Volume One, Chapter Seventeen: The True Essence of Confucianism, Embracing All Rivers

The pill melted on his tongue, sending a cool minty sensation straight into his lungs and viscera. The suffocating pressure vanished instantly.

At last able to draw a proper breath, Ye Chen endured the agony, climbed down from the carriage, and entered the Star Observatory Tower.

But he did not forget to tell Uncle Fu, “Uncle Fu, wait for me at the entrance!”

Uncle Fu acknowledged him, drove the carriage away from the Directorate of Celestial Observations, and stopped outside the gate.

Inside the Star Observatory Tower, Ye Chen asked, “Is there any way to heal my meridians?”

“No. The Life-Extending Pill I just gave you is the only thing I can do. It can merely suppress the backlash from Words Become Law for a short while.”

“Which is why I need to ask you something. From yesterday until now, how many times have you used Words Become Law, and what did you use it for?”

“This is very important. It determines how long you’ll live.”

Looking at Jun Mo-ye’s solemn expression, Ye Chen had a bad feeling.

So he began with yesterday’s morning court session, recounting the oath he had made with Words Become Law after reaching the second rank of Confucian cultivation.

He continued all the way to the gates of the Prince of Wu’s residence, including every instance in which he had used Words Become Law through his thoughts.

He did not, however, say what he had used Words Become Law to accomplish each time.

After all, he still did not trust Jun Mo-ye enough to reveal the whole truth.

“Six times. Three of them just today!”

Jun Mo-ye’s eyes widened, and he trembled from head to toe in shock.

Ye Chen asked indifferently, “Is that a problem?”

“Of course it’s a problem! Since ancient times, not a single Confucian sage has used Words Become Law more than five times in his entire life.”

“You’ve used it six times in barely two days, and you’re still alive. You… you truly are a monster!”

As he spoke, Jun Mo-ye stared at Ye Chen with utter seriousness.

From his eyes, Ye Chen detected a strange excitement, as though he were looking at some unprecedented beast.

“Do you know who among Confucian cultivators has used Words Become Law the most? The Primordial Confucian Sage. He used it five times in all.”

“Once for the nation, once for the people, once for the world, once for all living beings, and once for the Confucian tradition. Then he died.”

So he had died because he used it too many times!

No wonder everyone mocked the Confucians. Using Words Become Law was essentially the same as throwing away one’s life.

Jun Mo-ye continued, “Do you know that many great Confucian scholars have only one chance to use Words Become Law in their entire lives?”

“Then how has Confucianism survived for thousands of years?”

Ye Chen voiced the question that had been troubling him. Jun Mo-ye looked at him in surprise.

“You’re a member of the imperial family, and you don’t even know that? Naturally, it’s because emperors seeking to rule the world established Confucianism as the sole honored tradition.”

“The main purpose was to use Confucian teachings to educate the masses and ensure lasting peace and stability for the realm!”

So that was how it was. Confucianism truly was the weakest path. Its survival into the present day had depended entirely on the rulers’ support.

Unexpectedly, Jun Mo-ye changed the subject.

“However, Confucianism does have one special quality. Those who cultivate it can simultaneously cultivate other paths of practice. Without Confucian cultivation, everyone can follow only a single path. That’s why many cultivators generally cultivate Confucianism as well. Even reaching merely the ninth rank is enough.”

Ye Chen understood only vaguely. In a small voice, he asked, “You mean that once someone cultivates Confucianism, they can practice several paths at the same time? The Daoist path, medicine, martial arts—all of them?”

Jun Mo-ye smiled. “Exactly. As long as you enter the ranks of Confucian cultivation, you can practice any path you like, as many as you want! Take me, for example…”

With that, Jun Mo-ye gave a proud smile. He clasped his hands behind his back, raised his head at a forty-five-degree angle, and spoke with imposing confidence.

“I’m a seventh-rank Confucian cultivator, a fourth-rank alchemist, a sixth-rank swordsman, and an eighth-rank physician. That’s why I’m the senior disciple under the Director.”

Only then did Ye Chen understand what made Confucianism so formidable.

Cultivating Confucianism was equivalent to gaining access to every other path of practice. That was why Confucian cultivators were the most numerous.

It was not because, as the original owner had believed, “the poor study while the rich practice martial arts.”

Even on Blue Star, in ancient Huaxia, Confucianism had been the key to integrating the three teachings of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. Its true strength lay in its ability to embrace a hundred rivers.

“You truly are a monster. What a pity that your life is nearly over. Unless…”

Jun Mo-ye spoke regretfully, stopping halfway.

“Unless what?”

“Forget it. There’s no point in saying it. It’s such an absurd notion, nothing more than a legend.”

The more evasive he became, the more Ye Chen wanted to know.

“What is it? Tell me. What if it really works?”

“It’s impossible!” Jun Mo-ye declared with certainty.

Ye Chen grew serious and continued pressing him. “I only want to stay alive. Even if it’s impossible, I have to try!”

Jun Mo-ye very much wanted the pill formulas Ye Chen had mentioned earlier, so he finally gave in.

“Fine, it won’t hurt to tell you. It’s no secret, anyway. The method is to alter one’s fate.”

Ye Chen was stunned. “Alter my fate? How?”

“How should I know? That’s why I said it’s only a legend.”

Jun Mo-ye spread his hands, then abruptly changed the subject.

“There are many explanations circulating among the people. Confucians can alter their fate through Words Become Law. Daoists can alter theirs by establishing a foundation at the Spiritual Terrace. Physicians can do so by reaching the pinnacle of the first rank. Martial artists can achieve sainthood through the physical body.

“But all of these require reaching the peak of the ninth level within the first rank. And they’re all merely rumors. They cannot be taken seriously!”

Ye Chen was disappointed. In the end, he asked, “Then how long can I live?”

Jun Mo-ye’s answer struck him like a knife.

“You could die in front of me at any moment.”

“So that means I should already be dead, doesn’t it?”

Seeing Ye Chen’s bitter smile, Jun Mo-ye nodded helplessly and spoke with urgency.

“So hurry up and tell me all the pill formulas you know. Then I’ll be able to establish the Alchemical Path. After you die, I’ll honor you as its founding patriarch.”

Ye Chen laughed in exasperation. But when he gave his word, he kept it.

“All right. Bring me paper and a brush. I’ll write them down for you!”

“Coming right up!”

Jun Mo-ye eagerly fetched paper and brush, personally holding the lamp and grinding the ink for Ye Chen.

Ye Chen picked up the writing brush and began transcribing the Song of Decoction Formulas from memory.

The Song of Decoction Formulas contained more than three hundred prescriptions, totaling roughly nine thousand characters. Ye Chen spent a full four hours writing them down.

Jun Mo-ye read through them one page at a time. Sometimes he shouted in excitement; sometimes he clapped his hands in delight. He looked completely deranged.

As he transcribed the formulas, Ye Chen also used his knowledge of traditional medicine to consider possible ways of extending his own life.

“Hahaha! With these pill formulas, I can open up another path of cultivation. For countless ages, cultivators have dreamed of establishing the Alchemical Path. Now it is about to be born in my hands!”

Ye Chen watched Jun Mo-ye silently set down his brush, pinch the bridge of his nose, and fall into deep thought.

After his excitement subsided, Jun Mo-ye looked at Ye Chen and suddenly leaned toward him with a mysterious expression.

“Wait! I remember now. The reason you’re still alive may be because of your fortune!”

“To put it simply, every cultivator since ancient times, no matter which path they followed, has ultimately been cultivating fortune.”

“The fact that you were able to use Words Become Law six times proves that your fortune far surpasses that of an ordinary first-rank cultivator.”

Fortune?

But Ye Chen was a man who might die at any moment. No matter how powerful his fortune was, how long could it possibly prolong his life?

With that thought, Ye Chen cupped his hands in farewell and prepared to leave.

Jun Mo-ye grabbed him. “Don’t go! The cultivation method for fortune is here in the Directorate of Celestial Observations! It’s just that this technique has been passed down for several thousand years, and no one has ever succeeded in entering its ranks.”

Ye Chen stopped in his tracks, recalling the earlier dream visitation from the Heavenly Sage Emperor.

“Come on. I’ll take you to the Repository of Ancient Books. Perhaps you can become the first person in several thousand years to cultivate fortune into the ranks!”

“Wait!”

Confused by Jun Mo-ye’s enthusiasm, Ye Chen asked, “Why are you being so kind to me?”

Jun Mo-ye smiled. “Yesterday, I was only there to watch the excitement. With my muddled collection of abilities, there was no way I could have defeated you. I had already decided that if I realized I couldn’t win, I would simply surrender.”

As he spoke, he led Ye Chen out of the Star Observatory Tower and toward the Repository of Ancient Books.

“And this morning, you saved my fifth junior sister. I, Jun Mo-ye, am a gentleman who believes in repaying kindness.”

“Besides, you’ve given me three hundred pill formulas. I ought to repay you for that, too!”

As they spoke, the two arrived at the Repository of Ancient Scriptures. Ye Chen voiced the question that had been troubling him.

“Why is it that no one has ever succeeded in cultivating the path of fortune?”

Jun Mo-ye’s answer only left Ye Chen even more confused.