If a grand trajectory was ordained upon the highest heavens, then upon descending into this world, it had to be tempered through the harshest dust of the human realm.
The Illusory Quest — Worldly Medicine and Physical Decay
After leaving his homeland and its impoverished memories behind, Hoa Long plunged into the bustling labyrinth of the metropolis, carrying a grand vow locked deep within his subconscious. He chose to enter the field of pharmacy, burying himself in texts of herbal lore and secular remedies.
At the time, the mortal mind of the child bearing the Dao-mark harbored but a single desire: to find a way to help his older brother, who was besieged by inner demons—a ruthless depression that was wasting his brother's life away day by day. He wanted to use the knowledge of worldly medicine to ease his brother's suffering.
Yet the maze of the crimson dust was far more convoluted than the pages of medical books.
The secular world churned with fierce struggles for daily bread, coin, fame, and desire, weaving an invisible and suffocating net around every mortal life. With no family lineage or fortune to support him, Hoa Long was quickly ground down by the relentless gears of survival.
To afford his tuition, buy medicine for his brother, and support his aging mother, he shouldered pressures far exceeding the capacity of a mortal frame. He worked from dawn until late into the night, taking on grueling assistant jobs at pharmacies and herbal-processing workshops. At noon, he would hastily swallow a bowl of rice beside the roadside; at night, he confined himself to a cramped rented room to complete analytical reports beneath the dim light.
But while he ran himself ragged against adversity, the polluted mortal mire began to strike back at his body.
Before his brother's inner demons could find a way out, Hoa Long's own physical frame collapsed. Chronic coughing fits drained his vitality. Nightly fevers burned through his chest. A severe illness silently erupted within him, ravaging his body until even the simplest tasks became a struggle.
During those long, solitary nights, he would look into the mirror only to see a gaunt and pale face. The twin scars upon his cheeks throbbed with agony—a stark reminder of the mysterious destiny that had followed him since childhood.
It was then that he began to understand a truth hidden beneath the surface of mortal medicine: earthly herbs could treat the physical ailments of ordinary men, but they could never touch the deepest suffering of a soul drowning within the Desire Realm.
His body needed healing. But something far deeper within him was starving.
The Light of Qigong and the Emptiness of Consciousness
It was during those desperate days, when his body had been depleted almost to its absolute limits, that a small spark of celestial design revealed itself. Across the human realm, the movement of seeking the Way through qigong had begun to flourish, offering hope to countless souls searching for health amid the burdens of mortal life.
Driven first by an instinct for self-preservation, Hoa Long began searching for qigong books and instructional materials circulating through the markets. He locked himself inside his dilapidated rented room, mimicking the illustrated postures and regulating his breath.
Gradually, the physical pain began to ease. The flowing energy brought temporary relief to his weary flesh, and for a time, he believed he had discovered a path capable of restoring what the mortal world had taken from him.
Yet deep within his ancient consciousness, a vast and unfillable emptiness remained.
Those physical movements and rudimentary qigong books lacked a true Heart Law to guide the mind. They could adjust the outer shell of flesh and blood, but they could not touch the primordial spirit. They could not explain why a soul must endure tribulations, nor could they reveal the true path to enlightenment.
Night rain began to fall outside the window, washing away the clamor of the city. Hoa Long sat cross-legged upon an old mat, his breathing heavy, his hands gripping a thin qigong book he had just purchased. The twin scars upon his cheeks did not feel cool; instead, they burned with a strange heat.
Gazing through the darkness beyond his window, he asked his inner heart a question that seemed to echo far beyond the walls of that humble room:
“Is this truly the path to liberation? Or am I merely a pitiful creature scrambling from one cage to another amidst the delusions of this world?”
He did not yet know that the question itself was already a thread leading toward his awakening. Nor did he know that, from the depths of shadow dimensions, the Old Forces had begun to turn their gaze toward him.
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They had watched the child bearing the Dao-mark struggle against poverty, illness, and the limitations of mortal knowledge—and they knew that physical suffering alone would never be enough.
The next trial would have to strike at the place where a mortal heart was most vulnerable. It would come through love, through kinship, through attachment.
The Thirty-Four-Year Vortex
Time in the mortal realm flowed like a fleeting shadow passing a window. Year after year, Hoa Long continued forward. The primordial spirit sealed within his physical frame accumulated layer upon layer of worldly dust, while the memory of anything beyond the mortal realm remained buried beneath the weight of ordinary existence.
By the age of thirty-four, he seemed to have transformed into an entirely different man.
The dreams of his youth had been locked away beneath years of hardship. Armed with his pharmacy degree and the capabilities forged through years of struggle, he threw himself into the commercial world like a relentless warrior. He worked on reports, managed projects, and moved between two or even three corporations at once, constantly pursuing the next opportunity.
His objective had become simple: he wanted wealth. Not merely for himself, but to protect his aging mother, help his brother, and secure a dignified life for the family he hoped to build.
Thus, without realizing it, the child who had once sought a path beyond the mortal world became increasingly entangled within it.
❖ Banquets for clients.
❖ Contracts driven by profit.
❖ Endless calculations over money and responsibility.
❖ The trivial anxieties of daily survival.
Each was only a small thread. Together, they began weaving an invisible net around his heart.
The Crucible of Kinship
Then worldly destiny knocked upon his door. Hoa Long married.
His wife had been raised in comfort and indulgence, protected from many of the storms that had shaped his own life. Her father was a powerful official, accustomed to the authority and conventions of the secular world. He loved his daughter deeply and wished to keep her within a secure life sheltered from hardship.
To him, Hoa Long was a man who had risen from humble origins through struggle and therefore needed to establish himself firmly within the conventional path of an ordinary man.
Hoa Long accepted the marriage. When their daughter was born, she was still only a tiny infant. Holding his child in his arms, Hoa Long believed that he had finally touched the peaceful shores of ordinary happiness. He poured himself into his work and strove to provide the best life he could for his small family.
For a time, the home was filled with the fragile warmth of a young family.
Yet beneath that apparent happiness, something within his ancient Dao-heart gradually became clouded. The more fiercely he pursued money and security, the more distant that forgotten inner self seemed to become. He did not realize that the mortal world had already begun to reshape him.
His original desire had been to save his family. But little by little, the means became the goal. He worked harder, earned more, attended more banquets, and accepted greater responsibilities. And every new success seemed to demand another sacrifice from the quiet part of his soul.
His wife, accustomed to comfort and protection, could never fully comprehend the strange searching anxiety that lived within Hoa Long. Whenever she saw her husband staring silently into empty space or contemplating matters far beyond daily bread and money, she felt an unease she could neither explain nor resolve.
She wanted a stable husband, a prosperous home, and a secure future for their child. Hoa Long wanted those things too. But somewhere beneath the surface, an ancient question still remained unanswered: What was the true purpose of life?
He rarely spoke of it. Instead, he buried himself deeper in work.
The First Separation
When their daughter was still only a few months old, circumstances led his wife to take the child to her parents' home for a period of time, allowing the grandparents to help care for mother and child.
For Hoa Long, the sudden quiet of the small house was strangely profound. There were no childish cries, no footsteps, no family conversations—only the faint hum of the city beyond the walls. He remained behind alone.
He did not yet understand that this brief separation would become the turning point of his life.
To the Old Forces, the arrangement was another carefully placed strand within the unseen web of destiny. They had already tested his body through poverty and illness; they had buried his aspirations beneath worldly ambition; now they would begin testing the deepest attachments of his heart.
But the final trial had not yet arrived.
That night, Hoa Long sat alone in the small house, staring into the darkness. For the first time in many years, there was no external noise powerful enough to drown out the questions buried within him.
The old emptiness returned. His pharmacy degree had not answered it. Money had not answered it. Qigong had not answered it. Even the family he loved could not completely fill the void.
He lowered his head and remained silent for a long time. Deep within the darkness of his consciousness, the ancient Dao-heart stirred once more.
But it had not yet awakened. It was only waiting.
CANTO 49 — SURVIVAL AND THE CRUCIBLE OF ATTACHMENT
O'er herbal lore he bent his frame,
Bound by a mortal wish to ease the pain.
Through poverty and illness, his mortal body endured,
While ancient memories remained obscure.
Through qigong's light, his broken strength returned,
Yet for the missing Heart Law, his spirit yearned.
The years flowed on through commerce, kin, and strife,
As mortal dust entangled every thread of life.
A wife, a child, a home of worldly grace,
Yet ancient questions lingered in their place.
When mother and child departed for a time,
Silence revealed the questions of his mind.
The Old Forces watched from realms unseen,
Unaware of the awakening yet to be seen.