Beyond Perception

A cognitive hindrance. Ji Jue fell into quiet thought, at a loss for words. "Isn't that some religious term from before the Age of Chaos?" His history wasn't particularly good. "If I understand it right, it means... the more you know, the more confused you become, making it harder to reach the true essence of things?" "Understood that way, you're not wrong, but what I'm referring to is something completely different." Ye Xian weighed the optical disc in her hand, tossing it casually onto the desk. "Seventy years after the fall of the Eternal Empire, during the early days when the Federation and the Empire were being established, all sides were locked in bloody, mortal combat. Yet under the mediation of the first Heavenly Overseer and the first Earthly Warden, they forged a rare alliance to carry out a revision spanning the entire world. "Countless Celestial-Humans of the Heart Pivot and Aether lineages took part. Using texts, stories, music, paintings, and various other works as vessels, and expending a great multitude of blessings, they constructed a meme that circulates through every living soul in existence—adding an insignificant little corner to the vast, convoluted subconscious. "Call it a virus or a vaccine, it doesn't matter. It was given the name 'cognitive hindrance.' Before what the human heart can see and know, it erected a barrier." "Just... this?" Ji Jue instinctively looked down at the disc, crying out in shock. He wasn't merely stunned by such a bizarre existence; he was equally horrified by his own lack of vision. Why did it look like an ordinary disc no matter how he examined it, completely devoid of anything unusual? Ye Xian glanced at him as if looking at a fool. "The cognitive hindrance was completed over four hundred years ago. Over four centuries, its power has circulated through countless writings, speeches, music, and even spiritus and genetics, becoming ubiquitous long ago. "Understand that Heart Pivot suggestions can spread through the simple cadence of speech, and Aether's revisions can conjure something out of nothing. How could it possibly be so small? "This disc is merely a catalyst used to temporarily amplify its effect." She paused, then suddenly asked, "As a Celestial Chosen who underwent an Autonomous Awakening from ordinary mortality, surely you've felt it before?" Comprehension dawned on Ji Jue. "You mean... the divide between the Celestial Chosen and ordinary people?" Before the Celestial Conscription, Ji Jue had never imagined that he would one day become a Celestial Chosen; he had barely even heard rumors about such things. Yet after pushing open that door, the bizarre and dazzling world of the Celestial Chosen had rushed straight at him. Even now, he had not fully adapted to the change. Looking back, it felt profoundly uncanny. The Celestial Chosen and ordinary mortals clearly lived in the very same world, their lives tangled by countless threads, yet at the same time, they were as distinct as night and day. This was the so-called cognitive hindrance. Formless and intangible, like a wall cleaving the two worlds in two. Even if this wall was not airtight, even if a few hard kicks could break a hole right through it... This suggestion, acting upon the deepest layer of ordinary consciousness, caused people to instinctively shy away from such matters—or even grow accustomed to ignoring them without realizing it. Even if they caught wind of odd details, their subconscious would simply brush them aside. "Is it meant to keep the Celestial Chosen from disrupting the mortal world?" Ji Jue asked, puzzled. "Is that really necessary?" Inside the cities, where the Security Bureau maintained stability, things would naturally remain under control. Yet out in the chaotic wilderness beyond the walls, what order or rules were there to speak of? Not to mention that within the Federation, there were tens of thousands of independent islands across the Endless Sea. To say nothing of the Mid-Continent, where wars raged endlessly... The existence of the Celestial Chosen was no secret at all. Besides, how could unilaterally shackling the cognition of ordinary mortals ever stop the Celestial Chosen from running wild? "Naturally, that's because that isn't the point at all," Ye Xian sighed in mockery. "The quarantine and stability between the Celestial Chosen and ordinary mortals is merely a byproduct. Its true purpose isn't to conceal the existence of the Celestial Chosen, but something far deeper..." At that moment, the fall of sand in the hourglass abruptly accelerated, the ticking growing louder and more frantic, piercing the ears as if trying to drown out her words. In this hidden chamber outside the sensory reach of the cognitive hindrance, Ye Xian spoke slowly: "—*Lest Sovereign Virtue and Great Sin be lightly known to the world!*" *Snap!* In that instant, a third of the sand in the hourglass vanished into thin air, utterly spent. Amid his astonishment, Ji Jue finally understood. *This* was the true cognitive hindrance. To hide the existence of Sovereign Virtue and Great Sin. To erect invisible walls and barriers spanning the entire world, severing the resonance between souls and the mortal realm, thereby preserving the stability of the worldly plane to the greatest extent possible. Even though countless methods still existed to circumvent it, the hindrance and the wall endured, veiling the firmament and the abyss. From then on, Sovereign Virtue and Great Sin were both hidden from sight. "The fact that you've grasped the essence of Chunjun shows your understanding of the Path of Aether has reached the inner sanctum. You should understand the weight of Knowing, Seeing, and Naming." Ye Xian said slowly, "What can be seen can be known; what can be known can be perceived. The moment perception awakens in any intellect or soul, all that remains is a matter of distance." Ascension was the intrinsic nature of all sapient life; how could it be stopped? Sometimes, ignorance and numbness were blessings. Like antibodies, they created a quarantine between ordinary mortals and Great Sin. One had to remember that both Sovereign Virtue and Great Sin possessed immense power... If ordinary people knew, what would they choose? Even setting Sovereign Virtue and Great Sin aside, countless people got rich overnight, and plenty rose to high positions. Yet why were debauched, reckless villains everywhere, while virtuous men who paved roads, built bridges, and benefited the world were so rare? To say nothing of the Celestial Chosen—were the Celestial-Humans themselves all paragons of virtue? Heroes like Lord Tao, who gave their lives without hesitation, were ultimately a rare few. It wasn't hard to imagine: if the existence of Sovereign Virtue and Great Sin could be perceived by all... between casting oneself toward Sovereign Virtue and embracing Great Sin, which side would attract more followers? To build something required time, opportunity, resources, dedication, and resolve—none of which could be lacking. But to destroy was far too easy. Directly behind Ascension lay the Abyssal Depths; falling was far simpler than climbing. There were simply too many people who had reached a dead end, too many harboring bitter grievances, too many whose talents went unrecognized. If they couldn't have a good experience in this game... Then no one else should either! One could easily foresee that if the existence of Great Sin became known to everyone, then within a few years, the ones holding meetings in Midtown's council seats would be the Evil Transmutation Cult. When that time came, who would be righteous? And who would be evil? Ji Jue pondered in silence for a long time before he couldn't resist asking, "Cutting off Great Sin makes sense, but why shield Sovereign Virtue as well?" Could it really be just as that old bastard Tianlu had hinted to him? Sovereign Virtue and Great Sin... "..." Ye Xian fell silent for a moment, watching him as if vaguely perceiving the unspoken guess in his mind, yet offering neither confirmation nor denial. She merely gave a mocking smile. "In today's world, haven't the disasters wrought by Sovereign Virtue been even greater?" Ji Jue had no answer for that, though words lingered on his lips. "I see." Ye Xian let out a soft sigh, as if suddenly identifying the blind spot in Ji Jue's perception and discerning the root of the problem. "You're still too young." "What does this have to do with being young?" Ji Jue asked, baffled. "It has nothing to do with youth, but it has everything to do with age. Because you haven't lived enough years, you habitually take everything you're familiar with for granted. Just like how you can't sense anything wrong with the supermarket welcome chimes and jingles on this disc, simply because you're used to them." Ye Xian suddenly asked, "What does seawater taste like?" "Uh..." Ji Jue blinked in confusion, thought for a moment, and answered, "Salty?" "What if I told you that seawater was originally fresh?" Ye Xian sighed softly. "At the close of the Age of Chaos, in the early days of the Eternal Empire, someone slew a giant serpent in the sea. The serpent died but would not rot, stirring up mad tides again and again until its carcass was cursed and turned to salt. Ever since, all four seas have been salty." In the silence, Ji Jue hesitated, disbelief written across his face. *Teacher, you're not pulling my leg, are you?* Before he could respond, Ye Xian asked again, "What color is fire?" "Well... usually red, right? Though yellow and blue exist too?" For a question of physics, Ji Jue had no trouble answering. He could even give a detailed lecture on flame temperatures and spectral shifts. "What if I told you that fire was originally pure white?" "Huh?" Ji Jue froze again. "In the early Age of Chaos, the 'Fire Thief' among the monarchs sought to monopolize the Embers, scouring the world for every spark. As a result, the world fell into a long night that lasted fifty-one years. "The end result was that the Fire Thief played with fire and burned himself to death. "Ever since, fire has been crimson—because there is blood within it. "One hundred and ten years after the Fire Thief perished in the flames, the Web Weaver among the monarchs attempted to draw the entire world into his script and control, seeking to transcend Heaven's Mandate. "In the end, unable to bear the crushing weight of the world's destinies, he spun a cocoon around himself and brought about his own destruction... "Those are the origins of 'playing with fire and burning oneself' and 'spinning a cocoon to trap oneself.' Both come from the deaths of two Kings of Chaos. Heh. "Back then, Great Sin had not yet taken shape. Was it not Sovereign Virtue that caused it all? "On your first day through the door, I remember A'chun telling you that Sovereign Virtue is never swayed by human love or hate, right?" Ye Xian blew on the steam rising from her cup, unable to hide her mockery. "Not to mention the final emperor of the Eternal Empire, who exhausted the nation's strength in an ambitious delusion to use Tianyuan to coerce Sovereign Virtue and control all things... "What was the world like even earlier? "Have you ever seen it? "Haizhou is merely one corner of the Federation. You took a trip out for the Desert Sea Rally, but does that mean you've seen the whole Federation? To say nothing of the countless islands across the Endless Sea beyond the Federation, the nineteen subterranean and celestial cities of the Empire, or even the Mid-Continent... "This is why I wanted you to step outside. "Sitting withered in a workshop, even if you manage by some fluke to become a master, you'll still be nothing more than a frog at the bottom of a well. "If you ask me, this attitude of yours—taking everything for granted as natural and eternal—is the greatest arrogance of all! "Looking across all of history, everything you're accustomed to is merely a reflection of the moon in the water, an illusion, a fleeting bloom in a rare four-hundred-year span of peace. "Who can guarantee that once heaven and earth tear apart one day, this common sense of yours will continue to hold? "You've barely taken a few steps along the artisan's path, yet you already yearn to glimpse the view from the pinnacle. For you, it's far too early. "And far too ambitious for your own good." Ye Xian shook her head, sighing at last, "Just keep moving forward, Ji Jue. There's still a long road of hardships and scenery waiting ahead of you." In the quiet room, Ji Jue finally exhaled a long breath. He bowed his head. He felt a long-absent sense of defeat and regret. Yet for some reason, he also felt lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted—perhaps because under his teacher's sharp reprimand, he had recognized his own insignificance, casting aside the trace of arrogance and self-satisfaction that had lingered in his heart. It was nothing more than a long journey. Since he had already set foot at the starting line, the future was naturally something to anticipate. Still, recalling the hints and words from that old bastard Tianlu, and seeing the cognitive hindrance embodied before him in a simple optical disc, his thoughts churned uncontrollably. Was this... the "Lock"? No, surely it was more than just this. But it had to be a part of the Lock... The Lock. "What exactly is the Lock, though?" Amid his scattered thoughts, Ji Jue muttered to himself in a soft whisper. The instant she heard his bewildered murmur, Ye Xian's expression changed, and she shot to her feet. Immediately after, Ji Jue felt it—within the domain of the hourglass, the moment the words slipped past his lips, the seemingly empty semantic fabric shifted slightly. Following his consciousness, it pointed toward some colossal entity. It was as if an insight had been struck. That magnificent, boundless, and surging rhythm instantly registered in his consciousness, and a violent tremor surged forth from the void, rolling toward him! *Boom!* Before Ji Jue could even react, his thoughts were cut off. His vision went dark, and all he could hear was a succession of sharp hissing sounds, like chemicals reacting violently. Inside the hourglass, radiant light boiled and churned relentlessly, shuddering with violence. Fissures rapidly surfaced along the vessel and body of the hourglass, as though it would shatter into pieces at any moment. Fortunately, Ye Xian reacted in time, taking control and forcibly suppressing the disturbance. Snapping and cracking echoed throughout the study as ancient scrolls broke apart into powder. Most of the sand inside the hourglass vaporized instantly, leaving almost nothing behind—and even what remained was swiftly dissipating... From beginning to end, that magnificent entity Ji Jue had failed to fully perceive had not even noticed this tiny peek, showing no reaction whatsoever. What had nearly swallowed him whole was merely the natural aftershock stirred by its operation! Yet what chilled Ji Jue to the bone even more... was the look on Ye Xian's face. Furious and vexed. Gazing down at the scant few crystals of silence left in the hourglass, how could she fail to understand what had just happened? If not for her habitual caution in retrieving the Hourglass of Silence whenever speaking of confidential matters, the cognitive hindrance's shielding over the Lock would have been disturbed! Expressionless, she raised her head and looked toward Ji Jue. Sensing that he had caused some massive catastrophe, Ji Jue instinctively shrank back, offering a placating smile and falling as quiet as a cicada in winter. Yet that gaze wasn't meant for Ji Jue. It was directed at a certain scoundrel who, after secretly digging a pit for his rebellious student through his grand-disciple, had walked away holding back his laughter... *Oh, how I wonder what expression she'll have when she receives this gift.* *It's bound to be hilarious, right?* "I should have gone with Kanemoto back then and stabbed him twice myself..." After a long while, Ye Xian squeezed the words through her teeth. "Why hasn't that old bastard died yet?" In the end, it was Kanemoto who was useless! But that didn't matter. Her own sword was plenty sharp enough!