hotmtlnovel Chapter 379 The Tribulation of the Formless Heart Demon - Refining the Dao in the Mortal World
Chapter 379 The Tribulation of the Formless Heart Demon - Refining the Dao in the Mortal World
Lin Yan felt his "consciousness" suddenly lighten, as if it were being gently pulled away from his riddled body and then falling into a deep vortex.
Lin Shitou was born in a remote mountain village in the north, and his family was among the poorest in the village.
My father was a taciturn stonemason, and my mother was frail and sickly. My memories begin with the coldness of the mud-brick house, the thin corn porridge, and the coarse cloth clothes I always wore, patched and never cleaned of dust.
There were no toys; the only "entertainment" was gazing at the endless barren mountains and the crooked old tree at the entrance of the village.
A vague longing for the "vastness" and "difference" of the outside world quietly sprouted in the deepest part of his heart, like wild grass.
He was of "average" ability and went to school, where his grades were mediocre.
He longed for the world beyond the mountains depicted in books, but the burden of his family made him realize early on that studying might be the only, yet fragile, way out.
He studied desperately, burning the midnight oil, but during the high school entrance exam, a sudden high fever caused him to underperform and miss out on the best high school in the county.
The father smoked his pipe all night, and the next day, with red eyes, he said, "Shitou, go to a vocational school. Get out of school as soon as possible and help support the family."
At that moment, he clearly felt for the first time an invisible "frame"—it was fate, and it was reality. He wanted to argue, but looking at his father's hunched back and his mother's sorrowful face, the words of argument stuck in his throat, turning into a silent nod.
After graduating from vocational school, he became an apprentice at an old machinery factory in the county. His days were monotonous and arduous, following a set routine.
His master was harsh, his colleagues were calculating, his salary was meager, and he was forced to do repetitive manual labor. He was once scorned by the workshop director for making a small suggestion to improve the process, and was even secretly transferred to the dirtiest and most tiring job to "toughen up his character."
After a year of hard work, when it came time to be evaluated for outstanding performance, the spot was taken by someone with connections who frequently gave gifts to the director. He clenched his calloused and greasy fists, his anger burning inside, but when he thought of his sister who was waiting for his salary to pay her tuition, and the roof at home that needed to be renovated, his fists slowly relaxed.
He didn't cause any trouble. Instead, after get off work, he squatted alone by the waste pile behind the factory, watching the sunset, and remained silent for a long time.
Through an introduction, he got married. His wife was a privately hired teacher at the town's primary school, and at first she thought he was honest and hardworking.
But as time went on, the struggles of daily life and the uncertain future led to more and more complaints. "Look at so-and-so..." "I'm so unlucky to be living with you..." "I was so blind back then!" These words were like dull knives, slowly cutting into his self-esteem as a man.
He tried working harder, taking on freelance work, and staying up all night repairing machines, but his income could never keep up with his expenses and ever-growing desires. His wife's eyes went from expectation to disappointment, and finally to habitual indifference and disdain.
He felt exhausted, deeply exhausted. Sometimes, when he came home from work, he just wanted to collapse into bed and not care about anything. But when he saw the food left for him on the stove, even if it was cold, and his daughter's innocent face as she slept, he would still get up, check her homework, and plan for next month's expenses.
As times changed, the factory's profits declined and it eventually went bankrupt.
He was laid off.
Mid-life unemployment feels like the sky has fallen. I took odd jobs everywhere, carrying bricks, delivering coal, guarding warehouses… I did all sorts of dirty and strenuous work.
Their daughter was about to start high school, and the tuition was like a mountain. After a heated argument, the wife finally took their daughter and went back to her parents' home, implying that "if we can't make it work, we'll get a divorce."
Lin Shitou had no choice but to take his luggage to the provincial capital to see if he could find a way to make a living.
It was a snowy night. He was lying alone on the bed in his cold rented room, covered with a thin blanket, his stomach aching from long-term irregular eating habits.
Despair overwhelmed him like a tidal wave. Give up...it's too tiring...just let it be...a voice tempted him from the depths of his heart.
Night had fallen, and all was quiet.
Suppressed sobs came from the other side of the thin wall. It was the young college student next door who always kept his head down and hurried in and out; he was supposedly preparing for his postgraduate entrance exam.
Lin Shitou thought numbly, "It's probably because of too much pressure again. In this world, who has it easy?" He turned over and pulled the blanket over his head.
After an unknown amount of time, the sobbing stopped.
Immediately afterwards, there was a rustling sound, followed by a muffled thud as a stool was kicked over!
Lin Shitou shuddered; his intuition, honed by years of life at the bottom of society, made him sit up abruptly.
That sound…something’s wrong! Almost instinctively, he jumped out of bed, not even bothering to put on his shoes, and rushed to the wall, pounding on the partition: “Hey! Neighbor! Young man! Are you alright?!”
A dead silence.
There was only a very faint, grating sound, as if something was slowly tightening.
Lin Shitou's heart clenched suddenly! A terrifying image flashed through his mind! He couldn't care less about anything else, turned around and rushed out of his room, kicking the flimsy door next door with all his might!
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The bolt groaned under the strain and finally snapped!
The moment the door burst open, the scene before him in the dim light nearly froze Lin Shitou's blood—
The thin young man had a rough rope made from a torn bed sheet around his neck, the other end of which was hanging from an exposed old pipe on the roof. At his feet was an overturned stool, his body was still twitching slightly unconsciously, his face was beginning to turn blue, his eyes were half open, and his pupils were already somewhat dilated. He was staring straight at Lin Shitou, who had broken down the door. In his eyes was utter despair and a hint of bewilderment before liberation.
A life was lost right before our eyes!
"Damn it!" Lin Shitou cursed, all his self-pity shattered at that moment by his instinct to save a "life"!
He rushed over like a madman, grabbed the young man's legs and lifted him up, but Buso pulled too tight, and the young man had already lost consciousness and his body felt heavy.
Looking around, the cramped rented room contained nothing but books and junk; there wasn't even a decent knife! In desperation, he spotted a half-piece of broken glass in the corner, its purpose unknown!
He grabbed the piece of glass and, disregarding the danger of cutting his hand, sawed at the taut cloth with all his might!
The rough fabric fibers, mixed with cheap dye, cut his palms raw, and glass shards embedded themselves in his flesh. He felt no pain; only one thought occupied his mind: Quick! Break it off!
"Sizzle—!"
Buso finally broke! The two men fell to the ground together. The young man lay on top of him, making strange hoarse noises in his throat and beginning to cough violently, his face gradually regaining some color.
Lin Shitou collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. He looked at his bloodied and trembling hands, then at the young man on the ground who slowly regained his breathing, his eyes refocusing and revealing immense fear and lingering terror before collapsing into tears.
On the young man's desk lay letters from home, a stack of hospital bills, and a hastily written suicide note filled with self-blame and despair.
He didn't ask why. In this world, what else could drive a poor student to this point?
He silently got up, walked over to his side, and amidst the young man's cries, pulled out the old handkerchief bag, stained with his blood, hidden at the bottom of the shoebox.
Inside was his last 321.8 yuan—his food money for next week, half a month's rent arrears, and maybe enough to buy his daughter the exercise book she'd been asking for.
He walked back and gently placed the blood-stained handkerchief bundle in the young man's hand.
The money is not much, and may even be a drop in the bucket.
"Take it, but people need to stay alive first. Only when they're alive can we talk about anything else."
The young man was stunned. He looked at the bag of crumpled change soaked in blood, then looked up at the middle-aged man in front of him, whose eyes were sunken, whose hands were covered in blood and flesh, and who looked even more weathered and tired than his own father. Tears welled up in his eyes again.
Lin Shitou didn't say anything more. He turned around, slowly walked back to his cold room, and closed the door.
The excruciating pain in his hands only became clear then, blood dripping onto the floor. His stomach churned from tension and weakness. What to do next week? He didn't know.
But strangely enough, the huge rock that had weighed on his heart for half his life and almost suffocated him seemed to have been pried open.
A faint ray of light shone in.
It was something more fundamental—in the deepest mire where he himself was struggling to survive, he followed his instincts and reached out to pull a falling person back. He didn't stand by and watch someone die. For that, it seemed that the cold of tonight and the uncertainty of tomorrow could be temporarily endured.
Suddenly, the entire world of "Lin Shitou" was like a shattered mirror, suddenly covered with cracks!
All the feelings, choices, silent perseverance, and the instinctive outbursts accumulated from this long and real "life" of poverty, injustice, contempt, burdens, and persistence transformed into beams of light that soared into the sky from the shattered illusionary world and surged wildly toward the humanistic phantom deep within his consciousness!
"I am... Lin Shitou?"
"No…"
"I am... Lin Yan?"
Illusory memories and real memories begin to clash and merge wildly!
"Why did I go through all this?"
The answer burst forth in the process of fusion!
For the experience!
The experience is not about the "common people" from the perspective of the chosen ones, but about the common people themselves, in the most extreme situations, their real breathing, weight, coldness, and... the most basic glimmer of life that still bursts forth in the most desperate circumstances.
To verify!
To prove his "Tao," stripped of his extraordinary power and the dazzling cloak of being a chosen one of heaven, can he still uphold the Tao he desires and does when he himself is mired in the mire?
"The way of freedom is not about looking down from a high place, but about plunging into the mire while keeping your heart soaring to the heavens! Your body may be confined to a small space, but your spirit can roam the vast universe! My freedom lies in not forgetting the thoughts beyond the mountains even in my distress!"
"The path to truth is not merely about seeking the ultimate principles of heaven and earth, but also about seeking the 'true self' with a clear conscience! In this illusory life, at the final moment, I followed the instinctive compassion and salvation of life for life, and could face my true self in both adversity and enlightenment—this is the ultimate truth!"
"My path...is found in the highest halls of power, in the farthest corners of the martial world, beneath the thunder of the heavens, and also in the mundane world, in the dust of life and death! The vast mortal realm, the joys and sorrows of life and death, are all my arenas; the myriad forms of humanity, the glimmer of life, are all imprints of my heart!"
"boom--!!!"
His sea of consciousness trembled violently! Unprecedented! After devouring this complete "mortal world experience," that humanoid phantom underwent a fundamental transformation!
It solidified completely, as if it had real flesh and blood and warmth!
The illusory image of humanity advances to the mortal body!
Break through the inner demon tribulation!
Lin Yan's consciousness returned to his body, and his eyes suddenly opened.
In his eyes, the left eye seemed to hold the birth and death of thunder and the chaos of the universe, reflecting the sharpness and vastness of the cultivator Lin Yan; while the right eye was filled with the joys and sorrows of the world and the vicissitudes of life, reflecting the divine light that Lin Shitou burst forth from the dust and desolation.
The two are in harmony and unity.
Lin Yan broke out in a cold sweat; what a vicious inner demon tribulation!
He sealed away his memories, letting him live a muddled and confused life. If Lin Shitou never had any principles in his life, he would sink into the torment of inner demons and die.
The clouds of calamity dispersed, and the night sky was clear and bright.
Where the sea meets the sky, the bountiful rain of creation and the spiritual energy of heaven and earth pour down upon him like a reversed Milky Way!
Nascent Soul, right now!
In the distance, Xiao Qi seemed to sense something, looked at Lin Yan and let out a soft "woof", its tail wagging involuntarily.
Xie Qingci and the others were even more shocked. Although they did not understand the specifics, they could clearly feel that the Dao aura emanating from the young master after successfully transcending the tribulation was completely different from any Nascent Soul cultivator recorded in ancient books.