Outside Of Time

1601  Birth of the Eight Extremities Dao (1)

In the void, his body became a boat, and the soul its passenger, sailing upstream against the current.

This path stretched long and endless.

Looking back upon his past lives: official, merchant, bandit, physician, commoner, youth…

They seemed like ordinary experiences, mere cycles of reincarnation, fragments of life.

But that was only because he had been within them, unable to see through the fog.

Now, awakened, and looking back, it was clear.

They were the Five Elements.

The life of Xu Jinfeng, once a grand chancellor, though a civil official, upheld the dynasty with thunderous methods, bearing in his heart legions of soldiers, banners of war. His life embodied metal.

Wealth was metal, power was metal, warfare was metal—his very fate was forged in metal.

Xu Hong, who dreamt of becoming a great merchant, spent his life generous and kind. He once amassed great wealth, yet also wandered and struggled, only to be drained by the cruelties of fate. His life embodied water.

Wealth flowed like water, with extremes of drought and flood, and his fate, too, was governed by water.

The bandit Xu Shan, whose mountain was not of earth but symbolized wood, had a life adrift like duckweed. As a child, he was like decayed wood, and as an adult, he became a bandit, blending into the mountain forests—a decayed wood fate.

Lacking wisdom and prone to anger, he was easily swayed by external forces. He preferred to die standing rather than live kneeling in humiliation.

Xu Yu, the physician, carried the heart of a compassionate doctor. He wished to be the furnace of heaven and earth, refining the medicinal herbs of life. His being and his fate burned like fire.

He was like the Vermillion Bird's heart flame, protecting life with its brilliance.

Yet in this life, fire and wind consumed his heart, extinguishing it until his death, when it was rekindled, and fire returned to wind.

Xu Kun, the commoner, led a simple, unremarkable life. Honest and taciturn, he toiled under the sun, enduring the heat without complaint, but lamented the long summer days.

With the sky above his head and his feet touching the soil, he extended the time of the future, accumulating the fate of earth.

As for the youth and the fragmented soul of the cultivator, they were one and the same.

He was entrusted with a legacy, like a long thread.

He began with the fire of the physician, passed through the earth of the commoner, and finally encountered his true self.

He transcended the bounds of time. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

This was the fate of time.

"The only thing missing is space…"

Xu Qing mumbled.

"The reason it's like this is because this path isn't perfect yet."

Reincarnation was in front, and the origin was behind. Hence, he observed as he walked.

He would no longer sink.

Just like a passerby, seeing the myriad changes in life.

The Dao he saw was formless, so there were men and women, old and young, shrines, and martial arts worlds.

Scenes appeared before his eyes.

Time continued to pass.

As he walked and watched on this path, Xu Qing finally stopped in his tracks.

What he saw and what his mind focused on was his self in the reincarnation cycle, transformed into… a performer.

…

The life of a performer, full of countless roles.

Day before yesterday, the clang of gongs and drums echoed through the air, as painted faces took the stage with flowing sleeves.

Today, banners unfurled, the winds blew from all directions, determining the fates of characters—loyalty and betrayal, good and evil.

The same face, with different paints, transformed into either man or woman, became the embodiment of lives within the threads of time.

There was joy in playing out life's stories, and little regret in enacting death.

Truly, life was but a play, and the myriad affairs of the world were all sung and spoken upon this stage.

Yet, who could know what kind of true heart lay beneath the layers of painted faces?

And if, over time, the line between the real and the imagined began to blur?

Only at the final curtain, when the audience dispersed and the paint was wiped away, did the performer step out, their thoughts tinged with melancholy. Reflecting on the joy and sorrow of past and future roles, they realized that life was but a fleeting dream, a stream of time that quietly faded away, leaving no trace behind.　  　   　　　 　　  　　 

Finally, a sigh echoed.

"In this world, sorrow and joy play many roles; one must not say that those who fall are forlorn…"

"They can't be distinguished…"

 Indeed, joyful songs were often viewed through drunken eyes, with time passing in a haze.

Every fragment of memory became like ripples, and upon waking from the great dream, it had turned out to be a fleeting encounter with plum blossoms, spanning a thousand or ten thousand years.

Thus, the play ran from prologue to curtain.

That life went from life to death.

 And that dream, from deep slumber to awakening.

Xu Qing woke up.

In the void, he muttered softly.

"How can this be called a play? This is life within time…"

 "And just as people experience birth and death, so too does a play have a beginning and an end. The difference between life and death is akin to the difference between dreams and waking, full of endless transformations and impossible to pin down."

"Then, having crossed the cycle of reincarnation and walked out of life, what awaits me at the end of this scroll, after waking from the dream?"

The answer was already there.

This stood because he had walked all the way up to the end of the reincarnation scroll and finally saw the origin of the scroll.

It was also the Dao foundation that supported the reincarnation cycle of the scroll.

It was originally a painting.

What Li Mengtu opened was only a sliver, but right now, Xu Qing saw the full appearance of this painting.

It stood a crystal.

Falling into the chaos, it appeared in the boundless void, radiating an incredibly brilliant light, and then shattered into ten irregular pieces.

They were scattered everywhere.

Then, the Profound Earth appeared.

This was the painting of the formation of Profound Earth, the same scene that Xu Qing had viewed on the meteorite, depicted through the gaze of the Immortal Ancestor when he comprehended the Eight Extremities Dao.

Creation of Heaven and Earth.

Moreover, it stood even clearer!

"I didn't expect this scene to be painted on this scroll."

Xu Qing mumbled.

"That's a purple crystal."

It stood exactly the same as his one.

Hence, Xu Qing fell silent.

At that moment, he could sense a way to leave.

He had passed the reincarnation cycle of the painting and reached the end.

Now, he only needed to take a step forward to leave the painting.

However, his gaze swept across the ten shattered crystals.

After a long time, his eyes revealed an intense sharpness.

"Being sealed within this scroll, it's both danger as well as good fortune!"

"The Dao of my immortal body originated from the ten shattered crystals. Now that I'm seeing it again, and with even greater clarity than before, I can… reaffirm my Dao!"

With this thought, Xu Qing did not hesitate. He sat down cross-legged, and his divine consciousness, along with his very soul, suddenly dispersed, like a shooting star, directly heading toward those ten shattered crystal fragments.

At the next instant, the cycle of reincarnation began again.

However, this time, he stood no longer a human.

…

I'm a meteor falling from the sky.

Landing upon a star named Heavenly Mandate.