Chapter 294

Chapter 294

Jiang Chen had originally planned to claim the Eternal Ancient Emperor’s legacy directly using the All-Heaven Mirror. However, observing Zi Qingyan’s increasing detachment from emotion as she immersed herself in understanding the Dao, he altered his plans.

He feared her eventual loss of humanity, her emotions eroding until she became one with the Dao itself—a path Jiang Chen refused to let her walk.

While immersing oneself in heavenly truths could indeed accelerate one’s cultivation, the cost was significant. Over time, emotions would wane and ultimately dissolve, leading the practitioner to merge completely with the natural laws, losing individuality.

Jiang Chen knew there was another path—the path of the mortal world. Even the Eternal Ancient Emperor had proven that merging with the Dao was not the sole way forward.

Zi Qingyan, however, frowned slightly, struggling to comprehend his reasoning. “Why is that a bad thing?” she countered. “I immerse myself in the truths of heaven and earth every day. Each day, I progress further in understanding the Dao and grow stronger. Isn’t that the goal of cultivation?”

She added, her tone questioning, “If indulging in the mundane halts one’s cultivation, isn’t that against the purpose of a cultivator? Aren’t we meant to comprehend the Dao and grow stronger?”

“You’re not wrong,” Jiang Chen replied, shaking his head.

Zi Qingyan’s confusion deepened. “Then why stop me?”

“Because neither of us is wrong,” Jiang Chen said after a moment of contemplation. “What you seek is indeed the goal of every cultivator. But cultivation isn’t about blindly pursuing strength. Why do you seek power? Is it solely for its own sake?”

Zi Qingyan gave him a puzzled look. “Of course. If not to grow stronger, then what? Isn’t cultivation about understanding the essence of heaven and earth?”

Jiang Chen smiled faintly, his gaze soft but resolute. “Strength without purpose is empty. True power lies in knowing why you seek it and how it serves the greater path.”

“The Dao of the heavens is profound, but so is the Dao of the mortal world. Both must coexist, for the grand Dao encompasses all things.”

“The essence of heaven and earth that you understand is but its surface!” Jiang Chen’s voice carried a calm yet profound weight. “The true essence of heaven and earth isn’t limited to its intangible rules and laws.”

“It also lies in the myriad beings that inhabit it—the countless races and their coexistence, the collision of thoughts and emotions that give rise to the mortal world. That too, is the essence of heaven and earth!”

He paused, his gaze steady on Zi Qingyan. “Let me ask you this: as someone solely focused on comprehending the Dao, can you surpass the Eternal Ancient Emperor?”

Jiang Chen wasn’t trying to overturn Zi Qingyan’s beliefs but wanted her to explore more options. He hoped she wouldn’t sacrifice her emotions for the sake of strength, becoming one with the void laws of the universe.

“Of course not,” Zi Qingyan admitted after a long silence, her voice calm but tinged with self-awareness.

She knew her limits. The Eternal Ancient Emperor was a figure of unparalleled genius, a singular existence throughout the ages. Perhaps the man before her, Jiang Chen, had the potential to rival such a being. But as for herself, she lacked that confidence.

“The higher one ascends in cultivation, the more one understands the immense power of the Eternal Ancient Emperor,” she murmured.

Jiang Chen nodded slightly. “Let’s not talk about the Eternal Ancient Emperor for a moment. Let me ask you this instead: are you a match for me?”

Zi Qingyan’s brows furrowed slightly, but she answered honestly. “No.”

“Not even if we were in the same realm?” Jiang Chen pressed.

“No,” she admitted once again, her tone devoid of hesitation. For Zi Qingyan, the world was a dichotomy of black and white—either something was, or it wasn’t. Nuance rarely factored into her worldview.

Jiang Chen, however, sought to show her that the world wasn’t just black and white. There were shades of gray, brilliant reds, and a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors.

“Since you’re not stronger than me,” Jiang Chen continued, “it means your chosen path isn’t necessarily the only correct one. I’m not denying the path you’ve chosen to walk.”

“I only want you to see that the grand Dao of heaven and earth isn’t confined to its intangible laws. It’s also built upon the mortal world and the billions of living beings within it.”

“Even the Eternal Ancient Emperor walked this path, traversing the shackles of endless epochs and ultimately surpassing himself to ascend into the highest realm of immortality. So tell me, do you think the path of the mortal world is not worth exploring?”

Zi Qingyan fell silent, her thoughts churning as Jiang Chen’s words echoed in her mind. For a long while, she remained deep in contemplation.

Finally, she lifted her head, her expression slightly stunned. “The Eternal Ancient Emperor ascended to immortality?”

Immortality—a concept rooted in ancient myths and legends. Throughout countless ages, no one had ever been known to achieve it. Not even the peerless Emperors of their time had succeeded.

This was the first time Zi Qingyan had heard that the Eternal Ancient Emperor had achieved such a feat.

“Indeed,” Jiang Chen affirmed with a faint smile. “The original path to immortality in this world was sealed. Yet, the Eternal Ancient Emperor found a new way, forging the path of the Immortal Ascendant—a path that transcends the mortal world through a hundred lifetimes of understanding its essence.”

“The mortal world isn’t a poison,” he explained patiently. “For most cultivators, it becomes a poison due to their lack of talent, background, or cultivation. They fall into despair and lose themselves, wasting their cultivation. For them, the mortal world is indeed a poison.”

“But for you and me, it’s different. We lack nothing, and the mortal world’s so-called poison won’t affect us. On the contrary, it can become the medicine that helps us ascend to greater heights.”

“Everything has two sides. While immersing yourself in the Dao of heaven and earth can indeed strengthen you, it will ultimately erode your emotions and transform you into a mere fragment of the Dao itself.”

“When that time comes, you may still be Zi Qingyan, but not the Zi Qingyan I know—the one with flesh and blood, emotions and thoughts.”

His voice softened, filled with sincerity. “I don’t want you to lose yourself and become just a name—a being devoid of warmth. But in the end, the choice is yours. This is your path, and I respect whatever you decide.”

Jiang Chen’s deep gaze locked onto Zi Qingyan, his tone resolute yet gentle. “If you choose to continue as you are, I won’t stop you. It’s your road to walk, after all.”

Zi Qingyan fell into a prolonged silence, the weight of Jiang Chen’s words settling heavily on her mind. After a long pause, she slowly lifted her head, her voice calm but carrying newfound resolve.

“The heavens are distant, but the mortal world suits me.”

At her words, a faint smile spread across Jiang Chen’s face.