Chapter 90 The Small Game of Chess: He Wenxi

Zhao Ziyi stared nervously at the white phantom in front of him.

"What is the Dao Heart? I only have the Sword Heart."

I meant no harm, but after carving the poem beside the white chess bowl, I came to this chess room.

Zhao Ziyi gripped the magical flying sword in his hand tightly.

He couldn't tell whether the person in front of him was a friend or foe.

The weathered voice rang out once more.

He read aloud the poem written by Zhao Ziyi, word by word.

"...If you win by half a move against Heaven, I will win by one and a half moves against Heaven."

What a brilliant move, winning by a single move against Heaven!

How did you come up with that idea?

Upon hearing the old man's question, Zhao Ziyi frowned, unsure how to explain.

"This poem is not my idea; it comes from an ancient person."

Upon hearing this, the old man burst into laughter.

"Haha, an ancient person? Do you know how long I've been dead?"

Zhao Ziyi shook his head; how could he possibly have guessed?

The old man stroked his beard, did some calculations with his fingers, and introduced:

“I have been dead for 30,000 years, and with my original lifespan, I have lived for a total of 35,000 years.”

"Tell me, from which era do these ancient people you're referring to come?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Ziyi's eyes widened. Dead for 30,000 years? Lifespan of 5,000 years?

He gave a dry laugh. "It's normal that you haven't heard of something that happened two or three thousand years ago."

Zhao Ziyi's expression amused the old man, who was very satisfied with Zhao Ziyi's performance.

The old man stroked his beard and asked with a smile:

"I ask you, why did you choose the path of the sword?"

Zhao Ziyi answered honestly:

"Because my master is a sword cultivator. I am an orphan and grew up by her side since I was a child, so I can only practice swordsmanship."

The old man hesitated for a moment, then asked:

"So what do you think is most important in the art of Go?"

Zhao Ziyi scratched his head. "I don't know anything about Go, so I'm not very clear on it."

The old man's eyes widened:

"So how did you solve the game?"

"Uh... since it's a game of chess, then we need to determine a winner."

Why not just solve the game and let the white pieces win?

Black wins by half a point, I win by one and a half points, and the game is solved.

Upon hearing this, the old man remained silent for a moment before sighing.

"Alas, it's all about timing and fate. If only I had your open-mindedness."

We won't be trapped here anymore.

"Young man, would you be willing to acknowledge me as your master and inherit my mantle?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Ziyi was somewhat tempted.

However, he already has a master, Master Zhao Linlin, who is still in the Tianyan Continent.

"I already have a master. Everyone swore an oath to become a disciple, and there's only one chance. I'm afraid..."

The old man smiled and shook his head:

"What oath can I, a dying man, make? I just want a title."

I simply want to pass on my Daoist principles.

Zhao Ziyi pursed his lips and said firmly:

"Alright, then I promise you, I will acknowledge you as my master."

Although I don't understand what the Dao Heart is, senior, you have lived for five thousand years, so you must be more powerful than the Nascent Soul Ancestor.

Today, I am in dire straits and need powerful cultivation to escape.

"My senior imparted his wisdom to me, and I promise him one request: to fulfill his dying wish."

"Good! Good! Good!" The old man stroked his beard and laughed, saying "good" three times in a row. Then he put two fingers together and sent a thought into Zhao Ziyi's mind.

With a loud bang, Zhao Ziyi's head felt like it was about to explode as countless pieces of information flooded into his mind.

There is also a story that describes the later life of a monk.

Zhao Ziyi kept his eyes closed and remained rooted to the spot.

Images of fighting flashed through his mind.

Two swordsmen are fighting, one dressed in white and the other in black.

The two fought fiercely, their battle so intense that the heavens and earth seemed to darken. They both possessed the power to move mountains and fill seas, causing the landscape to tremble with fear.

Time flowed by, and the seasons changed; they didn't know how long they had been fighting.

Many mountains were leveled by them.

Many more canyons appeared under their swords.

Suddenly, the two stopped fighting at the same time.

The white-robed swordsman won; his sword was now pressed against the black-robed swordsman's neck.

"Do you admit defeat?"

The black-clad swordsman chuckled, unconvinced.

"Hmph! You're only superior to me in cultivation level; your Dao heart is inferior to mine!"

The white-robed swordsman, upon hearing this, was not angry. He slowly and methodically sheathed his sword.

"Since you've brought up the matter of the heart, why don't we have a contest?"

The black-clad swordsman grinned crookedly:

"Then let's play Go, shall we?"

"I'll fight you to the bitter end!"

The black-clad swordsman took out a chessboard the size of a palm, and with a wave of his hand, threw the chessboard away.

The chessboard, originally the size of a palm, grew larger with the wind and, upon landing, transformed into a massive chessboard spanning hundreds of square meters.

With a loud "boom".

The chessboard landed, and a great light shone forth.

The white-robed swordsman calmly walked to the white chess piece side and sat cross-legged beside the white chess bowl.

"Black moves first, I'll give you a handicap."

The black-clad cultivator sneered and flicked his sleeve.

The black chess piece flew out of the bowl and landed on the chessboard with a thud.

The game begins.

This game lasted for a day and a night.

When the sky brightened again, the game was in a stalemate, and White was about to lose the entire game.

The white-robed monk hesitated to make a move.

The black-clad cultivator snorted coldly:

"You lost the game, and you lost the way!"

With a wave of his hand, the black-clad monk caused the chessboard to sink into the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

This chessboard, like a cage, tightly confined the white-robed cultivator.

The black-robed monk's arrogant laughter echoed through the clouds.

He used sword energy, sword spirit, and Daoist heart to inscribe a poem beside the black chess bowl.

This poem is mocking the person opposite.

Facing the cage, facing the predicament.

The white-robed cultivator neither stood up nor fled; his body remained stiff as he sat in place, gazing at the chessboard.

This predicament lasted for a thousand years.

Even after the white-robed cultivator passed away, the white stone still hadn't landed.

The name of the white-robed cultivator appeared in Zhao Ziyi's mind—He Wenxi.

Suddenly, all the images shattered.

A young He Wenxi appeared before Zhao Ziyi.

"I proved my Dao heart with flawlessness, but in this game, I lost, and my flawlessness became incomplete."

When my resolve to follow the Tao is shattered, I am unable to cultivate myself.

Now that you have understood my experiences, are you willing to inherit my flawless Daoist heart?

Upon hearing this, Zhao Ziyi asked, puzzled:

"What is the Dao Heart? Why can't one cultivate if the Dao Heart is shattered?"

He Wenxi explained slowly and methodically:

"The Dao Heart is the cornerstone of Nascent Soul cultivation."

If a Golden Core cultivator wishes to break through to the Nascent Soul stage, they need to infuse their Golden Core with their Dao Heart.

Only with a heart can one live.

Only when a nascent soul possesses a Daoist heart can it condense into a physical form.

The way of perfection is the way of the virtuous; striving for ever greater beauty and ever more refinement.

Zhao Ziyi was greatly shocked when he heard this.

He recalled what Lin Maozhi had said about the fake Nascent Soul.

The Dao Heart does not exist in the Tianyan Continent.

In the Tianyan Continent, no one has ever advanced to the Nascent Soul stage!

He asked stiffly:

"What would happen if one lacked a Daoist heart?"

"If a suitable Dao Heart has not been found before the Nascent Soul is formed, the body will explode and the person will die."

If a cultivator abandons their cultivation and remains forever at the Golden Core stage, there is still a glimmer of hope.

Zhao Ziyi swallowed hard, feeling somewhat disappointed. He shook his head and refused He Wenxi's offer.

"No, the path you have taken, senior, is too difficult. I may not be able to achieve it."

No gold is pure, no man is perfect, and even the finest jade is carved from rough stone.

"I cannot cultivate the path of flawlessness."

He Wenxi shook his head and smiled:

"I had the same thoughts as you before, but then I got trapped in this small chessboard."

But now I want to tell you.

The path to perfection might make your cultivation easier.