Chapter Sixty-Three: Seeking the Way at Kunlun, The Mirror and the Dao

“The act of retrieving the Haotian Mirror and my enlightenment of Yuan Hao are, in fact, one and the same.” I met the gaze of the Xuantian Sect Master, my voice calm.

“Oh?” His brows arched with interest. “Please, elaborate.”

“Master Xuantian, let me ask you: why does your Kunlun sect revere this mirror as a divine relic and set it atop the Cliff of Inquiry?” I countered.

“Of course, it is because the Haotian Mirror can pierce through illusions and reveal the heart. It serves as a warning to our disciples to keep their Dao hearts pure and avoid falling into delusion,” Xuantian replied proudly, echoing a truth known to every Kunlun disciple.

“Well said.” I nodded. “Then let me ask you again: is the ‘Dao’ found within the mirror—or within the heart?”

My question rang out like a morning bell or an evening drum, casting Xuantian and all the Kunlun elders present into deep contemplation.

I did not wait for their answers, continuing, “You place your hopes in a mirror, relying on an external object to maintain the purity of your Dao heart. This itself is weakness—a dependency. Your ‘Dao’ is built upon a thing outside yourselves. If this object is lost, would the Dao hearts of all Kunlun collapse as well?”

Each word struck at the core, exposing the very paradox at the heart of Kunlun’s philosophy.

Yuan Hao stood nearby, visibly stirred, his eyes alight with understanding. These words from Elder Jiang resonated deeply with the guidance he had once offered on the ‘benefits of the sect’ and the ‘truth of cultivation,’ though now they were even more profound.

A grave expression settled over Xuantian’s face. As the foremost figure in the ancient martial world, his mind was resolute—but even he was shaken by my words, for he knew them to be true.

“True strength comes from within, not from external things.” My voice echoed across the desolate Cliff of Inquiry. “Your pursuit of the ‘Sea of Divinity Becoming a Spring’ is the very act of turning outward to inward, the beginning of your own quest for the Dao. Yet you seek your path within yourselves while clinging to external objects—this is contradiction. Unless you break free from your dependence on this ‘mirror,’ Kunlun’s ‘wellspring’ will never truly come alive.”

I paused, scanning the stunned faces before me, finally resting my gaze on Xuantian.

“So, my taking of the Haotian Mirror is not to steal your foundation, but to help you—break through your mental barriers, sever your dependencies, and allow your ‘Dao’ to truly return to your heart. Is this not the greatest enlightenment I could offer Kunlun?”

When my words ended, the entire cliff fell into utter silence.

The wind and snow persisted, but within each heart, great waves had been stirred.

Xuantian closed his eyes. His tall figure stood motionless amid the snow and wind for some time. Within his mind, he recalled the admonitions of Kunlun’s ancestors and the bottlenecks he had faced in his own cultivation. Comparing all these with my words—so resounding and penetrating—many past obstacles that had once seemed insurmountable suddenly became clear.

After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes. The domineering, scrutinizing look was gone, replaced by profound respect and admiration.

He bowed deeply before me—solemn, sincere, utterly convinced.

“Your words, sir, exceed what Kunlun could achieve in a hundred years of arduous cultivation. Xuantian has been enlightened.” With this bow, the mighty Kunlun—a titan of the ancient martial world—at last lowered its proud head before the true ‘Great Dao.’

“You are right. Kunlun has indeed relied too much upon external things.” Xuantian admitted frankly, a trace of self-mockery in his voice. “However, the Haotian Mirror is, after all, a symbol of our sect’s thousand-year legacy. To hand it over to you—within the sect, I fear…”

He trailed off, but I understood. Even if his heart was freed, convincing the entire sect would not be easy.

“I understand.” I nodded, showing my principles once again. “Nor would I ever take your possession gratuitously. I’m sure Yuan Hao has told you of what happened at Mount Shu. I can offer you something of equal—or even greater—value in exchange.”

“Oh?” A gleam flashed in Xuantian’s eyes. “What would you offer Kunlun in return?”

I studied him. He was at the very peak of the Divine Sea Realm, just one step from the ‘Condensing the Core’ state I had spoken of. What he lacked was not technique, but a catalyst—a force to break through his bottleneck.

With a faint smile, I sent a strand of spiritual consciousness directly into Xuantian’s mind.

It was not a technique, but a recipe—a pill formula.

The formula bore only one name: “Barrier-Breaking Pill”.

It detailed the search for dozens of spiritual herbs still found on Earth, using ‘True Water’ as a guide, and with special methods, refining a pill capable of cleansing the soul and forcibly breaking through cultivation bottlenecks.

For Xuantian, on the verge of breaking into the Golden Core Realm, the value of this formula was simply beyond measure.

“This…this is…” As the information flooded in, Xuantian began to tremble uncontrollably, his face alight with joy and disbelief. He knew better than anyone what this recipe meant! It meant that the realm he had longed for was no longer an unattainable dream, but within reach at last!

“This formula, together with my earlier guidance on the Dao, as well as the ‘Lesser Artifact Refining Method’ and ‘True Explanation of Core Condensation’—in exchange for your Kunlun’s equally ‘hungry’ spirit stone. Would you consider this a fair trade?” I asked calmly.

“Fair! More than fair!” Xuantian could no longer maintain his composure. He nodded eagerly, gazing at me as if I were a god. “Sir, your talent is divine! Xuantian is utterly convinced! The Haotian Mirror—no, this spirit stone—rightfully belongs to you!”

He immediately turned and bowed respectfully to the Haotian Mirror upon the stone platform.

“Farewell, divine artifact. Help Kunlun break our heart’s shackles and return to the Great Dao!”

With that, he formed a complex hand seal and unleashed a profound incantation. The Haotian Mirror burst forth with radiant light. From its heart, a point of starry brilliance—brighter and deeper than the one at Mount Shu—slowly emerged.

As the light separated, the clarity of the Haotian Mirror diminished rapidly, until at last it became nothing more than an ordinary bronze mirror, falling onto the stone platform with a dull clang.

The spirit stone, meanwhile, transformed into a beam of light that landed steadily in my palm.

It was warm to the touch, its energy even more abundant than the one from Mount Shu.

The second piece—obtained.

I put away the spirit stone, regarding the satisfied Xuantian and the Kunlun elders behind him, all of whom wore pleased expressions. Yet within my heart, there was no ripple.

Exchanging what they did not need for what they most desired—this was my ‘equivalent exchange.’

“Master Xuantian,” I said as I stowed away the spirit stone, “to my knowledge, there were originally many of these stones left behind. Now, Mount Shu and Kunlun each hold one. Does Kunlun’s intelligence network have any clue to the whereabouts of the others?”

By now, Xuantian viewed me as a living divinity. He answered deferentially, “Sir, among our Kunlun records, there are indeed scattered accounts of several other divine stones. Of these, one has the clearest trail.”

He paused, his expression growing somewhat peculiar.

“It is… with the Tang Clan.”