Jiang Yan's words about crossing tribulations left Zhongli and the others silent for a long while.
When they had watched him face the tribulation earlier, it had seemed effortless, as though it had cost him little strength.
None of them had expected that so many dangers lay hidden beneath the surface.
Every step along that path was like treading a tightrope in the clouds—one slip, and you would be dashed to pieces.
At last, Zhongli let out a slow, quiet sigh.
"To defy the will of Heaven is naturally to court mortal peril. That much holds true in every world."
"But perhaps that is precisely why your kind—cultivators—are so powerful."
Jiang Yan did not refute him. After all, if one endured such bitter hardship without receiving the reward it merited, what point was there in cultivating to become an immortal?
He paused. A flicker of something complicated passed through Zhongli's amber eyes.
As if hesitating to speak, he finally asked,
"Let me ask… cultivation—"
Jiang Yan instantly guessed the question behind his words. Smiling faintly, he nodded.
"That's right. Cultivators suffer no wear."
Zhongli's gaze turned distant. Beside him, Cloud Retainer and the others seemed at a loss for words.
"…I see."
Zhongli gave a wry smile and exhaled.
"In that respect… I truly envy you."
Jiang Yan's voice was calm as he explained:
"Cultivators seek to draw power from Heaven and Earth, and naturally, their lifespan comes from Heaven and Earth as well."
"Since that is the case, their life must be under their own control."
"In other words, so long as one survives the heavenly tribulation, within the span before their lifespan truly ends, their fate rests entirely in their own hands."
"This wear you speak of is, to be blunt, a shackle Heaven and Earth place upon your kind—the long-lived races—merely to restrain you."
"And thus, it cannot touch those of us who strive to break Heaven's laws entirely."
"To put it in terms you might accept: we cultivators are a people who ignore rules. Especially Heaven's rules—we dislike those most of all."
"Moreover, if I'm not mistaken, your so-called wear strikes at both soul and Dao-heart, does it not?"
"When it flares up, you lose all recognition of kin, and fall into a madness."
Zhongli nodded gravely. His lips pressed together before he asked, with some hesitation,
"From the perspective of a cultivator… would that be akin to what you call a Heart-Tribulation of the True Self?"
Jiang Yan was silent for a moment, then inclined his head.
"Somewhat similar, but essentially different. The Heart-Tribulation is a calamity imposed by the Dao itself—a debt that cultivators must repay."
"Your wear, in truth, is far more… man-made."
He did not elaborate, but the amused glance he cast toward the sky made Zhongli understand far more than was said.
A nameless anger stirred in Zhongli's chest. His fists tightened, but in the end, he said nothing.
"Do you know how many years a cultivator has lived by the time they reach the Heart-Tribulation of the True Self?" Jiang Yan asked suddenly, in a low voice.
The question drew the curious gazes of everyone present.
Jiang Yan slowly raised four fingers.
"Four thousand years?" Cloud Retainer muttered. That seemed reasonable enough.
After all, the erosion of Azhdaha had begun to manifest after roughly four thousand years, and Zhongli's own wear had been accumulating for three thousand.
But Jiang Yan shook his head.
"At the very least—four yuanhui."
"Yuanhui? What is that?" Ganyu asked, puzzled. The term sounded strange to her ears.
Jiang Yan spread his hand.
"A cultivator's years are long—long enough to watch entire worlds perish with one's own eyes."
"In time, the concept of 'time' itself loses value."
"Thus, we call the span from a world's birth to its destruction a yuanhui. One yuan is twelve hui, one hui is thirty yun, one yun is twelve shi, and one shi…"
He paused, sweeping his gaze over their faces before saying slowly,
"…thirty years."
Zhongli's palm clenched, and fine cracks spread through the teacup he held.
"One yuanhui is 129,000 years. So, for your Heart-Tribulation of the True Self…"
Jiang Yan shook his head lightly.
"Any cultivator who has reached that step has long since become a great figure of the Immortal Realm—each with a lifespan to rival the heavens, shining alongside the sun and moon."
"In the turn of a hand, worlds rise and fall. Time has lost all meaning to them."
"And only at that point can one truly feel the terror of the Heart-Tribulation, when the sands of time scour the soul."
"What cultivators fear most is not combat, but questioning the Dao—and questioning their own heart."
"But… such matters are still far from me. I am but an unremarkable, as-yet-unascended little cultivator."
Zhongli studied Jiang Yan from head to toe, sensing the faint aura of a higher lifeform that clung to him.
Not yet ascended?
Very well—perhaps they simply cultivated a different kind of "immortal."
He gave a rueful smile in his heart. But still, his mind was filled with questions he longed to unravel. The more they spoke, the more he felt he might gain something remarkable.
So he said,
"Earlier, you repeatedly mentioned the Dao. What exactly is this 'Dao'?"
Everyone noticed that, upon hearing the question, Jiang Yan's expression instantly grew solemn.
Gone was the earlier easy warmth tinged with casual grace.
"The Dao… is the Dao."
"It can be anything, or nothing."
"It can be the one and only, or infinite in number."
"I cannot truly introduce it to you—only say that everyone's Dao is different. The Great Dao is myriad and without hierarchy."
"But only by finding your own Dao can you truly forge a broader future."
"Cultivation… is the cultivation of the Dao itself."
Zhongli seemed to grasp part of it, but to Cloud Retainer's ears, Jiang Yan's words were nothing more than lofty, empty nonsense.
She wrinkled her beak in faint distaste.
If not for the current chaotic situation—still unclear in her mind—her unparalleled conversational skills would have been unleashed long ago.
"I have one more question…" Zhongli said after wetting his lips, then added apologetically,
"Forgive me if this is a bit forward. You just crossed a tribulation today—you must need rest."
"If you're tired, we can speak of the rest another day."
Jiang Yan shook his head, lightly tapping the stone table. His wide black cloud-sleeves stirred a breeze that seemed entirely unintentional.
In the next moment, the tea on the table refilled itself as though time had flowed backward. Around them, trees bloomed into strange and wondrous flowers in that passing wind.
Fragrance filled the air, and the faint fatigue in Ganyu and the others melted away, leaving them refreshed.
Jiang Yan smiled warmly.
"A small application of cultivation arts—no cause for surprise."
"There's no need to put this off. A tribulation alone is hardly exhausting."
"What we are doing now is something cultivators often do—discussing the Dao."
"Learning from the experiences of others, and verifying one's own Dao."
"To discuss the Dao with the longest-lived ruler of Teyvat is, for me, an opportunity not to be missed."
Zhongli felt a quiet satisfaction at the words, though his hooded cloak concealed any outward sign. He merely inclined his head slightly.
"You flatter me… To witness a cultivation tradition from another world is an honor for me as well."
"Then I'll continue…"
He paused to think for a moment, then asked slowly,
"How does one walk the path of cultivation?"
The question immediately sharpened the attention of Cloud Retainer and the others.
Most of the previous discussion they had not fully understood, nor particularly cared about.
But this—this seemed to touch on the very root of a cultivator's strength.
And that was something that mattered greatly to them.