Yes, all the girls that had been by Xinzi’s side long enough to know his Creed of Liberation understood that he aimed to create a world of eternal bliss. But the definition of eternal bliss varied from one person to the next. In Xinzi’s case, no one could tell for sure what shape that ‘eternal bliss’ would take. And not many believed that it’d give men and women equal treatment.
Even Qingxing, closest to Xinzi’s inner thoughts, couldn’t picture his disciple’s vision of paradise. But unlike Tusha and Zi Feng, Qingxing knew how badly Xinzi despised grief. If there was one thing that he could remove, remove it on the spot and without consequences, it would be grief.
What purpose did it serve? What value did it add? Xinzi couldn’t find the use for grief, seeing in it a crucial part of the gearing that made human life a misery.
As a Lianist Monk, whenever acceptable, Xinzi had to consider free will. Yet, a part of him struggled to stifle the desire to snuff out all grief from those that his hands blessed—whether they wanted him to or not.
Since he started cultivating the Devil Root Refining Sutra, that part had been growing stronger. With the dark runes in his Klesha Heart flashing every time that Xinzi converted various lives into White-Winged Demons.
”But without grief, how can men value happiness?” Zi Feng chimed in, interrupting Xinzi’s thoughts.
”The notion that only sorrow enables men to value happiness is yet another man-made fallacy. Do you need to know pain to understand that you’re smiling?”
”No.”
”Need it to know that you’re laughing?”
”Still no.”
”So why would you need it to understand that you’re happy?”
”…” To Xinzi’s last question, Zi Feng didn’t know what to answer, and so shut her mouth, pondering on a counter. But before she’d come up with a strong rebuttal, Xinzi pressed on.
”I know what you’re thinking. Grief helps you fondly remember those that you’ve lost. Grief powers revenge and can drive growth—be it meliorative or destructive. Grief can do many things, but if the world wasn’t so twisted, why would you need to remember those that you’ve lost? Why would you need to experience loss? To experience events that make revenge necessary, or need to suffer to know that you have to grow?
No…wrong, it’s all wrong. This world is full of man-made fallacies. Don’t let them swindle you. Only I can swindle you,” Xinzi said and stroked Zi Feng’s purple hair.
”The world is full of incomprehensible concepts. It is so large, with limitless reach and infinite expansion. Yet it can’t accommodate…peace? I want to sit with the creator of all realms, to have a chat with the Primordial Source and ask it why the world is the way it is. Or is the Primordial Source even the culprit? Is it Heaven? Hell? The Pure Lands? Who can give me the answer? I don’t know, but what I do know for sure…is that grief is unfortunate. In my world, I do not want that word,” Xinzi said and closed his eyes, entering a Lianist trance.
Golden rays shot out of his pores, illuminating his body as a lotus bloomed underneath him, lifting him up in the air. In that instant, Xinzi got enlightened in the Word of Grief. Though not a part of his Creed of Liberation, if Xinzi ever reached the threshold of perfection, then this Word of Grief would become the catalyst for his breakthrough.
”Master, congratulations on your breakthrough!”
”Abbot, congratulations on your breakthrough!” Zi Feng and Tusha clasped their hands and bowed at Xinzi.
”Dispense of ceremony. We’re not in the Liberation Temple, holding a session for people we’re trying to hoodwink. In private, no need to be that courteous,” Xinzi said, dismissing the gesture with a wave of his hand.
Nun and disciple straightened their back, yet both struggled to let go of decorum.
”Whatever makes you more comfortable.” Xinzi rolled his eyes and stepped into the air, ambling across the wind on his way back to the Celestial Farm.
There, a rattled Tieshan looked left and right, her mid-stage Dao Revelation Spiritual Sense spread out as she attempted to locate Xinzi.
”Hateful! What is he taking me for? Does he think he can just dump his load and vanish?”
”I don’t think, I know. But I’m a monk of culture, so I’m not going to do that—just had more important matters to deal with,” Xinzi said as he waltzed back into the throne room, and landed right before the throne. Here he paused, taking a second to observe the seat.
Meanwhile, Tieshan fumed at his words, restraining the urge to summon her battle-ax.
”Mhm…I guess your juice had enough time to dry up. Good. I’m not a fan of moist seats,” Xinzi said and took his seat. His words added to Tieshan’s rage, but though her cultivation base and overall constitution had improved massively, she still didn’t dare to raise weapons before Xinzi.
Pulling in a deep breath, the Cow Demoness quieted her inner turmoil, and with renewed determination, faced our monk.
”We have to discuss the future logistics of the Celestial Farm,” Xinzi kicked things off.
”I know, but first, I need to clarify something. I’m not cowardly enough to say that this was a mistake. But you shouldn’t be mistaken either. I wanted to use you to punish Niu Yan and free myself from the Heart-Wrenching Demon Noble. And while I prefer a partnership with you, I’d rather spend a lifetime alone than become one of your harem members,” Tieshan said, following the exact words that Xinzi had predicted.
”Fine by me.”
”What?”
”I’m not in the mood to mess around. If you want to come, you come. If you don’t, you don’t. I have no shortage of beauties and am not as greedy as people think. If being the only one is that important to you, then there is nothing I can do about it. But since we both know that you will be back for more, I’m afraid we won’t be able to keep this partnership strictly to business,” Xinzi said, and as his mug settled in a blank look, Tieshan’s face twisted at the words.
The confidence that she would be back was frustrating enough, but the lack of urgency, of interest in Xinzi’s words, made one thing abundantly clear: he wasn’t afraid to lose her.