Chapter 58: A Heart of Sincerity

Perhaps it was because they stood so high up, but upon this plateau, the sky always seemed closer. One only had to raise their head to see a vast expanse of azure blue, with clouds appearing only occasionally. Beneath the sky, mountain ranges stretched endlessly; several peaks were capped with dazzling white snow. The mountains formed a continuous chain, winding across the land, while eagles soared in spirals, their cries echoing through the air.

It was a scene of grandeur.

It stirred the soul.

Rarely did one find such flat clearings between the peaks where grasslands could unfurl, and it was even rarer to glimpse the glimmer of a sunlit lake.

Gu Yi was utterly entranced by the sight.

“...Look,” he said, “see the lake in the sunlight? Doesn’t it look as though countless silver needles are falling from the sky?”

The Seventh Princess stood several meters away from him, unsure how to respond. Throughout her life, she had never heard a man speak such words to her, and now, she found herself at a loss.

“How do you still have the leisure to admire the view? Where exactly is this Plateau Sea of Trees you’re searching for?”

Gu Yi could guess her thoughts. “You want to finish this quickly, to leave this world of paper?”

“The sooner you leave, the better for you,” Yin Tianchang reminded him. “I am the Seventh Princess of the Great Xu. If I remain missing for too long and my father notices, you’ll be in trouble. And…”

“Yes?” Gu Yi prompted.

The Seventh Princess spoke with unusual gravity. “In the future, you shouldn’t say things like that so freely. It’s improper to speak so lightly of such matters.”

She was truly the image of a noble lady.

Like Hexian, she was kind-hearted, though not as naively innocent. The Seventh Princess was much shrewder.

Gu Yi, however, was as shameless as city walls were thick. He grinned carelessly. “Very well, I promise you, I’ll never speak out of turn—at least not when others are present.”

“Mmm, good!” The Seventh Princess seemed pleased and moved a little closer. Yet after taking a few steps, she hesitated. “Even if it’s just the two of us, you shouldn’t say such things.”

Gu Yi ignored her and climbed a nearby ridge, gazing out at the undulating earth. The mountains rose and fell in endless succession, and from his vantage, the lake’s rippling surface shone with a thousand glimmers, like silver needles plunging from the sky.

Such a phenomenon belonged to the meeting of light and water.

Gu Yi felt as if an insight was dawning within him.

Tianyu was a short distance away, stretching out her hand as if to measure the vastness of the landscape. Excited, she asked, “Does this world within the paper exist in reality? Is it a part of my homeland?”

“The mountains and rivers are real enough, but few tread these lands, and none know where, in times past, the Plateau Sea of Trees might have been.”

The Seventh Princess suddenly thought of something.

“If you are one of the people of the Twin Peaks, doesn’t that mean you’re an enemy of Xu?”

“I have no interest in that—unless your people insist on treating me as one.” Gu Yi stretched lazily. “As I’ve said, my ties to the Twin Peaks are tenuous at best. I’m not someone who would fight for the honor of a nation lost three hundred years ago. That would be far too passionate for me.”

“Then what is it you seek? Your talent is extraordinary. You know secrets about the Twin Peaks. And what exactly is this paper?” Tianyu’s eyebrows were delicately arched, not a hair out of place, making her appear all the more striking.

“Even if I didn’t tell you, you’d figure it out soon enough. I might as well say it and earn a bit more of your trust.” Gu Yi was forthright. “Very well. I’ll be candid.

“The reason I entered the Hall of Arts was simple: I wanted to confirm that our world has been diminished. And within this paper lies the reason why.”

His words made the Seventh Princess uneasy. Her soft lips trembled, still full of youthful vitality.

“What... what do you mean? Diminished?”

Words might not be enough to convince her.

Gu Yi’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.

He raised his palm. Instantly, a faint aura radiated from him. Sunlight poured over the lake as spiritual energy mingled with the water and sky. The glimmering light arrayed itself endlessly, dazzling and sharp as needles. The power arose from spiritual energy, its presence elusive and ethereal, its form hidden within the same. Day or night, sun or moon, the lake’s surface would shimmer with these glints, stretching for thousands of miles, each needle of light just as long and sharp. Such was the true nature of the Thousand Needles of Glimmering Light.

His open hand slowly clenched into a fist.

A thunderous boom resounded.

The Seventh Princess stared in shock as waves erupted from the lake nestled in the mountainside. When the water crashed down again, it transformed into a myriad of needles, filling the sky and blotting out the sun.

“What is... that?” she managed.

“The Thousand Needles of Glimmering Light—the technique I practice. I was inspired by the lake’s reflection,” Gu Yi replied, his broad grin undiminished. “This is only the first needle, but what do you think? Not bad, is it?”

Yin Tianyu was so stunned she could only cover her mouth, unable to speak. She shook her head in disbelief, then glanced back at the young man who wore such an easy smile. Had it truly been him who unleashed that technique?

“I once said it was a friend’s words that brought me to the Hall of Arts. In truth, he meant to remind me: the world has been veiled by a curtain. He left me a message: ‘The techniques in the Luyang Academy’s Hall of Arts are all trash.’”

The Seventh Princess frowned. She was a patriot, and such words sounded arrogant to her ear.

But on reflection, Gu Yi might have earned the right to say them.

And she was still trying to grasp what it meant for the world to have been diminished.

“...Do you mean all the true arts have been lost?”

“I don’t know yet. Didn’t I say? I’m looking for the reason.” Gu Yi shrugged. “You don’t need to question my motives anymore. I’m just a casual practitioner, but I want to practice the right way.”

Yin Tianyu wandered off, lost in thought as she walked alone upon the desolate plateau. It is hard to admit that years of effort may have been in vain, that one’s path might have been mistaken from the start.

Gu Yi simply sat cross-legged, seizing upon the insight he’d just gained. Now was the perfect time to cultivate.

A long while later, she returned to him.

“So, all my past cultivation was in vain?”

“It doesn’t matter. Very few have done it right, anyway.”

Yin Tianyu fell silent.

“No wonder I found those Twin Peaks warriors’ spear techniques so marvelous... I must report this to my father when we return.”

Gu Yi turned and brushed his hair from his eyes. “I advise you not to do that.”

“Why not?”

He couldn’t offer a definitive answer.

But Gu Yi could reason it out.

“After the Twin Peaks people were destroyed, the only ones left on this land were the people of Xu. So, who do you think caused things to be the way they are?”

The Seventh Princess’s pupils contracted sharply, a chill running through her. Yet the one who spoke these words remained entirely unruffled, his smile unwavering.

In truth, he knew everything.

“Why do you act as if you know it all?” she asked.

Gu Yi patted the dust from his clothes and got to his feet. “Because ever since I was young, I’ve heard the story of the Burning of Books and Burying of Scholars.”

“The Burning of Books and Burying of Scholars?”

The more he explained, the more complicated it seemed. Gu Yi grew lazy again.

“I know you doubt what I’ve told you. If you can’t believe it, then don’t. It doesn’t matter.”

“But you’ve already told me.”

“I’ve also told you I like you, yet you ignore that as well.”

“You... you’re really quite vexing. Who can I tell this secret to?”

“To no one. Let the world live in peace—don’t disturb them. This question doesn’t matter. What matters is that now I can truly cultivate.”

He finally understood why little Yiyi had called the Hall of Arts trash, why she had taken away his power—because those arts were all wrong.

But the human realm was not the Seventh Realm.

There were still things he didn’t understand; there must be more to the story. Perhaps the answers lay deep within the Plateau Sea of Trees, or in some other piece of paper.

Those were answers for the future; for now, he needed to strengthen himself. If he met someone from three hundred years ago again, the slight advantage he had over Fan Ling would be gone.

So, as night fell, he did not leave. He sat beside the lake, gazing at its moonlit surface, immersing himself in the subtleties of the Thousand Needles of Glimmering Light he had realized by day.

The Seventh Princess was not far away. She watched as he subtly restrained the light emanating from his body.

One’s talent could be judged by the radiance they gave off when communing with heaven and earth, but this man was deliberately holding it back.

“Even if you keep staring at me, please don’t praise my looks,” he said. “I dislike it when my effort and dedication go unnoticed.”

The Seventh Princess turned her head away, hiding a smile as she thought to herself: How could someone be like this?!

Having barely suppressed her amusement, she coughed twice and asked, “Say, you could form your heart’s resolve—why don’t you?”

Gu Yi was indeed gifted, highly sensitive to spiritual energy. A fullness seemed to swell and pulse rhythmically just below his navel.

“Before, I doubted the path of cultivation, so my mind was unsettled and I couldn’t set my resolve. Now, I want to wait until I leave this place, to think everything through, gain clarity, and only then will I set my heart.”

The Seventh Princess asked, “Then, what is the heart you wish to set upon the path of immortality?”

“Truth. The truth of things, the truth of principle,” Gu Yi answered, shaking his head to tease her. “And, of course, sincerity of heart.”

The Seventh Princess shrank her neck and rolled her eyes at him.