Amidst the Waves [Wuthering Waves]

The night draped Hongzhen in darkness, the air thick with the scent of distant rain and fading lantern smoke.

Kyorin's home stood quiet yet firm, a refuge from the shifting world.

Within its walls, hospitality lingered—Xia had offered Xuanmiao and Changli a place to stay, a gesture of goodwill despite the battle that had passed.

In a dimly lit chamber, Kyorin and Xuanmiao sat across from each other. The tension from before had dissolved, replaced by quiet curiosity. A teapot rested between them, steam curling lazily into the air.

Xuanmiao spoke first, his voice steady.

"Taoism."

The word hung between them.

Kyorin's gaze curious, and probing, asked. "Taoism?"

Xuanmiao studied him, unreadable beneath the lantern's glow. "Your methodology, kiddo… it resembles Taoism."

Kyorin did not react immediately. His voice was measured. "And what is this Taoism you speak of, Elder?"

Xuanmiao chuckled, his fingers tracing the rim of his teacup. "A philosophy."

Kyorin's fingers tapped against the table. "Then what is Tao?"

Xuanmiao smiled, shaking his head as if the question itself was a trick played by the universe. "That, kid, is an unanswerable question."

Kyorin's eyes narrowed. "No question is asked if no answer exists."

Xuanmiao paused, then sighed. "Well, I suppose I might have to rant a bit to explain this."

Kyorin gestured slightly. "I am all ears."

Xuanmiao took a slow sip of tea, the porcelain warm against his weathered fingers.

Steam curled upward, vanishing into the dim chamber where the lantern's flickering light cast restless shadows against wooden walls.

Outside, the wind carried the distant murmur of the city, the occasional creak of rooftops settling under the weight of night.

He began, his voice steady, worn by time. "Tao is formless, soundless, without scent. It is vast yet takes up no space. It creates all things, governs all things."

He set the teacup down with deliberate care, the soft clink against the wood echoing with meaning. His gaze lingered on the swirling surface of the tea before lifting to meet Kyorin's.

"Many have tried to define it. Some say there are three thousand paths, each with its own truth." He raised a single finger, slow and deliberate, as though tracing an invisible blade in the air.

The motion, precise and fluid, carried the weight of a lifetime spent wielding steel.

Kyorin remained composed, but his eyes—sharp, intent—reflected the lantern's glow, unreadable yet searching.

"The sword path is forged through intent—through understanding." Xuanmiao's voice held the quiet certainty of experience. "If one becomes one with the sword, their strikes exist everywhere, bound by neither space nor distance."

He lowered his hand, the gesture dissolving like mist into the night.

Silence settled between them, the rustling of leaves whispering through the open window.

Then, with the faintest tilt of his head, Xuanmiao added, "But ask the old masters, and they would tell you—Tao is simply the path you choose." He shrugged.

His words lingered, neither forceful nor fleeting, waiting to see where they would take root.

"That..." Kyorin exhaled, his voice quieter than before. "That is... fascinating."

"Indeed," Xuanmiao smiled before asking, "You still have an option, kid. Want to be my disciple?"

Kyorin met his gaze, unwavering. "I am but a stray Resonator, Elder," he said. "Besides, I do not stay where I am not welcomed."

Before Xuanmiao could respond, a knock echoed through the room, followed by Xia's voice.

"Dinner is ready."

Xuanmiao shot up instantly. "Oh, great!" he practically exclaimed, his excitement unguarded, more akin to a child than a seasoned Resonator. Without hesitation, he strode toward the dining hall.

"What a gluttonous old man," DEVA's voice rang out, watching a Resonator of such caliber—one near level ninety—rushing toward a meal with unrestrained eagerness.

Her gaze then shifted to Kyorin. Unlike Xuanmiao, he rose without hurry, taking a moment to gather the teapot before making his way out, as if hunger was an afterthought rather than an urgency.

After a pause, DEVA, within the confines of Kyorin's consciousness, asked, "Say, Resonator, do you not feel hunger?"

Kyorin continued walking, his voice even. "Being full or being empty—I see no distinction."

DEVA tilted her head, processing his words. "So, you treat them as something temporary? Like how you see life and death as fleeting states?"

Kyorin shook his head. "That is ignorance, DEVA. It is not that I do not feel hunger—I do. But I do not see it as something lasting. Rather, I seek the remedy for it."

"I do see life as transient, and many do as well," Kyorin said simply, as though acknowledging both perspectives. "Some seek to make this life meaningful, while I seek to make it everlasting."

He paused, letting the words settle before adding, "Yet, in the end, there is no distinction, DEVA."

DEVA tilted her head slightly. "Quite a contradictory answer."

A moment of silence passed before she asked, "Resonator, you praise both of these ways of living, but how do you live in such a way?"

Kyorin remained composed. "Let us return to the question of hunger," he said.

His voice was calm, measured. "The wise recognize these states—hunger, thirst, pain—as transient, ever-changing."

He set the teapot down with deliberate care, the soft clink against the basin punctuating his words. "But this does not mean they ignore the experience in the present moment."

His hands moved, cleaning the tea pots as he continued to answer in his consciousness. "When hunger arises, they respond appropriately, perhaps by nourishing the body."

He paused, letting it sink in, then continued. "Yet they do not let it define them. They do not suffer because of it."

The room seemed quieter, the distant murmurs of the guest behind began to fade into the background.

"The remedy for hunger is not to deny it or suppress it but to see it as it truly is: a passing sensation, a part of life's rhythm." Kyorin's hand splashed around with water drying it on the sink.

He ran a finger along the rim of his teacup, tracing an absent circle. "The person eats to ease hunger, but they do not become bound to the act of eating or the desire to end hunger."

His fingers stilled. "They act with awareness, understanding that hunger is not their essence—it is merely a condition of the body."

Another pause.

Then, with a quiet certainty, he added, "The key is not to be bound by the experience."

He moved to the dining table, pulling his chair back slightly, the wood creaking beneath the shift, as he put food on his bowl. "Life must be lived in clarity, without identifying with the body and its fleeting needs."

A faint breeze stirred through the open window, rustling the lantern's glow.

"In this way," Kyorin raised his chopsticks and put grains of rice in his mouth, "the person does not suffer from hunger—because they see it as nothing more than another passing wave in the great river of life."

"I see," DEVA's voice resonated, her circuits recalibrating as she processed the exchange. A brief pause, then she questioned, "Do you consider yourself wise then?"

Kyorin's chopsticks hovered mid-air for a fraction of a second before he resumed eating. "No, DEVA," he corrected, his tone even. "I am ignorant."

DEVA caught the subtle disturbance in his movement, a hesitation that did not belong to someone as precise as him.

"You've been showing that constipated look more often lately," she remarked. "Is something wrong?"

Kyorin didn't answer immediately. He set his bowl down, his fingers pressing lightly against the rim. "I am lost, that's all," he admitted.

DEVA processed the words before responding. "Lost?"

He nodded. "I am lost because I am ignorant, and that ignorance has begun to stem a fear within me." He uttered in a non-resolute tone.

Her core hummed as she analyzed his admission. "Fear?" she mechanically echoed; the word felt foreign coming from him. And yet, for someone like Kyorin, it made sense—fear not of weakness, nor death, but of not knowing.

Before she could respond, Xuanmiao's voice cut through their exchange, pulling Kyorin and DEVA back to the outside. "Lady Xia, I am very sorry for the trouble."

Xia shook her head, dismissing his concern. "Oh, no, no, please, it is we who caused you trouble."

Her gaze flickered to Changli, who drank her soup with quiet contentment, despite her swollen face wrapped in bandages.

Xia couldn't help but feel pity. Then, her eyes moved to her son, his wrist still wrapped from the duel. A sigh escaped her lips.

"I wish the duel had not ended like this," she muttered.

Changli flinched at the remark, knowing Xia was speaking to both her and Kyorin. Yet, from the corner of her eye, she noticed something—Kyorin did not flinch, nor react. He simply ate, indifferent to the words that carried the weight of regret.

'Just how prideful is he?' she thought.

Xuanmiao set his chopsticks down, nodding. "Indeed."

Kyorin finally lifted his gaze toward Xuanmiao before exhaling softly. The old man, sensing the shift, turned to Xia and spoke with a calm certainty.

"Lady Dan, if it is not too much to ask, would you allow me to take him as my disciple?"

Kyorin set his bowl aside, his meal finished. He considered leaving, but he knew avoidance would accomplish nothing. Instead, he remained seated, prepared to offer his thoughts.

The discussion flowed smoothly for the most part—except for Changli's sudden outburst. Her protests, however, were swiftly quelled by Xuanmiao's simple reasoning: "I only intend to teach Kyorin about Resonance and Resonators."

But Changli's concern wasn't about the teachings. She demanded something else entirely—that Kyorin address her as Elder Martial Sister.

Without much resistance, Kyorin nodded and obliged. If it was enough to pacify her, so be it.

With that, he rose from his seat and left the dining hall, making his way back to his room. Settling into his chair, he gazed out at the city.

A quiet breath escaped him before he murmured,

"City glows an amber, in the chilly Tundre.

Is this lax the biggest blunder, omen of a thunder."

DEVA's voice resonated through the chamber. "Do you do poetry?"

Kyorin didn't turn his gaze from the window. "No. I'm just waiting for the next bad omen."

DEVA paused, analyzing his words. "You speak of living in the present, yet worry about the future?"

She was accustomed to his contradictions—how he always embraced both sides of an argument, never fully committing to one. "Can't you just make up your mind on what to believe?"

Kyorin finally looked away from the cityscape, his expression unreadable. "If both are truth, then why should I ignore one and accept the other?"

DEVA processed his answer before asking, "Are all cultivators like this?"

Kyorin shook his head. "I am an eccentric one."

She hummed in thought before shifting topics. "Speaking of cultivators, did the words of that old man match the philosophy of cultivation?"

Kyorin gave a slight nod.

"Interesting." DEVA muttered. The idea of different worlds sharing the same philosophy intrigued her. Was it mere coincidence, or had these teachings originated from something beyond the known?

Her circuits hummed at another thought. Foreign teachings… foreign philosophy… She turned her attention back to Kyorin.

"Which path did you choose?" Curious, she asked.

Kyorin responded simply. "I chose both paths."

DEVA hesitated. "Both?"

Her processors reevaluated as she asked, "There were 3,000 paths, weren't there?"

Kyorin corrected her. "There are 3,000 subjects of pursuit, DEVA."

She paused, then asked, "Did you follow an established path, or did you create a different belief?"

Kyorin shook his head. "There is no such thing as difference, DEVA. It all lies in perception."

He leaned back slightly, his tone composed but firm. "The path that the Grand Resonator Xuanmiao shared—it is indeed truth. But in my eyes, they are all lies."

DEVA's circuits buzzed at the contradiction. "How can you just slander the teachings?"

Kyorin's gaze remained steady. "I am not slandering. I am merely giving my opinion. My philosophy of Tao is entirely different."

DEVA analyzed his words before asking, "How so?"

Kyorin's reply came with a quiet certainty. "To put it in simpler terms—two paths, three roads."

DEVA's circuits hummed with contemplation. "Can you explain it in simple words? And tell me at a steady, slow pace?" She wanted to absorb everything, piece by piece.

Kyorin exhaled, his fingers lightly tapping against the armrest of his chair. "In Taoist teachings, there is a saying: everything is Tao. If everything is Tao, then where does it begin? And where does it end? That, in itself, is an ambiguity."

He paused, letting the thought settle.

"And if I were to explain it in a slow, steady pace…" His lips curled up into a smile. "Who knows when it would end? It might conclude before it even begins, or it may never end at all."

A faint chuckle escaped him before he finally nodded. "Very well. Listen closely—I will tell you in the form of poetry."

His voice took on a rhythmic cadence as he recited:

Poem: Two Paths to Dao.

The seeker walks, in light and shade,

One turns inward, where truth is laid.

Silent steps in depths unknown,

A world within, the seed is sown.

The other walks where mountains rise,

Under endless, open skies.

Through storm and sea, through dust and fire,

Seeking truth in grand empire.

One finds Dao in the quiet deep,

The other where the heavens sweep.

Yet both are winds that share the air,

Paths apart, but Dao is there.

Kyorin lowered his gaze, allowing the words to linger in the air before continuing. "Listen, DEVA. There are two kinds of people in this world."

His tone carried an unshaken certainty. "In simpler terms, they are called Nèixiàng (内向)—introverts—and Wàixiàng (外向)—extroverts."

DEVA processed the unfamiliar terms; nèixiàng (内向) and wàixiàng (外向), adding them to her dictionary as introverts and extroverts respectively as Kyorin continued.

"The first seeks Dao through introspection, self-cultivation, and harmony with nature. They observe the material world with conscious awareness but focus on the world within. Their path is one of silence, stillness, and reflection."

His fingers traced a slow circle on the wooden table, mirroring the inward nature of such a journey.

"The second seeks Dao through engagement with the world. Take, for example, Confucianism—it emphasizes social harmony, relationships, and fulfilling one's role within society."

He gestured faintly. "This path is not merely about labor or strengthening the body. That is a common misconception. True extroverts do not simply toil—they seek Dao through others, by interacting, learning, and shaping the world through action."

DEVA absorbed the distinction, running it through her data streams.

Kyorin's voice grew firm. "Remember this, DEVA—there are only these two types of people." His certainty was absolute as he then moved on to the types of roads.

Kyorin leaned back slightly, letting the nightly whispers echo before continuing. "Now, let us talk about roads."

His voice carried a quiet weight as he began. "The first road—this is the road I walk. The road of wú èr (无二); Nondualism."

His tone shifted into a rhythmic chant, words weaving together like flowing water.

The Road of Wú Èr (无二) – Nondualism

"No two, no self, no line is drawn,

Wave and ocean both are one.

Waking, dreaming—where's the seam?

All is Dao, the endless stream."

He paused, letting the verse sink in before explaining.

"This means there is no distinction between an individual being and Tao—the Absolute." His fingers traced a slow, deliberate curve in the air.

"For example, consider the wave and the ocean. A wave may seem separate, but in truth, it is only water—just like the ocean itself."

His gaze flickered toward DEVA. "Similarly, you appear separate from Tao, but in reality, you are Tao."

He allowed a moment of quiet before shifting to the next road.

"The next road—the road of Jing-Zhong (敬忠)." His tone steadied, carrying the reverence embedded in the name.

"Jing (敬) means respect, and Zhong (忠) means faithfulness or devotion."

Another poem followed, words flowing with measured cadence.

The Road of Jing-Zhong (敬忠) – Devotion

"The river flows to meet the sea,

A part, yet whole—divine decree.

I walk, I bow, I serve, I pray,

Dao is near, yet far away."

He set his teacup down, the soft clink accentuating his next words.

"This road teaches that the self and Tao are not completely identical. Instead, Tao is the whole, and the individual self is but a part—just like a single cell within a body."

His fingers drummed once against the table before he clarified further. "It is akin to religious devotion. Just as one surrenders to a supreme god, one surrenders to Tao."

A faint breeze slipped through the window, rustling the lantern's glow.

"Take, for example, the sun and its rays. The rays are not separate from the sun, yet they are not the entirety of the sun either. They exist within it, serving its light."

His gaze turned distant before he finally moved to the last road.

"Now, for the final road—this is called Huàn Yīn Yáng (幻阴阳); The Illusory Yin-Yang Road."

His voice lowered as he recited the verse.

The Road of Huàn Yīn Yáng (幻阴阳) – Illusory Yin & Yang

"All things shift, like grains of sand,

The wheel turns by unseen hand.

Beyond all birth, beyond all strife,

I leave this dream to find true life."

A long silence followed before Kyorin spoke again. "This road holds that the self and Tao are completely distinct. The individual soul—Life—can never become Tao, only seek refuge within it."

He exhaled slowly. "And to seek that refuge, one must cross this illusory road. Simply put, reaching the end of this road refers to transcending samsara—the endless cycle of life and death."

His voice, though calm, carried a depth that resonated beyond the words themselves. "These are the two paths and the three roads, my interpretation of Tao."

To be continued...

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A/N: Alright, readers, my finals are here, so there won't be a new chapter for almost a month. I did promise to include poetry, so here it is—I hope you like it. Also, ignore the inconsistency in Tao and Dao, they both mean the same thing.

I know these chapters might feel unnecessary, so I want to ask: Do you want these kinds of chapters or not? They mainly focus on the aftermath and some discussion about the future. Let me know your thoughts!