The Book That Shines by Night: The Yongming Era

I'm the number one slacker in the Three Realms. My senior brother cheated his way into becoming a Golden Pearl Immortal. Thanks to him, I became a freeloader on the immortal rolls. Until one day, he said “Zhaoye, I dreamed you were dead.” (Not a fluffy, fast-paced wish-fulfillment story. The writing is fairly lighthearted, but the plot... is destined not to be easygoing. :-D) (A clueless heroine × a noisy tail × a cold senior brother × an arrogant demon emperor × a devoted general × an emotionless emperor × a mysterious alien life-form?) The Art of Lying Down and Winning (by the student, Zhaoye) Someone asked: What does a cultivator cultivate? The answer: Freedom. Look at the people of today cultivating immortality like ants scaling a mountain, competing to be faster, to climb higher, to push themselves to the brink of death for the tiniest gain. And yet the wind at the summit is as fresh as the wind at the foot of the mountain. The moon above the clouds is the same moon beneath the eaves. To “lie down and win” is not laziness. It is seeing through the illusion of competition. Do not compete over who has more immortal power. Let immortal energy flow to you naturally, like spring water seeping into moss. Do not seize blessed grottoes and paradises. Treat the whole world as a soft pillow and blanket, and the space within three feet of you as your cultivation ground. Do not fear inner demons and tribulations. Let stray thoughts come and go like clouds; when the mind is clear, a bright moon appears of its own accord. The true winner does not rise above all living beings. While they are still asleep, I have already awakened and lie watching their dreams. It is not about living forever. Every breath is the Dao, every meal and sleep a meditation, and life and decay are both flowers blooming and leaves falling. Thus it is said: Cultivating immortality is like climbing a mountain, everyone sweating blood as they ascend the steps; I cultivate the art of lying down and winning, and the mountain comes of its own accord to rest in my arms. If you ask how to test it When rain falls on my shoulders, I don't dodge. When wind passes my ear, I smile. Even when thunder strikes me in the face, I keep snoring. (Approved in red by Huangmu: The reasoning is unusual, but the experience described is genuine. However, an examination hall is not a bed. Lying down to win is prohibited. You are still ranked in the bottom three, as a warning to others.) Preface to The Travels of Great Fool I once used my meager power to open the path to immortality, build cloud stairs, and establish order in the Three Realms. My original wish was simple: let all beings draw on the world's vital energy to escape hunger and heal their wounds and illnesses, so that those adrift in a sea of suffering might find a raft, and those lost on cold nights might find a lamp. But my power was too weak. As fragile as a cicada's wing, it could not stop the petty bloodshed of the mortal world; As small as a mayfly, it could not prevent cultivators from killing one another over immortal power. Long ago, I built the Immortal Realm as a ship to ferry people across. Now I see that the ship has become a new battlefield. The immortal power I bestowed was meant to be a tool for tilling and sowing, but it has become a weapon for slaughter. My strength is spent. Spent watching the zhilie devour my homeland, while I had no means to destroy it; Spent holding the scorched soil of my home in my hands, while I could not restore it; Spent after a thousand years of cultivation, still unable to cultivate a “whole heart” I know pain, yet cannot feel it deeply; I see sorrow, yet can only grieve from afar. I now call myself “Great Fool.” It is no false modesty. I mean it. How high is the sky? I do not know. How thick is the earth? I cannot tell. How deep is the sea? I have no idea. Eyes shut and ears closed, I stumble along blind and foolish beyond measure. So I emerge from the darkness and return to the dust. I will measure the breadth and narrowness of the Three Realms with my own feet, take in the joys and sorrows of all beings with my eyes and ears, test the warmth and cold of water and fire with my battered soul, and shatter the calamity of the zhilie with my own body. I have no other purpose on this journey. I seek only an answer: If immortal power is not the answer, what is the cure? If the Heavenly Dao is silent, who can answer? If the long night never ends, what light will shine forever? This book records the journey of a fool through the long night, searching for the tracks of the stars. If the wise laugh at me, I shall gladly bear it. Great Fool, beneath the roots of the Yueyumu, in the year 2143 of the Immortal Calendar Theme: I swear to rid the world of evil with my own hands