Douluo Dalu: Ascension Across the Realms

"What is it that my Dao still lacks…?" Muttering to himself, Chen Xiaoming had a feeling deep in his heart—if he could only figure out what

"What is it that my Dao still lacks…?"

Muttering to himself, Chen Xiaoming had a feeling deep in his heart—if he could only figure out what was lacking, he would finally be able to comprehend the true essence of his Karma Domain.

Otherwise, no matter if he lingered here for another ten, twenty years, it would likely all be in vain.

"Seems like you've hit a wall."

A figure appeared silently. It was the same elder who had earlier parted ways with Wang Lin. Yet now, the lascivious look was gone. In its place gleamed deep and unfathomable eyes, as a majestic aura radiated from him.

"Yes. I keep feeling there's something missing…"

Chen Xiaoming glanced briefly at the man—just a mid-stage Ascendant cultivator. Nothing worth noting. But his insights into the Dao intrigued Chen Xiaoming nonetheless.

"I walk the same path of Mortalization… yet why do I feel something is off?"

He poured himself a glass of fruit wine, flicked his fingers, and sent the floating cup drifting toward the elder. Taking a sip himself, he began to speak.

As other mountains' stones may polish jade.

The elder caught the cup. A flash of brilliance sparked in his eyes. He quietly sat down and listened intently.

Originally, he had only returned for one last look, unwilling to give up completely. But when Chen Xiaoming opened his eyes, he immediately sensed a disturbance in the man's enlightenment of Domain.

Then, when he felt the subtle Immortal Qi radiating from Chen Xiaoming, he instantly recognized the other's cultivation—astonishingly, higher than his own.

This revelation stirred other thoughts within him.

An extra Ascendant powerhouse could prove immensely useful in the times to come. And now, this person stood at a bottleneck. If he helped him through, that goodwill might serve him later.

Time passed slowly.

Chen Xiaoming didn't say much, yet the more he spoke, the more the elder's brow furrowed, gradually sinking into contemplation.

When everything was said, Chen Xiaoming looked over at the elder, who remained lost in thought, and waited in silence.

Only after a long time did the elder awaken from his musings. Exhaling slowly, he turned to Chen Xiaoming and spoke in a soft tone.

"I believe I know what you're missing."

"Oh?" Chen Xiaoming's eyes lit up. He hadn't held much hope—but to think this elder truly discerned what was lacking in his path?

He eagerly leaned forward and asked, "Then tell me, what do you want in return?"

A gleam flashed in the elder's eyes. But he soon shook his head, cast a glance at Chen Xiaoming, and stepped toward the door.

"All I ask is that, when I need it, you lend me your strength once."

"Agreed."

Chen Xiaoming replied without hesitation. The elder, satisfied, nodded slightly and then said,

"The Dao cannot be spoken. I can't directly tell you what you lack."

"But I can tell you… how to find it."

Chen Xiaoming frowned, but instinctively believed the man. If he had simply been handed the answer, he might have doubted it.

"…Who are you?"

The elder looked deep into Chen Xiaoming's eyes and gave three words before vanishing into a wisp of shadow without another sound:

"Who are you?"

The Dao cannot be told; it must be realized on one's own.

Though the elder had seen through Chen Xiaoming's dilemma, he could not give a direct answer—doing so would leave an imprint upon Chen Xiaoming's path, distorting it. Thus, the answer had to be found by Chen Xiaoming himself.

"Who am I…?"

Repeating the elder's parting words, Chen Xiaoming frowned deeply.

Who am I? I'm Chen Xiaoming. What else is there to question?

Could the elder have been misleading him?

How could a question like that help him find the missing piece of his Dao?

Could what was missing… be himself?

Suddenly, a tremor ran through Chen Xiaoming's soul.

The part of his enlightenment that had remained obscured all this time—like clouds parting to reveal a clear moon—instantly became bright and sharp.

"So that's it!"

In that moment, his aura surged within. A formless pressure filled the medical clinic. But just as quickly as it came, Chen Xiaoming retracted it, a joyful gleam in his eyes.

"Who am I? I'm Chen Xiaoming!"

He murmured excitedly. Finally, he understood why he had felt something missing despite ten years of Mortalization—it was himself.

Wang Lin had walked his own path to enlightenment. But Chen Xiaoming… had been following Wang Lin's path.

He knew that Wang Lin had achieved insight into karma and reincarnation through the Mortalization path. From the very beginning, Chen Xiaoming had copied that—opening a clinic next to Wang Lin's.

Wang Lin had spent ten years in this quiet place, walking the path of the mundane. So did Chen Xiaoming.

Wang Lin carved wooden figurines, etching his realizations into them. Chen Xiaoming bore witness to the cycles of life and death through his practice, hoping to grasp the same principles.

In retrospect, Chen Xiaoming had felt no issue with this imitation. When reflecting on these ten years, he had always unconsciously compared them with what he knew of Wang Lin's journey in his past life.

On the surface, it seemed he had also walked the path of Mortalization—but in truth, he had not.

What he had mortalized was not his life—it was Wang Lin's mortal life!

"How laughable… Ten years of Mortalization, and I became someone else's mortal."

He laughed at himself bitterly.

Ten years of his life, and the road he walked had led to someone else's shadow.

But now—now that he had awakened—Chen Xiaoming finally knew what he lacked.

A sense of self, of freedom, of being true to his own nature.

He had confined himself here for ten years, just to follow Wang Lin's path. How absurd.

Since when had he, Chen Xiaoming, become such a person?

Sweeping his divine sense outward, he found Wang Lin still in meditative reflection. Chen Xiaoming let out a soft laugh.

Over the past decade, through his own deliberate actions, he had unknowingly become a second Wang Lin. His experiences mirrored Wang Lin's far too closely. Though he had learned much about life, death, and the cycles of karma, he had lost his true self.

Back at the teahouse, watching the elder dance among the worldly dust, Chen Xiaoming had felt a flicker of understanding.

And now—thanks to the elder's timely words—he had fully awakened.

He now had a plan for the path of Mortalization he would walk.

Wang Lin attained enlightenment through becoming truly mundane, grasping the cycles of life in the quiet, ordinary flow of the world.

But he, Chen Xiaoming, would not resign himself to being ordinary. Even if he lived as a mortal for a lifetime—he would be a Saint of Medicine, healing the world with his art.

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