Volume 2, Chapter 42 – Life-Fire

Yu He wrote up what had happened in the group chat. Tao Shuohua took it very seriously, asking over and over whether any of them were injured, or if anyone had been affected by the rampaging soul.

“As long as no one’s hurt, that’s good!” Once she confirmed their condition, she let out a breath. “Then I’m going to trouble you two to hold the site a bit longer! Cao Chuan will bring people to collect the bodies soon.”

Typing was too slow for something like this, so she simply opened a group voice call to let everyone talk freely.

There weren’t many people, though—so far it was just the three of them.

Cao Chuan had just been on; now he’d gone to drive over and pick people up. No one else was online—who knew what they were busy with.

“Aunt Tao.” While Yu He went to take a leak, Bai Xiang asked Tao Shuohua, “I want to get a detailed understanding of this ‘rampaging soul.’”

“Old Fish Head didn’t explain it to you? He’s really lazy.” Tao Shuohua chuckled. “Honestly, you could probably guess most of it. It’s also the influence of a Demon Pool’s phantom-god.”

“Demon Pools are born of heaven and earth, and hide many subtle mysteries.” Her tone gradually turned serious. “There’s a saying passed down from antiquity: Demon Pools and demon beasts are like the soul and the body.”

“‘Like’?”

“Yes—Demon Pool equals soul, demon beast equals body. The latter isn’t a byproduct of the former; they’re two parts that make up one whole.”

“Then why…”

“You’re asking why the two are now separate?” There was a faint shift in Tao Shuohua’s tone. “I don’t know that.”

“Like I said, it’s only one old saying from ancient times. It’s called the Demon-God Doctrine . It claims demons are wondrous beings that violate the ordained tally of fate, and so were smitten by heaven’s will and split in two. From then on, the clear and the turbid were parted and could never meet again, so Demon Pools could no longer merge with demon beasts.”

“What I actually want to tell you is another theory— the Doctrine of Life-Fire .”

“Life-fire is soul-fire. Most people know the ancients compared the world to a boundless sea, the body to a boat, and the soul—that is, the inner core of the heart-aspect—to the person standing at the prow, ferrying across. But not many non-cultivators know they also said: ‘The body is the wax candle, life is the soul-fire.’ It means that the core inner soul keeps burning at the cost of the body as fuel—as wax. It maintains itself by consuming life.”

Life-fire?

Soul-fire?

That was a novel way to put it.

In the past, Bai Xiang had only likened the body to a wooden boat and the soul lodging in it to the person traveling by ship. She had never thought there was another angle.

The body as a wax candle?

Savoring it carefully, she found the Doctrine of Life-Fire much crueler than the Body-as-Boat theory.

Under the Body-as-Boat theory, the body and soul supported each other; there was at least the possibility that the two could cooperate and cross the great Dao together.

But the Doctrine of Life-Fire was different. That system laid it bare: the body and soul were natural enemies.

If one side fed on the other, what else could they be?

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The most interesting part was, after running the two theories through her mind several times, Bai Xiang found they both had their own logic.

Because neither could be disproven.

No one, from ancient times to now, had ever achieved the Dao and ascended as an immortal. That meant no body had ever been truly undying.

Without a piece of evidence like that, how could you refute the Doctrine of Life-Fire?

Those who firmly believed the Doctrine of Life-Fire to be true could easily conclude: it was precisely because the soul had drawn too much nourishment from the body that the body aged and died.

“Aunt Tao, what is it you’re really trying to tell me?”

Bai Xiang had many thoughts, but she wasn’t sure. She chose to ask openly.

“If the body is a wax candle and the soul is the flame—then what happens if that candle meets another flame?” Tao Shuohua countered.

Bai Xiang frowned. “It would probably catch fire too.”

“Exactly.” Tao Shuohua sighed. “It hasn’t been proven, but many people believe this—Demon Pools can treat the human body as wax to ignite demon-fire, and then use that demon-fire to influence and assimilate the life-fire of the soul.”

“They believe this is the reason behind pollution and derangement.”

Metaphysical nonsense.

Bai Xiang gave her own verdict in private.

After all, nobody had ever actually seen any real ‘fire’ here. It was conjecture.

“I don’t particularly like this stuff myself,” said Tao Shuohua. “The reason I’m telling you anyway is to warn you early, so you don’t sink into it.”

“All these theories have something of value. They’re fine as reference along the cultivation path, but you shouldn’t believe any one of them completely. Above all, don’t let them make you doubt the Dao you’ve chosen.”

Naturally.

Bai Xiang finally understood.

Sword Dao in Great Yu was odd to begin with.

Ordinary mortals, who didn’t cultivate the Sword Dao, had no way to control Demon Pools. So how could Sword Dao practitioners do it?

By heart-aspect.

But heart-aspect was itself a mysterious concept—a fusion of wisdom, experience, and state of mind. It was really not as simple as “a power system.”

Bai Shengju’s realm had stalled for years after his mental state was broken; that was another strange manifestation of heart-aspect.

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So which theory was true didn’t matter much to a cultivator.

You could believe whichever one you liked.

What mattered was that you didn’t doubt your own Dao.

As long as your Dao-heart was firm, the seed of heart-aspect could remain intact.

That was the source of a Sword Dao cultivator’s power, a miracle that existed because you believed in it.

So Tao Shuohua’s intentions were obvious—she wasn’t just answering Bai Xiang’s question. She was using it to teach her, to tell her to hold fast to her Dao-heart.

A foodie actually preaching?

Bai Xiang couldn’t help thinking, and tucked Aunt Tao’s lesson away in her heart.

When Yu He came back, the three of them began discussing the two black-clad men again.

“It was a cloned-plate car.”

Tao Shuohua shared the results of her inquiry. “No identity… Either they faked their deaths and erased their records or they came from abroad. Personally, I lean toward the latter.”

Demon Pool experimentation was a major taboo. This was the Demon-Suppressing Bureau’s territory in Qizhou—no normal local company would dare.

“Then why did he have a Benling Tiger?” Bai Xiang asked.

“That brings us to what Benling Sword Dao used to be: Fuhu Temple.”

Tao Shuohua paused before going on. “Fuhu Temple was a famous Nanling temple seven hundred years ago. The south wasn’t the peaceful, pleasant place it is today. The original Benling Tiger was a terrifying great demon lurking there, and Fuhu Temple was made up of monks who suppressed it with their own bodies.”

“Benling Sword Dao came from monks leaving the faith?” Bai Xiang asked.

“Yes,” Tao Shuohua confirmed. “Fuhu Temple guarded Nanling for eighty years, refining the tiger demon and founding the unique Benling tradition. They were already qualified to receive an imperial summons back then—if they hadn’t split, they would’ve risen much earlier.”

“Split?”

“Over ideals,” Yu He cut in, his tone low. “Once the south was pacified, the monks of Fuhu Temple divided into two factions. One wanted to accept an imperial summons, enjoy their rewards and titles. The other said, ‘Nanling is at peace, but when has the world’s disorder ever been only Nanling’s?’ So the temple split.”

“And after that?” Bai Xiang listened, enthralled.

“After that?” Yu He laughed. “It’s said that because they refused the summons and offended the Imperial House, all those who insisted on continuing to suppress demons went west—they left the country.”

So they might also have the method to cultivate a Benling Tiger? Were those two men from the splintered Fuhu Temple?

Bai Xiang thought it was very likely.

It was just that back then, Fuhu Temple hadn’t yet evolved into Benling Sword Dao. The latter’s current techniques had been refined after accepting the imperial summons and trading research with other great sects. There was no way the research environment abroad could compare.

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That’s why neither of those two knew Benling Sword Dao.

And to avoid exposing their origins and leaving a trail back to Fuhu Temple, the younger man had chosen to unseal and derange himself.

They didn’t get to talk for long, because Cao Chuan arrived quickly.

They collected all the bodies and hauled them away. Watching his subordinates hosing the ground down, Cao Chuan said to Bai Xiang with feeling, “Nothing good ever happens wherever you are.”

“You didn’t want to come?” Bai Xiang countered.

Cao Chuan shook his head.

There were points for cleanup too.

He’d love nothing more than for Bai Xiang to stir up as much trouble as possible.

“But you do need to get that temper under control.”

As he was leaving, Cao Chuan gave her a warning.

“Last time, a lot of people were watching, and you really did have an excuse. That’s why no one bothered you for cutting someone down in the street.”

“Don’t make a habit of it!” He held up a finger. “Unless you get your license.”

On the way back, Bai Xiang mulled over his words.

“Thinking about a Swordsman’s License?”

Cao Chuan had left a car for them. Yu He was driving, and glanced sideways at Bai Xiang’s thoughtful profile.

“Can I take it at seventeen?” Bai Xiang asked.

“This thing doesn’t care about age,” Yu He said. “I can help you set it up. You really do need a status.”

In the past, Bai Xiang had relied on her connections to the powerful. Killing a few enemies wasn’t a big deal. But that indulgence was not unlimited.

The logic was simple: right now, she was still a commoner with no rank.

A noble killing a servant didn’t count as much. A commoner killing a commoner was a different story.

Unless she got certified.

“Swordsman”—that shi wasn’t just an empty word.

After chatting with Yu He a while longer, he said he’d help her set up an exam with the Sword Dao Association in the near future. They rode back to Jinshui Construction and submitted the completed commission to Manager Zheng Kang.

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“Thank you so much!”

Manager Zheng practically bowed with gratitude. “Thank you, thank you! The payment’s already been transferred to Miss Bai’s account. As for the follow-up contract, we’ll have to wait for the bank’s appraisal. Please bear with us a little longer!”

That was how the process went. Bai Xiang nodded and left the building with Yu He.

“I’m heading back.”

Yu He dropped into the driver’s seat. “We shouldn’t stick together all the time—that’s too big a target… You can grab a cab back, right?”

Bai Xiang nodded. He nodded back, stepped on the gas, and drove off.

She stood by the roadside in a daze for a moment. Then, under the gaze of more than a few eyes, she turned around and went back into Jinshui’s building.

“Manager Zheng.”

She found Zheng Kang again.

“I wanted to ask—after we left this afternoon, did anyone else come looking for you?”

“Hm?” Zheng Kang had thought she was here to hurry him about the contract. He hadn’t expected this, and a few puzzled frown lines appeared on his forehead.

“This… yes, actually!”

There was nothing he needed to hide, so he answered directly. “Yin Hua from Nanmu Consultants came by. He wanted to take this commission, but he was a step too late.”

He hesitated, then asked quietly, “You didn’t have a run-in with them, did you?”

In his view, if Bai Xiang was asking, it was likely Yin Hua had brought people to watch by the site, and that kind of picking-peaches behavior had angered her.

“No.” Bai Xiang shook her head. “It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to know.”

“Thank you, Manager Zheng.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Bai!”

Casually asking a few more details, Bai Xiang learned that a foreigner had been with Yin Hua—a white man from an overseas consultancy called “Reef.”

Leaving Jinshui’s doors once more, Bai Xiang stood under the roadside trees, fingers stroking her sword hilt, her half-lowered eyes faintly cold.

Doctrine of Life-Fire?

If that theory held…

Then ‘Feixiang Heaven’ didn’t necessarily have to feed on demon-fire alone.