Under One Person: My Inner Realm Connects to All Worlds!

Chapter 58 Understanding the Way of the World
That night, yet another temple was destroyed.

Furthermore, powerful figures and wealthy merchants were successively slaughtered, and Han Yun spread evidence of their collusion with Japanese pirates all over the streets.

Han Yun's reputation is getting worse and worse.

Strangely enough, the people in the places he had "ravaged" actually fared better. Temples were destroyed, land was returned, and tenants, no longer exploited, gradually began to thrive.

Some people began to secretly call him "Han Zhenren" (Han the True Man), while others erected a longevity tablet for him and worshipped him as "the True Lord who punishes evil and protects the people."

When Han Yun heard this title, he simply shook his head and sighed, "True Lord? I can't accept that title."

He continued forward, like a sharp sword, wanting to cut through this hypocritical world.

The martial arts world and the imperial court issued one kill order after another, but those chivalrous heroes who came to "eliminate evil and protect the righteous" often couldn't even catch a glimpse of him.

The few who managed to catch up with him only added a few more corpses to the pile.

Until one day, he met an old Taoist priest in a dilapidated Taoist temple.

The old Taoist priest, with his white hair and beard, was squatting in the corner cooking a pot of thin porridge. When he saw him come in, he didn't even look up: "You've come?"

Han Yun raised an eyebrow: "You know me?"

"The infamous Old Demon Han, who doesn't know him?" The old Taoist priest smiled, ladled out a bowl of porridge, and handed it to him. "Want some?"

Han Yun took it and drank it all in one gulp. In reality, he used his innate Qi to envelop it, and after it entered his mouth, it moved directly into his inner space.

"Aren't you afraid of me?" he asked.

"What are you afraid of?"

The old Taoist priest slowly stirred the porridge in the pot: "Weren't all the people you killed deserving of death?"

Han Yun remained silent.

The old Taoist priest continued, "In this world, whether it's righteous or wicked, it's already commendable that you dare to do it."

“But I can’t see clearly,” Han Yun suddenly said. “The more I kill, the less I understand.”

"What don't you understand?"

"I don't understand why those people, who are clearly being oppressed, still protect those who oppress them."

The old Taoist priest smiled: "Because they are afraid."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid we won't even have the last spoonful of porridge to offer as charity," the old Taoist priest sighed. "When people are starving, how can they distinguish between good and evil?"

Han Yun clenched his fist.

"So, are you going to continue killing?" the old Taoist priest asked.

Han Yun looked up and gazed into the distance: "I don't know."

The old Taoist priest stood up, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "Then follow your heart, extend your innate knowledge, and when your heart is bright, what more is there to say!"

Han Yun felt that these words sounded familiar and asked, "Daoist Master, what is your name?"

"My surname is Wang, but I've long forgotten my given name. I'm already a dead man in this world!" The old Taoist priest's eyes were full of vicissitudes, yet exceptionally bright.

When Han Yun left the Taoist temple, it was already dawn.

He stood on the mountaintop, gazing at the rising sun, and suddenly smiled.

It also dispels the confusion in my heart.

As Han Yun's departing figure watched him go, the old Taoist priest said in a loud voice, "Only by unifying knowledge and action can one achieve true understanding!"

The old Taoist priest's voice echoed through the mountains, but Han Yun's figure had already disappeared into the morning mist.

The rain in Jiangnan comes quickly and goes quickly. Han Yun trudged across the muddy official road, his boots stained with blood and dirt. His sword remained sheathed, for the next killing might be just around the corner.

New rumors began to circulate in the martial arts world: Han Yun was not human, but a vengeful ghost.

Otherwise, why did the imperial court mobilize three thousand armored soldiers to surround and suppress him, yet not even a single piece of his clothing was cut off?
Why could those renowned masters, who were known as "martial arts grandmasters," not last more than three moves against him?

But Han Yun knew that he was just more ruthless and clear-headed than others. One day, he passed through a small town. In a teahouse at the town entrance, several yamen runners were banging on the table and laughing wildly. A skinny child was kneeling at his feet, clutching half a moldy cake tightly in his arms.

"You little bastard! How dare you steal my rations?" The scarred constable in the lead swung his fire-and-water stick. "Today I'll teach you how to spell the law!"

In the instant the wind howled, a dark shadow swept past the teahouse.

The bailiff's maniacal laughter froze on his face as his wrist was severed at the root, blood spurting three feet away.

The child looked up in a daze and saw a blood-dripping knife, and behind the knife, a pair of eyes colder than the coldest stars.

Han Yun stepped on the rolling water-fire stick, and the wood chips were crushed into dust under his feet. There were just too many such things, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't manage them all.

But I'll save as many as I can, and as long as I have a clear conscience, that's enough.

However, he also became increasingly clear about one thing: the evil people in this world cannot be completely killed unless a better order is established.

But should I do that?

The wheels of history roll ever onward, and I am but a tiny ripple in the vastness of the universe, as insignificant as dust.

Han Yun is actually a rather selfish person. Within his capabilities, he is willing to do certain things, but beyond his capabilities, sorry, he doesn't want to and can't manage them.

All this killing now is actually just for myself... to refine my mind!
The mortal world is vast and boundless.

Entering the mortal world, one understands the ways of the world.

That night, the county government office was set on fire.

Some people saw golden seal script floating in the firelight, which turned out to be the county magistrate's account book of collusion with Japanese pirates. The pages were burning in mid-air, illuminating half of the night sky.

The people stood silently on the long street, flames flickering in their pupils. They looked at Han Yun in terror, just like Lord Ye who loved dragons but was terrified of them.

On one hand, they looked forward to Han Yun killing those powerful and wealthy merchants so that they could share in the wealth and food; on the other hand, they feared that Han Yun might also raise his sword against them.

Finally, a hunched old man knelt down shakily and kowtowed heavily towards the fire: "True Lord, have mercy!"

Standing on the eaves of the county government office, listening to the calls of "True Lord" rising and falling, Han Yun suddenly remembered the old Taoist priest's words.

When people are extremely hungry, how can they distinguish between good and evil?

Han Yun is not a saint. What kind of enlightenment is he trying to give to the masses? The masses are not awakened by the times, and he cannot be awakened at all. It is a tragedy that one has light in one's heart but darkness all around.
This world has never been Han Yun's responsibility, and besides, the night is too deep and too dark; even if you break through the long night, it is still a long night, and you can't see a single ray of light.

In short, the time is not yet ripe.

Han Yun saw through the essence of things, which is why he was unwilling to get bogged down in the mire. Only in the midst of slaughter did his Dao heart mature and become resilient at a rapid pace.

Some might criticize him for killing people without considering the consequences, but Han Yun just smiled and said: I'm willing, what's it to you?
Could he really be so virtuous as to go all the way, becoming a nanny and a saint?
It arises from a thought, it moves with the heart; if you can't stand something and want to kill, it's that simple.

------

He slaughtered a million soldiers in Jiangnan, his sword at his waist stained with blood.

After a bloody battle, I'm exhausted and weary.

My mind is clearer now.

Wash away the superficialities and return to your true self.

In the days that followed, Han Yun lived only for himself.

He went to Mount Hua, broke a thousand swords with his bare hands, and mastered the sword techniques of this world; he also went to Wudang to pay homage and admire Zhang Sanfeng's martial arts; he joined the Demonic Cult and seized the Tai Chi Fist Manual; he defeated the young Feng Qingyang and obtained the Dugu Nine Swords.

It must be said that the young Feng Qingyang was somewhat similar to Linghu Chong. He didn't care about his identity as a "demon" and cheered and drank heartily after hearing about his own deeds.

Let me explain.

It's not that I don't understand, it's that I don't want to. The protagonist could easily create a stir and then change the world in the Ming Dynasty. But what happens after that change?
A country is there, and you have to govern it. You don't know how much energy you have to put in. It's like a quagmire, and you get deeper and deeper into it. Does the protagonist still have time to seek the Dao and cultivate?
As the saying goes, it's impossible to please everyone; some people want to see enlightenment and cultivation, while others want to see the change of dynasties.

The main theme of this book is walking the path, refining the mind, seeking the way, and pursuing truth. It is not about anything else. All the experiences in life and all the scenery along the way are resources for attaining enlightenment.

The author has already made it very clear, and the outline has been finalized long ago. If it doesn't meet your expectations, then there's nothing the author can do.

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(End of this chapter)