Although with Li Chi’s current state, not all karma could be seen—for instance, when previously tracing the mastermind behind the scenes in Divine Tree Village, that person’s karma had been concealed. But Flame Lord’s karma was certainly not within the range of what he couldn’t see.
Flame Lord’s understanding of karma was not particularly deep, and moreover, Li Chi estimated he wouldn’t think to guard against it for the time being.
Li Chi’s gaze shifted slightly, and from the dense fog-like karma he instantly picked out an old thread, which thrummed and vibrated.
Karma was manifest and clear.
……
Blazing flames burn, consuming their fuel.
Fire does not burn in emptiness; it must have its fuel. Even the heart flame of the Mingdeng Sect requires a spark of compassionate and benevolent thoughts devoid of desire in the heart to serve as fuel.
Without fuel the fire dies; without fire the fuel lies dormant. Ordinary firewood is finite but the heart is infinite—using the heart as fuel, the flame never extinguishes.
What Flame Lord governed was not the fires of the world, but the kindling fires of the world.
His personality differed from other gods. Although the many gods each had their own distinct temperaments, Flame Lord’s peculiarity was especially noteworthy even among the various gods.
For instance, regarding the matter of mortals gaining wisdom, in the very beginning, quite a few gods noticed mortals. This newly born civilized race stumbled and fell in the mortal world, and because they revered the power of heaven and earth, they made sacrifices to countless self-named celestial phenomena and even concepts. This inevitably resulted in some sacrifices reaching the corresponding gods.
The gods sensed the power of mortal thoughts. Though they did not make use of it, they would at least lower their gaze to take a glance. Some, after seeing clearly the origin of this matter, paid no further attention. Others with higher interest would observe from time to time, but among the gods there were few like Flame Lord who maintained their interest for such a long time.
Mortals had nothing particularly special about them. What they possessed—right and wrong, good and evil, the seven emotions and six desires—was no different from other living beings. But perhaps out of boredom, or perhaps due to some kind of inspiration, Flame Lord simply continued observing like this. He watched mortals gradually separate themselves from wild beasts, hunting animal skins and weaving hemp and vines for clothing, grinding bones and stones, sharpening bamboo and wood for weapons.
As Flame Lord observed and observed, a thought suddenly arose.
“Spar with me!” That day, Flame Lord suddenly transformed into mortal form and sought out the deity within the Sun Star.
The deity at that time looked at Flame Lord’s appearance and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow high.
The form Flame Lord had taken naturally possessed its own dignified bearing—brilliant red hair, golden eyes containing majesty, skin colored reddish-black, dignified and flawless, unlike ordinary mortals.
This form was undoubtedly extremely beautiful. The forms taken by gods had no flaws, their body proportions were all harmonious and appropriate without exception, and they did not suffer from the depletion of essence, energy and spirit that caused mortals’ vitality to be insufficient. Their vigorous spirit and majestic aura were indescribably captivating.
However, Flame Lord had obviously referenced the appearance of the mortals he had seen. Most of his torso was bare, with only a flame-flowing skirt wrapped around his waist, roughly similar to the animal-skin skirts worn by mortals. Besides this, he also held two bamboo spears in his hands. Unlike the flame-flowing lower garment on his body, these two half-worn bamboo spears were just ordinary bamboo spears, picked up from who knows where.
“What are you trying to do now?” asked Yun Zhangshi, who was then with the deity in the Sun Star.
This word “now” was quite meaningful.
Flame Lord paid no attention at all, raising one bamboo spear and saying, “Transform into mortal form like me, and let us spar with these.”
He separated one bamboo spear with his left hand and extended it forward toward the two gods. “Which of you will come?”
Yun Zhangshi retreated slightly, having no interest whatsoever.
Flame Lord turned the bamboo spear toward the other deity. “Will you come?”
The deity said nothing, but had already transformed into mortal form—white robes and black hair, wide sleeves and broad garments. He reached out to take the bamboo spear Flame Lord handed him and lowered his gaze to examine it.
Yun Zhangshi couldn’t help but ask Flame Lord. “What are you doing this for?”
Gods inherently had no form, taking their dao as their body, with no limits on any action. Weapons were things invented by mortals to compensate for the limitations they were born with—why would the gods need to transform into mortal forms and spar with mortal weapons? This was like a fierce tiger abandoning its claws and fangs to strike with wooden sticks, or mortals abandoning their five fingers to build nests while holding grass vines in their mouths. This was really… unless one was idle to a certain degree, one couldn’t possibly do such a thing.
“I’m happy to!” said Flame Lord. He looked at the form the deity had manifested—the white robes elegant and refined—and added, “That’s quite good!”
He had no intention of changing his own attire. Clothing was merely external appearance, and even the form he had currently manifested could be discarded at any time. Seeing that the deity had already taken the bamboo spear, Flame Lord raised his hand and attacked.
The deity raised his arm and easily blocked his bamboo spear. The two spears clashed, shaking off some fragments.
This was truly a very difficult sparring match—not because Flame Lord was particularly troublesome, but because not destroying these two bamboo spears was not easy.
These were just two bamboo spears made from the most ordinary bamboo and wood, moreover the kind that had been used by mortals and were nearly discarded. In the hands of the two gods they were no more resilient than feathers. If they wanted to use divine power to preserve them long-term, this wouldn’t be difficult, but Flame Lord insisted on using them to spar. Since they were to spar with these two objects, naturally they couldn’t avoid having them strike each other, and they would inevitably suffer damage.
It was like mortals clearly having decent strength in their elbows and knees, yet insisting on fighting with reed stalks while carefully ensuring the reed stalks weren’t broken. This kind of fighting would probably be more mentally exhausting than a real fight with actual weapons.
Yun Zhangshi watched from the side, finding it unbearable to watch.
However, after just a moment, when the bamboo spear in the deity’s hand touched the side of Flame Lord’s bamboo spear, these two bamboo spears finally could no longer withstand the force of collision and completely shattered into fragments.
Flame Lord stood empty-handed, staring blankly at the bamboo pieces scattered on the ground.
After a long silence, the deity said, “Shall I compensate you with one?”
Flame Lord shook his head, but his appearance looked exactly like a large dog that had lost its toy.
The deity was silent, then raised his hand to draw a piece of star-stone from the Sun Star, kneading and pulling it to transform it into a long spear.
Although this was just a piece of ordinary stone casually taken, since it came from the Sun Star and had been tempered by the True Fire of the Sun for countless years, it could be considered extraordinarily resilient, barely able to withstand their clashing.
Flame Lord reached out to take it, hefted it twice, and said, “Thank you, but I’m still going to find two more bamboo spears.” As soon as he finished speaking, he vanished.
The long spear refined by the deity had no use for him. Gods didn’t need weapons in the first place, and he didn’t seek out those two bamboo spears because he wanted weapons, but for some unknown reason, he insisted on finding weapons used by mortals to spar with.
Both gods remaining in the Sun Star saw through Flame Lord’s thoughts.
Yun Zhangshi said strangely, “What notion has he gotten into his head now?”
The deity shook his head. “I’m not clear either.”
“You certainly indulge him,” Yun Zhangshi sighed, but suddenly noticed what seemed like a trace of wistfulness passing over the deity’s emotions.
But that emotion dispersed too quickly to be grasped, and the deity had already returned to his original appearance, saying slowly, “Aren’t things much quieter for you all with me doing this?”
“That’s true,” Yun Zhangshi acknowledged without dwelling on the deity’s fleeting emotion.
Ever since discovering that the deity almost never drove him out of the Sun Star, Flame Lord had turned to frequently coming here to make a fuss, rarely bothering other gods anymore.
Just as they were speaking, Flame Lord had already returned. This time he brought a large pile of bamboo spears, stacked so high they were almost taller than a person. This time he not only fixed his attention on the deity but also set his sights on Yun Zhangshi.
Yun Zhangshi looked at his pile of bamboo spears and changed color slightly, saying, “I have no mind to accompany your foolishness.”
Flame Lord wasn’t disappointed and turned his attention back to the deity.
This time even the deity couldn’t help but ask, “Why must you do this?”
Flame Lord made an “mm” sound, casually pulled out a bamboo spear and waved it twice, saying, “Humans are a very interesting kind of living being.”
“Among the beings of the world, as long as they have not escaped the cycle of reincarnation, they are inevitably born with deficiencies. Fish cannot fly, birds cannot enter water—the world has already prepared for them the scope of their existence. Wild beasts live thus, perhaps feeling constrained, but their wisdom is insufficient for them to think of ways to compensate. If they can gain wisdom and gradually understand the principles of the world, they can cultivate, seeking within themselves, and can reduce their own deficiencies. When they transcend reincarnation, they can become our fellow daoists.”
“Before this, any living being that perceives constraint and wishes to break free from it, without exception, walks this path. But humans are now walking another path.”
“After they hunt and kill prey for meat, they strip the hide and fur to compensate for their own lack of fur for warding off cold; they grind wood and stone to make weapons to compensate for their own lack of sharp claws and fangs for attack. And so on to domesticating wild beasts and cutting forests to make roads—all without exception are like this, either using external things to add to themselves to compensate for deficiencies, or changing the environment to adapt to themselves to break constraints. They no longer seek within themselves, but seek from without.”
“What’s so special about that?” Yun Zhangshi said. “They’re merely trapped by desires without knowing it. Wild beasts are the same—it’s just that their wisdom is insufficient for them to do the same things.”
Flame Lord shook his head. “Because wild beasts have insufficient wisdom, their desires are also limited to simple levels. Cultivators know that desires are shackles that will obstruct cultivation, so they will actively restrain their own thoughts. But humans are between the two. Their desires will grow because of wisdom, just like their clothing—initially only for covering the body and warding off cold, now they’ve begun to pursue beauty and preciousness. Yet few among them can understand that the shackles lie not in external circumstances but in their own hearts, so they don’t restrain the thoughts in their hearts either. Their desires can expand infinitely—isn’t that special?”
Yun Zhangshi disagreed. “So what if desires expand? Thoughts are only confined to the heart and in the end only trouble their own cultivation.”
This was correct, and Flame Lord didn’t argue, only scooped up a bamboo spear and tossed it to the deity.
Though helpless, the deity still caught the bamboo spear and sparred with him.
But after that ground full of bamboo spears had all broken into fragments, Flame Lord still hadn’t fought out any conclusion. He turned his head, wanting to gather another batch of bamboo spears.
“Wait!” The deity couldn’t help but feel a headache and stopped him, saying, “If you continue like this, I won’t let you enter the Sun Star anymore!”
Playing around for a while was fine, but who had the patience to accompany him fighting with toothpicks all day?
Flame Lord walked back somewhat unhappily, crossed his legs and plopped down onto that pile of bamboo pieces, lowering his eyes, not knowing what he was thinking.
Yun Zhangshi gloated from the side, not expecting to suddenly bring disaster upon himself.
Flame Lord looked up at Yun Zhangshi, his eyes lighting up. “We two haven’t sparred yet!”
One was impatient—wasn’t there still another? Among all these gods, there were enough for him to pester one by one.
Yun Zhangshi hurriedly wanted to retreat, but was pestered by Flame Lord. Having no choice, he said, “Those bamboo spears can’t withstand force. You’ve already fussed with these things for so long—why must you still use mortal weapons and mortal fighting methods? Won’t it work to forge something more sturdy?”
Flame Lord thought about it and said, “What you say is correct. I’ve seen enough of mortals’. I should look at something else.”
He transformed into mortal form again and picked up the long spear the deity had casually rubbed together for him earlier from Sun Star stone, his golden eyes looking toward Yun Zhangshi.
Yun Zhangshi firmly refused to transform into mortal form.
Flame Lord’s gaze drifted to the other side. The deity sighed helplessly. “How long will you continue pestering?”
Flame Lord’s golden eyes suddenly brightened, and he laughed loudly. “Spar with me one more time and I’ll go find someone else!”
His wrist turned, and the long spear thrust forward like flowing light.
Clang!
The deity casually pulled over another piece of star-stone and kneaded it into a long spear. The spear shafts clashed, and flame-flow burst forth.
These two weapons were first wielded in mortal fashion, becoming more exquisite each time, more swift each time. In the end, even the bravest warrior among mortals would probably marvel at such spear techniques—this was already the most supreme spear technique that mortals could wield.
After these several exchanges using mortal weapon combat methods, Flame Lord began again with new techniques. These new techniques were already movements that ordinary mortal bodies could not perform. Only after cultivation, after removing part of their innate limitations, could human bodies withstand and wield such spear techniques.
Since Flame Lord wanted to try this, the deity accompanied him in changing methods. They weren’t trying to determine victory or defeat. This sparring match was only because Flame Lord had some thoughts, and so the deity assisted him in completing his contemplation through this method.
Such things were not uncommon among gods, but Flame Lord’s peculiarity was that his thoughts could be described as changing daily without rhyme or reason, often causing much fuss without showing any results, as if he was just having a fit of extreme idleness. Like this time—which other god besides Flame Lord would suddenly think to transform into mortal form to find someone to spar with?
After several more exchanges, Flame Lord’s spear techniques began to incorporate magic arts. This was no longer pure spear technique, but had evolved into a cultivation method specifically for combat. The power of this spear technique had already multiplied, enabling those who cultivated this method to have combat ability far exceeding countless times what they had before cultivating it. If this cultivation method appeared in later generations, it would surely become a secret technique that countless people would fight over, concealing it as a treasure. After all, this was a cultivation method evolved by a god.
Because of the changes in Flame Lord’s spear technique, the deity’s spear technique changed accordingly, perfectly able to receive Flame Lord’s movements so he didn’t need to interrupt his deduction.
The momentum of the spear technique in Flame Lord’s hands grew more and more intense, its formidable nature unmistakably evident. He pushed it to an even higher level, flame-flow gradually wrapping around the spear shaft, and the golden flames in Flame Lord’s eyes grew increasingly violent.
The deity’s brow furrowed slightly. He suddenly flashed before Flame Lord and grasped his spear-wielding wrist.
“Stop. You’re not very suited to using weapons.”
Flame Lord’s flames instantly dispersed. He didn’t resist, only lowered his eyes halfway, not knowing what he was thinking.
Yun Zhangshi had also discerned something from their sparring. His gaze fell to the lower realm, clearly perceiving the world, murmuring, “Among mortal cultivators, it seems no such cultivation method has yet appeared.”
This was indeed so. Ancient cultivators—their purpose was to transcend reincarnation and subdue their own hearts, so why would they need to fight with others? If one observed worldly matters long enough, one could understand that all worldly schemes, machinations, power, rise and fall were no more than dream bubbles, dispersing in an instant like smoke and clouds. Things done in past lives were re-enacted in this life, just like plays that ended and began again—in the end, nothing more than the same futile waste. And the good and evil desires generated within ultimately couldn’t escape the principle of karma.
Ancient cultivators emphasized dao methods rather than magical techniques. The one or two minor arts they knew were merely so that before achieving cultivation, they could preserve themselves from wild disasters and dangers and continue cultivating. All principles were clearly explained. Greed and anger needed to be subdued bit by bit—there was no need to fight among themselves for things like techniques or treasures. The spear technique of immense power that Flame Lord had just deduced was, in their eyes, also taking a deviant and crooked path, something to be discarded like worn-out shoes.
Greed helps breed conflict, conflict inevitably generates anger—all of these consume spirit and strengthen mental shackles. Weapons were things born from this. Since one could understand this principle, why would one create such a method of using weapons for combat?
Flame Lord raised his eyes and said, “Indeed so. This is not a technique that should appear in the world.”
Yun Zhangshi understood Flame Lord’s meaning, but still disagreed, saying, “Greed and anger arise from the heart, not something that can be influenced by whether a technique exists in the world or not. Those who are deeply greedy and angry, ignorant and foolish, will find ways to fight for other things even without this technique. Those whose nature is pure and whose wisdom is clear will not be deluded by it and become endlessly fighting over external things even with this technique.”
What Yun Zhangshi said was quite right. If a person wanted to hunt wild beasts, without knives or spears they would use stones, without rope they would use vines. Whether or not these things existed, driven by a deluded heart, one could ultimately think of methods.
Flame Lord agreed with Yun Zhangshi’s statement. He just had some feeling about this matter that even he himself wasn’t quite clear about.
While they were talking, the deity had remained silent, his gaze distant and expression inscrutable, as if looking at something.
When Flame Lord finished his conversation with Yun Zhangshi, he turned to look at the deity and asked curiously, “What did you see?”
The deity withdrew his gaze and looked at Flame Lord, a smile at the corners of his mouth. The meaning in that smile looked strange, like well-intentioned teasing. Flame Lord instantly had an ill premonition.
“That pile of bamboo spears of yours…” the deity asked slowly, “How did you obtain them?”
Flame Lord’s feeling was related to mortals. To grasp that unclear feeling of his, the pile of bamboo spears he found were all ones that had been used by mortals. But as a god, Flame Lord naturally wouldn’t steal or rob, nor did he want to interfere with mortals’ fate. How exactly had he obtained such a large pile of used bamboo spears in such a short time?
Yun Zhangshi heard the certain implication hidden in these words and couldn’t help but be greatly curious, asking, “How did he obtain them?”
Yun Zhangshi wasn’t asking Flame Lord—Flame Lord definitely wouldn’t say, but the deity certainly knew. Unfortunately, Yun Zhangshi couldn’t see mortal karma and thus couldn’t perceive what Flame Lord had done before.
Before the deity could speak, the light in Flame Lord’s eyes had already blazed brightly, pressing toward Yun Zhangshi. “He won’t spar with me anymore. You happen to be here—accompany me in a match?”
Yun Zhangshi suddenly restrained his expression, his tone as solemn as could be, and bade farewell to the deity, “Evening approaches, I shall go sit in the Taiyin Star.” Having said this, he immediately drifted out of the Sun Star.
Flame Lord didn’t block his way. The deity watched this lawsuit and smiled lazily, also not saying what exactly he had seen in the karma.
After Yun Zhangshi left, the deity looked at Flame Lord and asked, “You’re so concerned with this matter—have you sensed something?”
“I can’t say clearly either.” Flame Lord shook his head, and there was also confusion in his expression.
“Mortals and these weapons, no matter what they ultimately evolve into, are only operating within the dao,” the deity said.
Plant your own causes, receive your own effects. Since this was so, the world couldn’t fall into chaos.
Flame Lord nodded, but feelings were originally vague and unclear. After pondering for a long time, not knowing whether he was asking the deity or himself, he murmured a sentence. “How do you know this inconspicuous kindling won’t ultimately burn into a terrible flame?”
After asking, he shook his head himself and stopped dwelling on this thought—he had too many various scattered feelings. If he had to pick apart and understand each one clearly, wouldn’t that trap him again?
After letting go of this thought, Flame Lord’s expression suddenly became serious, as if about to discuss a very important matter. He looked at the deity and said, “That thing you just saw… could you pretend you didn’t see it?”
The deity laughed once. “Alright, then you also promise me one thing.”
“What thing?” Flame Lord asked.
“I want you to…”
Flame-light suddenly flared, swallowing the scene and sound before him. Li Chi emerged from this section of karma and laughed once.
So he’d reacted. But he’d already seen almost everything. For Flame Lord to only now think of concealing this section of his karma—it was really a bit too late.
However, there was no need for him to tease Flame Lord further about this. Li Chi only, within that single laugh, suddenly transformed again into a clear breeze and disappeared from the spot.