Chapter 322: Preaching, Teaching, and Resolving Doubts

August 14th.

Inside the Forbidden Land.

Compared to the first day, the Divine Power had become very thin; in contrast, the Buddha Light in the depths of the Forbidden Land was growing increasingly dense.

The Nüxia of the Moonlit Night looked up at the direction of the sunset, then stepped forward toward the depths of the Forbidden Land.

It seems the Bodhisattva of Tribulation is even stronger than everyone anticipated; he defeated all the Ninth Stage Resurrected Ones and passed the trials earlier than expected, which caused his time for merging with the origin to shorten as well; the Forbidden Land might close ahead of schedule.

Ten minutes later, somewhere in the Forbidden Land.

The Nüxia of the Moonlit Night, dressed in a tight-fitting suit and wearing a Metal Mask, stood before a middle-aged man holding a Sword, her tone calm:

"Senior, we meet again."

"You still dare to return? Seeking death?"

"I have come precisely to experience the feeling of death." The voice of the Nüxia of the Moonlit Night came from beneath the mask, slightly distorted.

"Very well, then I shall grant your wish! This time I won't let you run away!" The middle-aged man holding the Sword narrowed his eyes, "But before I kill you, I allow you to leave behind your sect and your name, so I can use it to brag in my next life!"

"Wangting, Wu Eiwei."

"What is Wangting? What kind of trash name is that?"

"It is currently the year 5023. A thousand years ago, the Sword Sect split into two; one part became Wangting, and one part became the Clowns."

"Does your cultivation originate from the Sword Sect?"

"It was born from the Sword Sect."

"Haha, you're killing me, kid. Someone like you, and you claim to be Sword Sect... You're nothing but a trash Martial Cultivator..."

The Nüxia of the Moonlit Night stood calmly in place, her figure tall and straight. To be honest, among the Resurrected Ones she had encountered, most had somewhat chaotic sanity; the sanity of the Resurrected Ones from the Sword Sect was the only kind that had not been affected at all.

Just like this person before her—

He was not interested in the split of the Sword Sect, nor was he interested in the other part, the "Clowns"; the only thing he was interested in was mocking the person standing before him.

What did this indicate? It indicated that he was the same as he had been in life.

Dead for a thousand years, yet never forgetting his original intent.

This point was truly worthy of respect.

The Nüxia of the Moonlit Night said nothing, only slowly drawing the Long Sword in her hand, pointing it at the Seventh Stage Sword Cultivator ahead.

The Sword Cultivator's eyes narrowed slightly, and his Spirit Sword left its sheath.

"Whoosh..."

Suddenly, there was a sky full of Sword Light before her eyes, blotting out the sun.

Through the Metal Mask, the world before the eyes of the Nüxia of the Moonlit Night was not the same as the world in the eyes of a normal person; she could see more colors and changes, could see the subtle shifts in Spirit Power and air currents, could see more details, and could amplify her perception.

When she gripped the Long Sword tightly, the world suddenly slowed down.

Those countless rays of Sword Light flew toward her, appearing dense and impenetrable, yet in her eyes, she quickly found the flaws.

Zhang Suannai had transformed her Ruyi Armor into a form-fitting black light armor, which she had designed herself; it outlined her graceful figure, and although her chest was not full, she had a pair of proud, long legs, and her slender waist tapered inward, revealing beautiful curves.

She had also found a Wangting Sword Cultivator she had encountered before.

At this moment, one side stood on the ground, looking up, while the other sat on a treetop, playing a bamboo flute.

The sound of the flute was meaningful and long, then suddenly stopped.

"Since you have already escaped, why come back?"

"To have a fight with you."

"Seeking death?"

"This grandma here isn't that stupid; the one who will definitely die is you."

"Hah!"

"Clang!"

The Divine Sword left its sheath.

On one side, a rain of swords filled the sky; on the other, one held a Sword and charged upward.

The evening of August 14th, Ling'an Academy.

This year's Mid-Autumn Gala was related to the school anniversary; Ling'an Academy was founded on August 14th, and because it was close to the Mid-Autumn Festival, the school always held the school anniversary and the Mid-Autumn Gala together; it could save some money, save the students some energy, and if the statutory holidays fell on the 15th, 16th, and 17th, they could also avoid giving an extra day off.

This year happened to be the 660th anniversary of the founding of Ling'an Academy, and the school had invited many celebrities and art workers.

If you wanted to chase stars, you could find idol celebrities; if you didn't want to chase stars, there were still many famous old artists, singers, dancers, and musicians.

Among them, many were graduates of Ling'an Academy, counting as everyone's seniors.

The school was very happy to invite such students who worked in the arts after graduation back to their alma mater to perform, because it was cheap, and some didn't even want money at all.

In short, this was an artistic feast, with all kinds of art forms—young, nostalgic, current trends, traditional retro, everything one could wish for.

The old gentleman Ouyuan Gong leaned on his Wooden Staff, using the support of the staff to walk slowly toward the Teaching Building.

Along the way, many students were walking toward the Sports Field.

Passing several Teaching Buildings, they were all empty inside.

The old gentleman turned his head repeatedly, feeling somewhat curious.

If he remembered correctly, today was indeed August 14th, and he still had one evening self-study session; the holiday only started tomorrow, and the Mid-Autumn Gala and the 660th-anniversary celebration would also only begin tomorrow night; why was there no one in class tonight?

"Student."

The old gentleman leaned on his cane, stopped his steps, and looked at a few students with a smile: "Where are you all... going? Why is no one in class?"

"Hello, teacher."

The few students immediately stopped their steps.

A sturdy, dark-skinned male student replied: "The gala is tomorrow, but the school anniversary is today, so many celebrities have come. Some are alumni, and they are taking the lead in performing at Martial Cultivation Hall No. 1 tonight, and many other celebrities have responded as well..."

"You can even request songs."

"You can also interact."

"It's estimated to be even more exciting than tomorrow night."

"This afternoon, the school also issued a notice saying that everyone who doesn't have class can go watch. I heard there are security guards at the entrance checking student IDs, and only students from our school with student IDs can get in. But then our teacher also immediately issued a notice; we were supposed to have self-study tonight, but the teacher said we don't have to attend. I guess he also wants to go watch the performance and doesn't want to teach."

A female student immediately corrected him: "It's that almost all teachers issued notices. The classmates I know who had self-study didn't have to go..."

The few of them answered, one after another.

"What time does it start?"

"Seven-thirty."

"Thank you all, I wish you all a happy time watching..."

The old gentleman nodded with a smile, and after sending the few students off, he stood in place for a moment, thinking, before continuing toward the Teaching Building.

Slowly and leisurely.

When he reached the classroom, class had not yet started.

Scattered inside the classroom sat about a dozen students.

The other students must have seen that all the teachers had issued notices canceling evening self-study, so they assumed the whole school was canceling it and went to watch the performance. Or, even if they skipped class for the sake of the performance, that was fine too.

The old gentleman was not familiar with which celebrity artists the school had invited this year; his information had been a bit closed off lately. However, he had attended the Mid-Autumn and school anniversary galas ten, twenty, thirty, and even over a hundred years ago, and those music and dance performances were very much worth appreciating.

"Ding-a-ling..."

The class bell rang just at that moment.

The old gentleman put down his books, one hand leaning on his Wooden Staff, the other supporting the lectern, but he first bowed to the dozen or so students below:

"I am very sorry. I heard that tonight there are many art workers holding a performance at the Martial Cultivation Hall, with music, dance, and opera; it is even more relaxed than the official gala tomorrow night. All the teachers in the school gave the students time off to go watch the performance. I am old and did not know about this; I only found out on the way here just now. I have troubled you all to make a trip here."

"If I had known earlier, I would have given you all time off as well."

"However, I am very gratified that some people still came to class."

"I am also gratified that some people went to appreciate art."

The old gentleman raised his head and scanned the students below. As expected, they were the dozen or so who listened most attentively in class every day, so he said: "On the way here, I thought that since everyone has come, perhaps I should give you a lecture. But to lecture would not be right; so many classmates didn't come, and if I continue to lecture, they will miss a lesson. So I originally intended to ask for your opinions. If you wished to listen to a lecture here, I would give a different kind of lesson—something you wouldn't normally hear, something perhaps a bit absurd—but seeing you all, I suddenly changed my mind."

The old gentleman raised his hand to check his watch, then turned around and wrote a few large characters on the blackboard—

"Cultivation and Life"

The old gentleman turned back and looked at these dozen or so people.

These dozen people who left the deepest impression on him.

"From the age of five, everyone learns. But most people learn because everyone else is learning, because their parents told them from a young age that they should learn, and because everyone in the world is learning, so they follow along. Yet, at the time, they didn't necessarily know why they had to learn. Perhaps it is not until a long time later that they can truly realize the value of knowledge."

"Cultivation is the same."

"For those of you here, I presume it is otherwise; you surely know the reason for your learning and cultivation."

The old gentleman looked around the classroom, and seeing everyone with their heads raised, he met their gazes one by one: "So, what are your views on cultivation? Where lies the meaning of your cultivation and learning? Why are you so diligent? Can someone satisfy this old man's curiosity? While we have this time, would anyone like to chat casually with this old man?"

Everyone looked at each other, silent.

A moment later, people answered one after another.

Someone said their family was poor and their livelihood difficult, and there was no other path to take besides learning.

Someone said their parents' expectations were too high, and they had an excellent older sister; everyone's gaze was like a mountain pressing down on them, pushing them forward, and no one truly cared about their own thoughts, so they had to struggle forward.

Someone was naturally reclusive and took books as friends.

Someone was obsessed with the universe, devoting their whole heart to observing the universe, and was indifferent to the world they lived in.

Finally, only a girl with a Heavenly Human Bloodline remained.

Everyone couldn't help but look at her.

Ning Qing pursed her lips, her expression as calm as ever, and only said: "Most things in the human world are very boring."

The old gentleman made no comment on any of it.

With his hand resting on the lectern, he looked at everyone, and after a long while, he let out a long sigh.

"My students, you must know that cultivation and learning are only methods, a path; they are not the goal, not the end, and not the meaning of life." The old gentleman looked at a few of the problem students one by one and said, "Their meaning lies in helping us achieve our goals. This is the same as work; endless, pure pursuit of cultivation and learning is meaningless."

"At my age..."

The old gentleman's expression softened: "I am already near death. What is most worth missing is not the glorious achievements I have attained, nor how many books I have written or how much praise I have received. On the contrary, what I often think of recently is the wind that blew on the street corner when I was young and the smiles of the girls beside me. I am very happy to see that you all have your own pursuits, but life is long, the world is vast and rich and colorful; beyond your pursuits, you should also have lives of your own."

"What kind of life is called a life?"

A student below asked.

"It can be magnificent, or it can be calm and peaceful; you can build high towers, or you can lean on a small bridge to watch the scenery—all of these are called life." The old gentleman looked at this group of youths in their prime and smiled, "Essentially, these lives do not differ in quality based on whether they are exciting or not; the only difference is whether this kind of life is what you want."

The classroom fell silent for a moment.

The old gentleman checked his watch again; it was almost 7:20, so he said to everyone: "We won't have class today either. I will give you all an assignment—"

"Put down your books, go to the Martial Cultivation Hall, go watch the performance, go listen to the music, go appreciate art, and go see the world outside of cultivation and learning. You can call your friends, or try calling your roommates or classmates. If you like solitude and enjoy being alone, you can also go by yourself. If you go to the Martial Cultivation Hall and find you really don't like it, then take a walk around campus; the campus should be very quiet at this time."

"..."

The students stood up in silence.

Ning Qing also stood up in silence, picked up her books, and walked out.

But just at this moment—

Her Mobile Phone vibrated.

Immediately, the sound of footsteps came from the stairwell.

Ning Qing stopped, stood straight while holding her books, and instead of looking at her phone, she tilted her head slightly and stared ahead.

A figure gradually appeared in her line of sight.

That person saw her and also stopped in their tracks.

Their eyes met.

That person smiled at her, and that was the meaning of the world.