Chapter 7

Who was he?

Before, Li Zhixing would have answered with confidence.

He was a son, a brother, and a ‘cool’ uncle.

He was a carefree friend, who could at times be incredibly insensitive.

He was an internationalist who remained staunchly patriotic and, more importantly, duty-bound.

He was someone who masked his doubts with exaggerated pride.

And so, so much more.

All of these had been heartlessly stripped away from him. Now, he had no family, no friends, and no homeland to speak of.

He had never felt so… utterly naked.

Like most people, his identity was built upon things, people, and personal history. None of that was present now. He had no friends to turn to, nor any accomplishments to hide behind. Even his body, flawed and imperfect it might have been, was now far outside his grasp. What was he to do to define himself?

He could just pretend that the hallmarks of his identity, be it people or accomplishments, still existed back on Earth. He could delude himself into believing that return was possible and that once he came back, everything would be fine.

However, as a person, Li Zhixing never let unrealistic expectations dictate his thoughts and actions. Call him cynical, but his old life was gone forever. No amount of dreaming was going to change that.

As an alternative, he could “look into himself” and “search his soul”. However, all he could see were weathered Qi vessels and a tattered core of molten bronze. These were the manifestation of another man’s way of life, while also signifying the gap between himself and his new borrowed identity.

The original Li Zhixing was a cruel man, certainly; yet he was also someone he could begrudgingly respect.

Such respect only made things worse.

He was not filling empty shoes; that would have been ideal. Rather, he was struggling to fit inside another man’s skin.

It was humiliating and dehumanizing.

Li Zhixing’s slightly inflated ego had been one constant in his life – better be falsely arrogant than be publicly insecure. However, it was built on the various accomplishments of his life, no matter how big or small. Now, all he possessed were achievements that were not his own, built by the blood-soaked hands of a dead man.

If he wanted to live, he would have to limp along the original’s Path, to finish the journey somebody else had begun. This was his only viable option, at least for the foreseeable future. The time limitations were the primary reason, he told himself.

However, the most important reason was straightforward.

Finding a new Path was much easier said than done.

From the very start, he had pointedly ignored this entire issue. Leave it for some other time. It would do nothing good to open the wounds, flailing around for answers when there were more pressing issues.

And naturally, he had been correct. Here he was, beating himself up when the situation did not allow it. When-

Li Zhixing stopped walking. He took off his shoes, letting his bare feet touch the stairs. Feel the stone beneath his feet, perfectly smooth and chillingly cold. Feel the evening breeze graze his skin, more refreshing than a cold bath. Feel the air flood his lungs, before it rushed out to return to mother Nature.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Focus on the present, on what is happening. Avoid assigning unnecessary meaning to all things, to look for implications at every passing second of the day.

Instead, see the world for what it was. Focus on the sensations that greeted him, rather than his ever-intrusive thoughts.

Breathe in – the breath is coming in.

Breathe out – the breath is coming out.

Nothing more, nothing less. No need to think about how the air was entirely different, how his bodily functions had changed. Avoid thinking about the implications of such matters.

In. Out. In. Out.

Look at the beauty the world had to offer: ancient trees taller than hills and beasts longer than a river. From his current position, up this flight of stairs, Li Zhixing could perceive so many different things. Importantly, this was just the tip of the iceberg, one confined space out of a realm larger than Earth, which itself was only part of a larger ecosystem of sprawling realms.

This world – possibly this universe - was not his own. That did not stop him from appreciating the stunning sights it had.

In. Out. In. Out.

Focus on the sights, on what he could actually see with his two eyes. Be aware of how his eyes moved, and just how clear everything was to him.

Take in all the minute details, how that deer’s jaws moved as it swallowed those pearly-white peaches; how that monkey swam through the air like a fish in a current, his four arms moving in complete synchrony; how the herd of black horses ran straight up a cliff, their hooves leaving shallow imprints on hard stone.

One pleasant surprise was the lack of humans, more specifically, the photograph-taking, banana-pants-wearing variant. The people were so accustomed to the miracles around them that they could not care less, that they would just push these strange creatures into the corner and ignore their presence. He assumed that they adopt the same nonchalant attitude towards other awe-inspiring things, having accepted these as natural facts of life.

That being the case, he did not have the ground to criticise them either. After all, much of the same could be applied to himself. Like so many others, Li Zhixing saw modern life as basic and unassuming, having only a passing interest in the gifts of science.

Had the situation been reversed, with him entering Earth from this cultivation world, he would likely have been just as shocked. Just as amazed at the-

He was getting too distracted for his comfort.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

For what seemed like an eternity, that was all he did. Breathed and observed. He did his best at ignoring all the thoughts rampaging through his addled mind. He was not entirely successful, but that was never the main goal. He had wanted to calm himself down and finally focus. Properly this time.

In that, he mostly succeeded.

Li Zhixing did not realize how much he needed a calm walk. Walking was something of a habit for him, something that would allow him to gather his thoughts after a hectic day. Most of the time, the journey was from home to work and back – he had made a point of not using a car unless strictly necessary. At times, he would bring along ear plugs, to reduce all the incoming noise and distraction. A bit dangerous, what with the traffic, but he liked to think he had good enough vision to make up for it.

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However, from the moment he had transmigrated till just before now, he had not really taken the time to calm himself down. He had believed “Time was of the essence, not to be wasted”. Considering that his date of death was drawing ever so closer, the sentiment was very much correct. But if he did not take the time to collect himself, he would not function well. So, time would basically be “wasted”.

He really had to thank Long Yonglin the next time he met. For all his longwinded speeches and tendency to add unnecessary moral lessons, his knowledge and advice were often sound. To him, at least. Guess all those years being alive in a tumultuous world did have its benefits, even if the old man appeared childish at times.

To be able to retain the wilfulness of a child and still live well. Was that not appealing?

In any case, Li Zhixing would be taking another of the elder’s advice.

Patience was a virtue, as they often said.

The main issue was that he only had less than three days to face his ‘fated’ killer. It would be complete insanity to drop down to Foundation Establishment. He might even become unconscious for days should he try anything funny. While that would change his fate, he was only substituting death at the hands of Long Tian with death at the hands of Heaven, the guardian of contracts.

And that was disregarding his cluelessness on where to begin.

At the same time, he had no intention of following Li Zhixing’s Path. It was not a matter of ego; it was too dangerous, plain and simple. If he was using the original’s abilities and fell unconscious in the middle, death would be the likeliest result. The same applied to overestimating his own abilities, which was a large concern. In his experience, bad information and incorrect expectations were much more dangerous than having none at all.

In addition, there was a good chance that he had some inner demon lurking inside, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Following a wrongful Path seemed like a surefire way to give it what it desired. Even now, he had no clue the level the “demon” had reached, but he was taking no chances. Not until he was more certain.

The crux of the matter was that the original’s path was incompatible with himself.

There were two main things branded on Li Zhixing’s core. Words of imperial scarlet on a modest metallic brown. Unlike the rest of the core, these words remained unblemished. However, he felt a lack of… certainty. It was as if they were ephemeral, flickering in and out of his mind’s eye.

The first and the brightest: “Self-centred”.

At first glance, this might seem a bit strange. After all, cultivators were supposed to be self-centric in their beliefs and their pursuits. It was the mark of every good cultivator to be selfish, to place more weight on their perceptions than that of any other.

Self-centredness should therefore be intrinsic to one’s cultivation, without the need to explicitly aim for it. It was like Ambition. Anyone who lacked Ambition should not even embark on the journey to heaven. It simply was not a valid Path, because most if not all Paths contained it.

What made Li Zhixing’s Self-centredness any different? What gave it the substance required for a long, lasting Path?

For most cultivators, “Self-centredness” was not so much focused on just themselves, but rather it was focused on their beliefs.

Great cultivators are almost godlike in their emotions and their Path. These were their overriding concerns, the things that guide every thought and action. If anything stood in the way of their Path, they would remove it with not a second thought. Even if that “obstacle” was their dearest friend.

That was the normal “Self-centredness”. It was the (relatively) healthy kind, allowing for self-expression and deep interpersonal relationships.

Li Zhixing’s brand of “Self-centredness” was not that. Instead, his Path focused solely on self-interest with all of its characteristic ugliness. His Path centred on two aspects of his chief “Virtue”, pragmatism and empathy.

For Li Zhixing, to be pragmatic was to always weigh the “objective” benefits, ignore the subjective plight of others, and most importantly, keep his expectations of others as low as humanly possible. His distrust of other people ran deep, and Li Zhixing saw everyone else as a potential liability. As long as he could perform things himself, life was good.

This applied even to “close” friends. In any plans, he always sought to be the one in control, to bear the most responsibility, taking a very paternalistic approach in everything. It could explain his attitude towards the younger Long Tian, and the subsequent reactions that followed the protagonist’s increasing power.

Empathy, or rather the lack of empathy, was arguably the more important aspect.

For Li Zhixing, empathy was a luxury he did not have. When he cut open another’s throat, the fresh blood spraying like an out-of-control garden hose, he could not allow himself to care. Other people had tailored and perfected methods of dehumanizing others – great for them. He did not. All Li Zhixing had was his mind. And he did his best with it.

Eventually, human suffering was just… there. It was present, but it was no cause for concern. He was not his victim; his victim was not him. That was all. Why concern oneself over a natural fact of life? Why concern oneself over killing?

One obvious consequence was that he rarely understood people, especially those born in different circumstances to himself (i.e., most individuals). To him, they appeared all too optimistic, too out of touch, and too ungrateful.

More importantly, he knew what people were capable of – the depths of human cruelty in harsher circumstances. He knew what he himself was capable of, the things he had done when the situation demanded it.

Certainly, compassion and sympathy were traits almost inherent in the human condition. He had seen those in action. It was beautiful. However, when push came to shove and man was pitted against man, such inspiring deeds were rare indeed. In his world, survival was an open question and the fist was the supreme, and only, law. Li Zhixing doubted it would change, not any time soon.

The few acts of kindness he had borne witness to could not hold a candle to the rest of his lived history.

That was the main thing, the main source of power for his Path. For any Path, for that matter. In this world, cultivation was based on the personal history of an individual. One could sit in the best cave in the world, thinking for a thousand years, and one would remain as stagnant as still water. Some truly exceptional thinkers might break the mould, becoming individuals worthy of eternal admiration.

However, these few stand-outs drew attention from the demise of so many other cultivators, united in their mediocrity. For most, it was still better to go around, living a life worthy of heaven’s wandering notice. A life that ran according to the person’s chosen Path.

It was believed by many readers that a huge motivation for Li Zhixing’s betrayal was advancement. What could be more self-centred than going against his only friend? What could serve his self-interests more than forcefully taking the treasured cultivation physique and prized weapon of others? What screamed a lack of empathy more than betraying the only person that trusted him?

The evidence was clear. Before the arc, Long Tian had just advanced to the Middle Stage of Core Formation while Li Zhixing was only at the peak of the Early Stage. Yet, when they confronted one another just a few brief days after, Li Zhixing had reached the Late Stage and possessed a Heavenly Cultivation Physique.

In the current reality, Li Zhixing had just dropped to the Early Stage, which was a big issue.

The second word was “Simmering Rage”. This was Li Zhixing’s other “Virtue”, the one that Long Yonglin had guessed with accuracy.

“Simmering” represented the suppression of emotions, tied to the aspect of “empathy”. It was the main ingredient behind his techniques of reducing damage and delaying incoming pain. It was also linked to other techniques of Zhixing, with a focus on slowly building up before bursting out with wrath and power.

Personally, he did not find the term to be particularly fitting. From what he gathered, the name stemmed from one cold night out in the wilderness, not too long ago, when Zhixing and Long Tian were cooking dinner. They were also thinking up names at the time before the latter jokingly pointed at the stew they were making.

There was a pang in his chest. Scenes of laughter, the smell of well-cooked beef.

That was not him.

Either way, the name stuck. Goes to show just how arbitrary words and terms can be in this world. What mattered was the substance and essence of his beliefs; the words were there to serve as vehicles of convenience.

Li Zhixing’s “Rage” was built upon two things, one big and one small. The smaller part was his Rage at the inequalities of the world, at the biological and social advantages afforded to those fortunate few. However, this broad variant was beyond his capacity. Moreover, it was less effective than either the values of “Equality” or “Justice”.

Instead, Zhixing’s Rage was directed at one target: the Long Family. They were responsible for the virtual demise of his homeland, the actual deaths of his parents, and the misery of his life. Whether or not this was intentional was irrelevant; the end result was the same.

He held every single member of the Long household accountable. Down to the last child.

Li Zhixing pieced together the truth about Long Tian’s heritage before the latter managed to do the same. The writer even added two intentionally ominous lines.

Some readers saw this as clear evidence of Li Zhixing’s motives, but that failed to paint the whole picture. There were just too many reasons, piling higher and higher until this discovery became the breaking point.

Unfortunate. But that was the forceful hand of the narrative. From the very start, the various similarities between Long Tian and Li Zhixing’s beliefs only foreshadowed an eventual confrontation. A confrontation that would leave the protagonist victorious and discredit the views of the traitor.

Despite his grudging respect and understanding, Li Zhixing could not agree with the original. This disallowed him from pursuing the same Path. He could not find a new one right now, either.

Are you putting things off… again? It’s like nothing has changed.

Were those the words of Zhixing the Common Man or Zhixing the Unscrupulous Traitor? Most likely, they belonged to both. He promptly ignored his traitorous, unproductive mind.

The entrance was ahead. Leave the overthinking for later.