Above Destiny

Chapter 765 Boat

It sounds exaggerated that it went from a blank slate to a complete transformation in just a few months, but that was made possible by the supply from the entire coast and the support from the park.

If you still find it difficult to move forward despite Ji Jue's generous offer, then you should consider whether it's right for you.

Moreover, Yan Chang himself is a self-awakened elite of the highest virtue, which is even more powerful. His current progress is the result of repeatedly consolidating his foundation and basic skills, and he has only advanced to this level out of necessity.

There's no way around it; once the mind is clear and the thoughts are fully understood, enlightenment can be achieved overnight. The speed is incredibly fast, ridiculously fast, something others can't even dream of.

In comparison, Ember is arguably the slowest progressing of all the good things, second only to Eternal Gate.

Although Tianyuan's progress is slow, as long as there is a benefactor to promote him, he can rise rapidly. Even if the position and level are low, the power of some key positions can be frighteningly high! Bailu needs to be hunted, but as long as he can continuously defeat the strong with the weak and fight monsters of higher levels, then Brother Bailu will not care how many zeros he presses when he rewards him.

As for Ember... to put it another way, at the same time, the Desolate Ruins might have already completed their transformation and entered the rebirth stage, while Ember was still busy taking exams and striving for a craftsman's license and the association's human rights.

Some things are incomparable.

Ji Jue pulled a few books out of his pocket: "These are some of my recent insights and some revised techniques. Remember to take them to your brother."

"And what about these?"

Yan Chang looked at the huge book box behind Ji Jue with great curiosity.

"Collection of Wrong Answers"

Ji Jue placed a pile of books in front of him. "Watch him finish this book of past exam questions. I'll give you the answers later. For each question he gets wrong, he has to write an analysis of at least a thousand words. Once you've collected them all, hand them in to me."

"Ok."

Yan Chang nodded repeatedly, her smile gentle.

After all, my brother has been carrying a rocket launcher around and blowing things up every day lately, which is a bit too much. It would be good if he had more homework.

Come on, take a look.

Ji Jue led Yan Chang toward the enormous household deity who had been waiting for them.

In the vast, empty underground space, the household god revealed its vague outline, reached out, and pried open its chest. From the entanglement of countless spiritual substances that seemed like flesh and blood, blurry faces emerged. When those faces came together, they formed the outline of Bustaman.

Based on numerous bloodlines, through gradual replacements and substitutions, they built their own foundation from the chaos within the household gods, and then, relying on the power of the head of the household, gradually rose to prominence.

Through the gradual infiltration of numerous souls and the continuous covering with a large amount of his own memories, using both infiltration and staining methods, Bustaman can now be considered the household god himself.

Although life and death hung in the balance with Minkler's single thought.

The layered spiritual circuits from the inside out are the constraints and new framework imposed by Lou Feng. Even if it is based on the same principle, the difference between formal training and self-taught methods is immeasurable. Efficiency and effectiveness have been increased by more than double, and consumption has been reduced to one-third of what it used to be.

"It's very simple, not troublesome at all."

After a brief examination, Yan Chang reached out and began to read the countless memories that Bustaman had stored within the household god.

What came into view was countless days and nights of tireless, painstaking research, setbacks and failures, and even after racking his brains, he finally broke through what seemed like a trivial difficulty to Ji Jue, but due to his own aptitude, he could only get a tiny bit of insignificant results by following the correct answer.

At his advanced age, he spends his days mingling with the scoundrels of Qicheng, and at night he forces himself to take drugs and organizes parties. While everyone else is asleep, he drags his body, weakened by alcohol and women, taking supplements and stimulants, staying up all night researching everything about the household gods and his own plans...

They meticulously gather a wealth of materials to fill gaps in their research, and go to great lengths to conceal their true purpose and plans.

This kind of life began when he was twenty and began to have ambitions for the position of head of the family, and continued until his death.

Little by little, water dripping on stone will eventually wear it down.

Bustaman's life can be described as a life of forbearance, struggle, and perseverance.

But when Yan Chang put his hand down, his expression became puzzled.

"No problem, Mr. Ji."

He turned to look at Ji Jue: "Bustaman's memories and consciousness, though incomplete, are not discontinuous in terms of continuity, and there are no traces of influence exerted by the central nervous system..."

Ji Jue was immediately puzzled: "Is such a deep obsession normal?"

"emmmm..."

Yan Chang's expression immediately turned strange. "Mr. Bustaman, well, 'man'... is different from others. His love and desire for power far exceeds the ordinary or even the extraordinary level. It is almost more important than his own life."

It's less of an obsession and more of a fear of losing power.

The sweeter the power, the less one can tolerate losing that sweetness. The higher the position, the less one can tolerate falling from grace.

Bustaman, as the head of the family, is a typical political creature cultivated by the Chopra family over hundreds of years. He is power-hungry and will not relax his efforts in the slightest.

"Other than that?"

While feeling regretful, Ji Juexin waved his hand, pretending that he was being overly sensitive and seeing problems with everything: "Let me look at it again. If there are no problems, then forget it."

"Don't look at it."

Yan Chang shook his head decisively: "If we're talking about something strange, we've already found it."

The matrix [Ignorance] is fundamentally different from other directions of the Heart Pivot. After merging with Ascension, it is not good at controlling emotions and memories, but instead values ​​inner obsessions and desires more.

See through illusions and end worries.

If one cannot even see the source of obsession and the root of worries, how can one talk about 'severing all delusions, ignorance, and inverted dreams'?

What he excels at is tracing the origins of this obsession, digging deep to find the source of this ambition and fear... digging into the very roots of the soul to sever, correct, or soothe that initial obsession.

When he grasped this thread, which even Bustaman hadn't realized, countless fragmented memories were already connected. Tracing back, seeking the origin.

More complex memories and obsessions than a giant tree, it begins to recurse forward, rewind, trace back to the source, forward, forward, forward.

Countless fleeting images whizzed past my eyes.

Those vague yet vivid memories rushed in and then vanished without a trace. Crossing one fault line after another, what was finally unearthed was the source of the obsession that Bustaman had long forgotten.

"found it!"

Yan Chang smiled slightly, turned around, and extended his hand to Ji Jue.

Without a doubt, Ji Jue reached out and gripped the boy's hand tightly, opening his senses and soul. He let the boy hold his hand and suddenly pulled, causing his soul, consciousness, and senses to fall as if passing through a tunnel.

But in a very short moment, an unexpected scene unfolded before us!

In the quiet afternoon, the sunlight was blurry, and many details were distorted, twisted, and contradictory, but the paintings in front of me were so clear.

It's like being in a museum.

Ji Jue descended into Bustaman's memories. Looking around, Bustaman, who followed closely behind, was also stunned, in disbelief.

This is a memory from when he was sixteen!

"Do you still remember?" Ji Jue asked.

“It seems a bit…” Bustaman looked around, stopped next to a handsome young man, and examined his appearance: “This is me in the past.”

Ji Jue glanced at her face and couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Even if memories come with a beautifying filter, Old Deng's self-beautification is a bit too much!

"Where is this?" Ji Jue asked.

“It was probably the family gallery. I remember now, it caught fire a few years later, burning down many of our treasures. My father was furious for a long time.”

Bustaman sighed softly, following his former gaze to the wall.

That huge oil painting.

This is a corner of the gallery, clearly neglected, yet it was a place that Bustaman lingered in as a young boy—above the dark sky, amidst a raging storm, a dilapidated ship on the verge of collapse sails through the turbulent waves, forging ahead relentlessly!

The painting skills are good, but there is no groundbreaking innovation. It's too much like a craftsman's work, and at best it's just realistic.

The name of the painting is written on a bronze plaque below the frame.

Theseus

Yan Chang snapped his fingers, and the stagnant memories began to flow again.

Theseus?

As a boy, Bustaman asked in bewilderment, "Why is he called that?"

"It is said to be the name of a hero with divine blood, before the chaotic era, even earlier. Ah, back then, the heroes of the earth were said to be descendants of the gods."

The administrator standing beside Bustaman sighed with emotion: "According to the surviving documents, this hero moved a huge rock when he was young, obtained the weapon left by his father, killed villains along the way, saw through the witch's treachery, went through countless dangers, and finally inherited the throne."

His greatest achievement was venturing deep into the labyrinth and slaying the ferocious minotaur…

The administrator kept recounting past myths, but the memories were no longer clear. What was clearest was the old man's final words of reflection: "However, what this king later became most famous for was a philosophical paradox, perhaps the origin of the painting's name?"

"A paradox?" Bustaman asked, puzzled.

"Yes."

The administrator seemed to laugh, sighed softly, and looked at the huge oil painting: "Imagine a brand new sailing ship goes out to sea, goes through many vicissitudes, and is constantly repaired, maintained, and has its damaged equipment replaced... As time goes by, the original sailors on board grow old and leave the ship, but new sailors are constantly added to the crew."

When the last piece of deck belonging to the original sailboat was replaced, and the last original sailor died of old age, could this ship still be considered the original ship?

The boy looked puzzled and remained silent, as if deep in thought.

“…It should count,” Bustaman said decisively.

"is it?"

The administrator looked over, seemingly curious: "Why?"

Whether the crew and equipment are in their original condition is irrelevant...it doesn't matter at all.

Bustaman looked up at the painting, at the sailboat still sailing forward amidst the raging storm, and said resolutely, "The important thing is that the ship is still the same ship, the same ship that can continue to brave the winds and waves—"

In that instant, along with the words, what emerged from the boy's heart was an understanding he had never felt before, and the source of an obsession he had never realized in his entire life.

Bustaman's eyes lit up.

As long as the boat is still a boat, that's enough!
Whether it's the original form or not is completely unimportant.

The important thing isn't even the ship.

But...

My ship!
(End of this chapter)