The Encounter in the Park
The meditation concluded in absolute tranquility. Eyes opened one by one—clear, serene, and profound, as if emerging from a sacred stream that had washed away earthly dust. Sunlight filtered through foliage, casting delicate golden streaks upon the soil like wordless blessings.
Giang Long stepped forward, approaching with reverence. He bowed deeply—not out of worldly etiquette, but out of pure veneration from the depths of his heart for those carrying the light of the Great Fa.
Before their warm gazes, the youth recounted his ten-thousand-mile journey. He spoke of Mount Van Lac shrouded in mist, the destitute thatched hut, and the prophecy etched into his bloodline. He described the struggle with the Black Cloud Tiger, his fractured arm, and the hide inscribed with ancient scripts. He spoke of his ancestors' vow, stepping through the five-colored gate, and receiving the mandate of salvation from the Perfected One.
Giang Long spoke slowly, his voice trembling. No one interrupted. In the silent space, only the rustle of falling leaves mingled with the steady breathing of those who had just emerged from stillness. They listened quietly, their eyes brimming with understanding, welcoming a wanderer home after a journey through storm and wind.
The Great Fa Amidst the Mortal Realm
As Giang Long finished, a middle-aged practitioner smiled softly—a smile as gentle as that of an old friend awaited since time immemorial:
“The Great Fa you have sought across the ends of the earth, crossing mountains, deep forests, and life-and-death tribulations, has already been spreading throughout this mortal world for the past three years.”
He extended his hand, pointing gently toward the crowd outside the park:
“We, too, are ordinary people, learning, practicing, and daily refining our Xinxing right here, amidst daily life.”
These words struck Giang Long’s consciousness like a thunderbolt, leaving him stunned into silence. Three years. The magnificent Great Fa was not hidden upon a peak, nor sealed within a forbidden land; it manifested right in the heart of the bustling human world. All those weary steps, all those moments of brushing against death... in the end, all grand opportunities converged at this ordinary place.
In that instant, a heavy weight melted from his soul. His rigid notion that divine Truth required isolation from the human world shattered completely, yielding to profound clarity.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
A woman in the group gently retrieved a volume from a simple satchel. The cover bore no elaborate runes, yet the light emanating from it was pure and warm like the morning sun—carrying a power of compassion that pierced through darkness. She raised the volume with both hands, reverently presenting it to Giang Long:
“This is the True Sutra of the Great Fa.”
Tears of Gratitude
Giang Long’s hands trembled as he received the scripture. The instant his fingertips touched the pages, a wave of warmth coursed through his spine, causing his entire frame to quiver. It was not an explosion of martial force, but a profound sense of homecoming—like a traveler who, having tasted all the bitterness of the world, had finally found his true harbor.
Tears fell uncontrollably, soaking into the golden lines of wisdom. The Jade of Celestial Whispers at his chest vibrated rhythmically, emitting an emerald radiance that merged perfectly with the compassionate aura flowing from the True Sutra—like two ancient light-streams reuniting amidst the mortal realm.
Giang Long knelt upon the earth, bowing before the boundless compassion of the Great Fa.
“So many hardships... so many desperate searches...” His voice was choked with sobs. “Finally... this junior has lived to receive the True Sutra.”
The wind died down completely; everything seemed to stand still. The light from the book spread gently into the space—a pure radiance that heaven, earth, and all creation bore witness to.
The Mission Officially Begins
Beyond the intersections, carriages passed in abundance, their wheels rattling over stone. Pedestrians rushed past, burdened by worries. The mortal world remained noisy and restless.
But within Giang Long’s soul, everything had become utterly still. The bustling world receded, yielding to the True Sutra he held, the undying faith burning in his heart, and a mandate of salvation resting upon his shoulders.
The journey of the youth from Van Lac was no longer a weary search in the dark. It was a path of Practice, Steadfastness, and Responsibility—assisting the Holy King in spreading the light of Truth to awaken lost souls.
Giang Long clutched the True Sutra tightly. He understood clearly—the road ahead would be fraught with tribulations more ruthless than those in the deep forests. But this time, he no longer walked in doubt. He had the Way as his companion, and the supreme light of Truth to illuminate his path.
CANTO XXIX: THE DAY OF RETURN TO THE LIGHT
Through unnumbered years, across the lands he sought,
Through life and death, the tribulations he fought.
Meeting in the red dust, amidst the city's light,
The True Sutra emerges, with heavenly flowers bright.
Tears of gratitude merge with the ancient earth,
The youth bows low, to find his soul's rebirth.
Bearing the sacred vow, in the final age of night,
Compassionate radiance, through the darkness, brings the light.