

Yet death can also be exceedingly complex; perhaps even a lifetime of struggle would not bring true understanding!

This sword is now bound to life and death; from now on, it must not be drawn lightly.

Alas, who in this world can truly explain it all? In this desolate wilderness, the life and death of a stray cat, aside from Zhang Xiaohua himself, who else would care? Yet this very cat’s death would, in the future, save the lives of countless people in the martial world. The web of cause and effect within is something even Zhang Xiaohua could not fully unravel.