Li Yuan sat in the Realm of Questions, feeling the new stability of the Water Core Consciousness he had just understood.
But in that tranquility, a mischievous question began to tickle his mind.
What if I tried something else?
The Water Understanding as the Core Consciousness was safe, proven, and harmonious. But was it the only way? Were there other possibilities he had never explored?
Li Yuan's inner eye turned to one of the most... unpredictable landscapes in his Zhenjing.
The Chaos Understanding.
That landscape had no fixed form. Sometimes it looked like a swirling storm with infinite fractal patterns. Sometimes like a mist moving without direction. Sometimes like water flowing both up and down simultaneously. Sometimes like a fire burning inward.
Chaos is part of the Dao, Li Yuan mused. The Dao that can be explained is not the eternal Dao. The Dao that can be predicted is not the true Dao.
A dangerous curiosity began to grow within him.
What if I make Chaos my Core Consciousness?
Li Yuan knew very well that this was an... unconventional idea. A Core Consciousness was usually chosen from a stable understanding that could provide a solid foundation for the others. Water, Silence, even Sky—all had relatively reliable natures.
But Chaos?
Chaos had no form. No pattern. It was always changing. Always unpredictable.
Making Chaos the Core Consciousness meant choosing instability as a foundation. Choosing constant change as the only constant.
But wasn't that more honest about the nature of the Dao?
Li Yuan began to experiment carefully.
Slowly, he began to shift the center of his consciousness from the calm ocean of the Water Understanding toward the unpredictable vortex of the Chaos Understanding.
The change was immediate.
Li Yuan's inner world, which was usually like a calm lake with small ripples on its surface, suddenly became... different.
It was like a sea that was always turbulent. Sometimes its waves were as high as a tsunami, sometimes as calm as oil, sometimes swirling like a giant whirlpool. Never the same from moment to moment.
And strangely... this didn't feel disturbing.
Li Yuan realized that his inner world was not breaking or being destroyed by this instability. On the contrary, he felt... free. Free from the need to be consistent. Free from the expectation of being predictable.
With Chaos as his Core Consciousness, Li Yuan felt his mind begin to change in a way he had never experienced before.
One second he thought with the gentleness of Water—flowing, adaptive, accepting. The next second he thought with absolute silence—empty, peaceful, without movement. Then suddenly with the passion of Anger—fiery, protective, ready to fight to protect the weak.
Everything changed without logical order. Without a smooth transition. Like the wind suddenly changing direction without warning, or clouds changing shape from a dragon to a mountain to a sea in a matter of breaths.
And this actually felt... natural?
Li Yuan began to understand something paradoxical about the nature of the Dao. Perhaps consistency was an illusion created by a mind that was afraid of change. Perhaps unexpected change was the natural state of a truly free consciousness.
The effect on his other understandings was immediately felt.
The Water Understanding, which usually flowed calmly and in a controlled manner, now became a wild storm and an unpredictable tsunami. Sometimes gentle as morning dew, sometimes hard as a waterfall plunging from a cliff.
The Silence Understanding, which usually gave stable peace, now became a sudden and total silence, then suddenly broke with a surprising commotion.
The Emotion Understanding became an unpredictable up-and-down wave. Li Yuan could feel immense happiness, then suddenly deep melancholy, then joy like a child—all within seconds.
The Memory Understanding began to bring up random pieces of memory. Lila's smiling face. Anna's angry voice. The scent of Elena's cooking. Marcus's laughter. All appeared without chronological order, without a clear context.
And the passive effects...
Li Yuan felt the aura radiating from him change dramatically.
If before, with the Water Core Consciousness, the people around him felt calm and peaceful, now they would feel... unsteady. Not in a dangerous sense, but in a way that made them question the assumptions they had always considered certain.
Someone who was usually sure about their life plan might suddenly feel the urge to try something completely different. Someone who was usually orderly might feel the impulse to act spontaneously. Someone who was usually serious might suddenly want to laugh for no reason.
This is very dangerous, Li Yuan realized. But it is also... very alive.
With Chaos as his Core Consciousness, Li Yuan was no longer predictable—not even to himself. He did not know how he would react to a certain situation until the situation actually happened.
Stability is instability. Consistency is inconsistency.
The paradox did not break his mind because Li Yuan had spent thousands of years learning to accept paradox as a natural part of the Dao.
When he accepted that the Dao was constant change, that the only thing certain was uncertainty, then Chaos as his Core Consciousness became... plausible.
But is this sustainable?
Li Yuan began to feel the incredible intensity of this way of life. Every moment brought the possibility of radical change. Every second was an adventure into the unknown territory of his own consciousness.
Interesting? Very.
Exhausting? Also very.
With Chaos as my core, I become the unpredictable Dao.
Li Yuan felt a unique power in this approach. No enemy could prepare a strategy against him because even he himself did not know what he would do. No situation could truly surprise him because he already lived in a state of constant surprise.
But...
What about the people who love me?
Li Yuan thought of the Millbrook family. Anna, who needed consistency to feel safe. Thomas, who relied on his emotional stability. Lila, who needed a reliable figure.
With Chaos as his Core Consciousness, Li Yuan would become... unreliable. Not in the sense of not caring or being disloyal, but in the sense that the way he expressed his love and care would constantly change in unpredictable ways.
Sometimes he might show affection with incredible gentleness. Sometimes with overwhelming enthusiasm. Sometimes with a deep silence. Sometimes in ways that were completely unconventional.
Is that fair to them?
Li Yuan felt a deep dilemma. Chaos as his Core Consciousness might be more honest about the nature of the Dao. Perhaps more authentic about the true nature of an ever-changing existence.
But living with others required a certain level of predictability. Love required a certain consistency to be reliable.
Maybe there is a time for Water and a time for Chaos.
Li Yuan began to consider a third possibility: flexibility in choosing a Core Consciousness according to the situation and needs.
When he needed to be a stable foundation for others, he could use Water as his Core Consciousness. When he needed to face a situation that required extreme creativity and spontaneity, he could switch to Chaos.
Or maybe... maybe he could learn to integrate both.
A more ambitious idea began to form in his mind. What if he could have a Core Consciousness that was... hybrid? That could be stable when stability was needed, but could also be chaotic when chaos was necessary?
Li Yuan felt that the experiment with Chaos as his Core Consciousness had opened up a new perspective on spiritual flexibility that was possible.
In the Realm of Questions, new questions began to emerge:
"Can a person have more than one Core Consciousness?"
"Can the Core Consciousness change according to need?"
"What happens if stability and chaos are integrated into a single system?"
Li Yuan smiled with an unpredictable smile—sometimes gentle like water, sometimes wild like a storm.
The journey to understand the true nature of spiritual cultivation had just entered a territory never before explored.