Chapter Seventy-One: The True Essence of the Divine Mechanism, The Flame of Legacy

Tang Family Fortress, Forbidden Chamber.

This was the very heart where generations of Tang Clan leaders had secluded themselves to study the art of mechanisms. The shelves lining the walls brimmed with exquisite mechanism parts and dust-laden blueprints and manuscripts.

At this moment, Tang Ao and five white-haired elders of the Tang Clan sat upright and solemn, like the most devoted students, quietly listening to my teaching.

Yi Yi sat quietly by my side. She had little interest in the mechanical arts of the mortal world, but she enjoyed watching her father absorbed in his craft. In her eyes, her father at this very moment radiated a light called “wisdom.”

“The foundation of the Tang Clan’s mechanist art lies in ‘ingenuity’—the pursuit of structural subtlety and the transmission of force. This is not wrong, but it is merely the domain of ‘technique,’ the physical form of the ‘device.’”

My voice was soft, but it resounded clearly in the silent chamber, striking each listener’s heart and mind.

“What you have lost is the realm of ‘Dao’—the soul of the device.”

I casually picked up a mechanical spider, a source of pride for the Tang Clan. It had eight blade-like legs and a venomous jet concealed in its abdomen; it was a perfect killing machine.

“In your hands, it is a dead object. Only by human manipulation can it serve its purpose. Am I right?”

Tang Ao and the elders all nodded in unison—this was precisely the dilemma they faced.

“But the true essence of the ‘Divine Mechanism Codex’ is not in fabrication, but in ‘bestowal.’”

I placed the mechanical spider on the ground and said to Tang Ao, “Extend your hand, place it on its back, and guide a thread of your inner energy along the path I describe.”

Tang Ao did as instructed, his expression utterly focused.

“Steady your mind, calm your breath. Imagine your intention as an invisible thread. Now, divide your inner energy into three streams. One, infuse into its core—this is the source of ‘power.’ Another, wind around its eight legs—this is the pivot of ‘movement.’ The most important stream, channel into the crystal at its head, imprinting your intention—‘Guard this gate, attack any intruder without permission.’ Feel it, communicate with it, rather than commanding it harshly.”

My words, imbued with the guiding strength of a Nascent Soul cultivator’s spirit, allowed Tang Ao to perceive the flow of his energy and the extension of his will with unprecedented clarity.

This was a realm he had never touched before.

In his perception, the cold mechanical spider no longer seemed a heap of steel parts, but a “life” with which one could communicate. His inner energy and will, like blood and nerves, gradually merged into its “body.”

Buzz—

The moment his last wisp of intention was imprinted, a faint light shone from the crystal at the spider’s head.

I withdrew my guidance.

Tang Ao slowly pulled back his hand, drenched in sweat, but his eyes shone with uncontained excitement and joy.

“It moved… it moved!” An elder pointed at the ground, his voice trembling.

The mechanical spider, without any external manipulation, elegantly stretched its eight long legs, patrolled the floor in a slow circle, then came to rest quietly at the chamber’s doorway, like the most loyal of sentinels.

It was alive!

“This… this is ‘communion with spirit’…” Tang Ao murmured, eyes brimming with tears.

“This is only the beginning,” I said calmly. “What I have imparted is a complete principle. How far you walk upon it depends on your own insight. From flying needles and hidden stones to great mechanical puppets, even the entire Tang Family Fortress, in theory, can become a living being with unified ‘will.’”

For the next three days, I poured forth the entire heart of the ‘Divine Mechanism Codex,’ along with some transcendent forging arts from Penglai, imparting all I could.

Three days later, when I prepared to depart with Yi Yi, Tang Ao led all the Tang Clan’s senior members to the fortress gate to see us off.

“Master Jiang, your great kindness cannot be repaid in words.” Tang Ao bowed deeply to me once more. “Should you ever require it, the Tang Clan will go through fire and water at your command!”

I nodded, my gaze drifting toward the distant horizon, where the Demonic Sect’s activity was most rampant.

After leaving the Tang Family Fortress, I did not immediately set out to seek the Demonic Sect’s main stronghold.

During those three days teaching at the Tang Clan, I was not only imparting knowledge, but also sorting through my own understanding. I realized that articulating what I had learned and comprehended in a way ordinary people could grasp was itself a form of cultivation.

The experience of traveling with Yi Yi through Shu for over a year had also brought subtle changes to my state of mind.

Once, in a remote township, we witnessed a village that had been massacred by the Demonic Sect.

It was the first time in my decades in the secular world that I so viscerally felt what the Demonic Sect called “cultivation.” They had used the blood of over a hundred innocent villagers to forge an evil artifact. The village lay in ruins, bloodstains everywhere, the air thick with an unending miasma of resentment and despair.

Yi Yi stood at the village entrance, gazing at the tragic scene in silence for a long time.

She was no longer the child who needed to be constantly held in my arms, ignorant of the world. After over two millennia’s cultivation on the immortal island and decades of worldly travels, her mind was far more resilient and profound than her peers.

“Father,” she spoke softly, her voice cool and clear, “is this what you meant, that some cultivators, for the sake of power, abandon the very bottom line of what it means to be human?”

“Yes.” I looked at her, and from her eyes I saw compassion, but also a trace of chilling coldness.

“They are not worthy of being called ‘human,’ nor of being called ‘cultivators.’” She gave her own judgment.

I made no comment, only quietly used my Nascent Soul power to purify the lingering resentment.

We also passed through a city where disciples of the Demonic Sect, in order to seize a newly matured spirit herb, committed murder in broad daylight—slaughtering not only the entire ancient martial family guarding the herb, but also dozens of innocent bystanders.

A bustling street was turned into a hell on earth in an instant.

Those scenes were seared into my memory.

This was why, when I encountered the Demonic Sect in the Tang Clan, I had struck to kill without a moment’s hesitation. My first time taking life since entering the mundane world.

Having lived so many years, I understand that the world has its own ways of turning—where there is light, there will always be darkness. I once thought I could view all this with a transcendent detachment.

But when I witnessed such unrestrained evil with my own eyes, when I saw those scenes of blood and fire reflected in Yi Yi’s clear gaze, I realized I could not truly “ignore” it.

To pursue immortality is not to become indifferent.

To hold power is not to remain a bystander.

In the celestial halls of Penglai Island, I once swore to protect Yi Yi, to guard this hard-won peace. Yet the acts of the Demonic Sect were defiling the world, undermining the very foundation of tranquility.

If we allow them to persist, today it is strangers who suffer; tomorrow, it could be someone we once knew.

Therefore, I decided that as I searched for spirit stones, I would take the opportunity to root out this malignancy.

Not for the sake of all the people beneath heaven, nor for the cause of justice—

But simply so that my own Dao remains unsullied by dust. So that the daughter by my side may see a cleaner world.

Since entering the mortal world, for the first time, I harbored true intent to kill against a faction.