Inside the City God Temple, a destitute scholar was telling a group of children a story of myths and supernatural tales.
“He proclaimed that the Jiuhua Emperor descended from the clouds, stating that the monster was actually his own guardian beast who had secretly come to the mortal world. He then pleaded with the cultivators to show mercy and allow him to take the beast back to his cave dwelling for strict discipline…” The scholar, with a sallow complexion, struck a dramatic pose. “Well then, if you wish to know what happens next, you’ll have to wait for the next installment!”
The children looked disappointed. One of them, puzzled, asked, “Master, does it mean that only the monsters belonging to gods or Buddhas need to be disciplined, while other monsters will be killed?”
The scholar hesitated, unsure how to respond. After telling stories for so many years, this was the first time he had heard such a perspective—it seemed like a perfect, yet unsettling, distillation of a troubling truth.
Children, innocent and untouched by worldly affairs, could often see through issues that adults took for granted.
As he was about to explain, a sudden, deafening roar of water and the collapse of the riverbank echoed in his ears.
…
The great river surged eastward, carving through towering mountains and vast plains. Since ancient times, the terrain had remained largely unchanged, persisting through the eras of the Zhonggu and continuing into the period of conflict between the Jin and Zhou dynasties.
The secret treasure location obtained by the Zhenwu Sect was known as the “Jiangxinyuan,” though its exact location was unknown. Based on clues left by the Zhenwu Deity and rumors regarding the sect’s founding patriarch’s inheritance, Meng Qi narrowed the search area to a stretch of river spanning three thousand li. After arriving via a teleportation array, he flew slowly at high altitude, observing the subtle changes in the world’s qi, and using the Zhenwu Deity’s methods to search for the faintest clues leading to the entrance.
After some time of searching, Meng Qi suddenly noticed that the riverbank ahead had been breached by the raging waters. White waves crashed through the city gates, flooding a city and sweeping away many civilians. What had once been a bustling metropolis was now submerged, with scenes of devastation everywhere—fathers losing sons, wives losing husbands, children losing mothers. The atmosphere of sorrow and despair coalesced into dark clouds.
Beams of light soared into the sky as numerous cultivators at the Waijing stage either rescued survivors, repelled the floodwaters, or repaired the city’s protective enchantments, each drawing upon the power of heaven and earth to display their extraordinary abilities.
Splash!
Amid the surging waters, a woman struggled in the murky flood, clutching a wooden basin in her arms. Inside the basin, an infant wailed, not yet a year old.
The floodwaters grew fiercer, wave after wave crashing down. The woman gradually lost her strength, her body growing heavier and colder, on the verge of being pulled under along with the basin, causing it to overturn.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed the basin away with one last effort, casting a lingering, loving gaze before being swallowed by the floodwaters. Her final thought was a hope that the powerful cultivators above would soon rescue her child.
Such tragedies unfolded in many places submerged by the flood. Though numerous Waijing cultivators were present and capable of rescuing many people, the lack of suitable vessels to carry the survivors created a gap between rescue and安置, making it impossible to save everyone at once.
After witnessing several horrific incidents, a Waijing cultivator in flowing robes took a deep breath, summoned his Hou Tu dharma body, clenched his fist, and unleashed all his power in a single, downward strike.
Boom!
The fist absorbed the Qi of Earth, growing larger and larger, before slamming into the riverbank, halting part of the floodwaters.
The earth trembled and rose rapidly, not only repairing the collapsed section but also continuing to rise, attempting to block the flow.
Something was wrong—how could there be a flood at this time of year? Meng Qi felt puzzled. With a single step, he instantly appeared above the city from thousands of li away.
At that moment, the floodwaters surged violently, the waves parting as a monstrous creature emerged—dozens of zhang long, with a snake-like body, four legs, and a small horn on its head. It was clearly a Jiao dragon!
The dragon opened its mouth, and the water surged upward, forming a whirlpool, attempting to swallow the Waijing cultivator whole.
So this was a great demon causing the disaster! Meng Qi instantly understood. With a flick of his left hand, his sleeve flared open, and the world darkened. One by one, the drowning civilians flew into his sleeve, leaving only the dragon behind.
At the sight of the immense power of the “Qiankun Sleeve” technique, the dragon realized its danger. It twisted its body, attempting to dive back into the depths of the river.
But Meng Qi’s right hand now held a five-colored immortal sword. With a gentle downward slash—
Boom!
The instant the dragon plunged into the water, it collided with an unseen barrier as if hitting an invisible wall. Its head reeled violently, while the surrounding void appeared to collapse inward, twisting into chains and cages that bore down with overwhelming pressure. Despite unleashing its full might and deploying every skill at its disposal, escape remained impossible.
(Note: The translation preserves the original’s vivid imagery and sense of confinement while adjusting syntax for natural English flow. Key adaptations:
1. “虚空” rendered as “void” to convey cosmic emptiness
2. “折叠” translated dynamically as “collapse inward/twist into” to capture spatial distortion
3. “万钧之力” interpreted as “overwhelming pressure” for idiomatic impact
4. Maintained the dragon’s futile struggle through parallel structure in the final clause)
“Great Immortal, please spare my life!” The dragon quickly shifted to a begging tone.
Meng Qi looked down at the ruined city and felt the loss of many lives. With a solemn expression, he said, “When they begged for their lives, did you listen?”
The dragon sensed Meng Qi’s firm resolve to kill and realized pleading was useless. It snorted coldly, “I am the mount of the Great Wisdom Holy Monk of Hanchan Temple. I sneaked out while he was in retreat, and I didn’t mean to cause such chaos. If you want to punish me, the Hanchan Temple’s law enforcers will handle it. There’s no need for you to overstep. Do you really want to provoke the Hanchan Temple?”
“Great Wisdom Holy Monk is a disciple of Maitreya Buddha, one of the Four Holy Monks of the Real World. If you kill me, you must consider the consequences!”
He secretly crushed a collar around his neck.
Meng Qi smiled coldly, “Maitreya Buddha is a savior of the world, full of compassion. Why would he protect a demon who harms people?”
Seeing Meng Qi’s unyielding resolve, the dragon shivered in fear and hurriedly said, “Even if Maitreya doesn’t care, Great Wisdom Holy Monk will. Last time I sneaked into the mortal world and devoured countless lives, he still retrieved me and punished me with a hundred years of wall-gazing. You, you, what are you going to do?”
Meng Qi had no patience to listen further and prepared to strike.
At that very moment, the void shimmered with a pure white radiance as a white lotus blossomed, gradually transforming into a lotus throne. Seated upon it was a young novice monk with rosy lips and pearly white teeth, yet emanating an overwhelming aura of power.
The young monk, Haijing, immediately shouted, “Venerable Sir, please spare its life!”
Seeing Haijing, the dragon acted as if it had found salvation, pretending to weep bitterly, “Brother Haijing, save me! He wants to kill me!”
Haijing’s face darkened as he pointed at the ruined city below, “Look at the mess you’ve made! How many more sins have you added to your karma? This time, you must make amends, or I’ll be the first to punish you!”
He turned to Meng Qi and sighed, “Esteemed Sir, this dragon is the mount of Great Wisdom Holy Monk of Hanchan Temple. It was once a demon king who plagued the land, and its wild nature is hard to tame. It has repeatedly committed offenses, and it is indeed our fault for not supervising it properly. I beg you to hand it over to me so I can return it to the temple for strict discipline, ensuring it never causes harm again.”
“Just strict discipline? And the lives lost here are to be forgotten?” Meng Qi pointed at the devastation below, his expression cold.
Haijing chanted, “Amitabha. The dead have passed on, but this dragon is still a living being. Venerable Sir, can you truly kill it out of vengeance?”
“Hanchan Temple will hold a water-land dharma assembly here to guide the souls of the deceased to the Pure Land. As for the dragon, it will use its remaining life to perform good deeds and atone for its sins. Isn’t that better than killing it outright?”
“Exactly!” The dragon nodded eagerly. Brother Haijing’s words were indeed sharp.
Meng Qi paused thoughtfully before asking, “This isn’t the first time it’s escaped from the temple, is it?”
“No, it is our fault at Hanchan Temple. We will ensure stricter discipline in the future,” Haijing replied candidly, echoing his earlier words.
Suddenly, Meng Qi smiled slightly:
“It has happened again and again. Since your Hanchan Temple cannot discipline it properly, allow me to do it for you!”
As he spoke, his right hand moved, and the celestial sword trembled. The void cage surrounding the dragon abruptly constricted.
“Help…” The dragon barely managed to cry out before being crushed into a pile of flesh paste by the layers of void pressure. Its lingering resentment and disbelief echoed in the air.
He had dared to disregard the face of the Hanchan Temple!
Disregarding the Hanchan Temple meant disregarding Great Wisdom Holy Monk, and disregarding Great Wisdom Holy Monk meant disregarding Maitreya Buddha himself!
Haijing was a moment too late in intervening. His heart trembled with anger, and fury burned in his eyes, “You… you are truly cruel, with no trace of compassion!”
“The dragon is now dead. I will recite more sutras for its soul and perform good deeds. Isn’t that also an act of compassion?” Meng Qi replied with a half-smile, echoing Haijing’s earlier words.
“You… you!” Haijing was momentarily speechless.
Meng Qi continued, “Are you, young Master, planning to punish me? Can you truly avenge the dead by harming a living being?”
Haijing composed himself, chanted a Buddhist verse, and said, “Venerable Sir, you have too much killing intent and prefer to use violence to solve problems. Why not return with me to Hanchan Temple and spend ten years in meditation to dispel this violent aura?”
“You, young Master, are too attached to appearances,” Meng Qi shook his head and smiled. He gestured, and his sleeve opened, releasing countless figures who gently landed in the city. “Look, saving a life is better than building a seven-story pagoda. I have saved countless lives. How many pagodas have I built to dispel my violent aura? Why would I need to meditate?”
Haijing frowned and muttered, “You’re just making excuses!”
“Making excuses? I am not a Buddhist. Why shouldn’t I use force when necessary?” Meng Qi chuckled lightly. “I’ve met Arhats, Bodhisattvas, even Great Bodhisattvas and Buddhas. They are far above you, yet none of them have ever said such things to me. Go back and consult Great Wisdom Holy Monk before speaking again.”
With that, Meng Qi rode a somersault cloud and vanished beyond the city, continuing his search for the Jiangxinyuan. Haijing, seeing how easily Meng Qi had subdued the dragon, knew he could not match his strength. After a moment of hesitation, his expression darkened, and he left in frustration.
After several days of searching and observing the changes in the world’s qi, Meng Qi finally located the Jiangxinyuan. Using the secret techniques left by the Zhenwu Deity, he dove deep into the river and opened the entrance.
Meng Qi did not let greed cloud his mind, so as not to severely disrupt the course of history. He examined the Jiangxinyuan, where dark currents flowed, and left a hidden karmic connection at the entrance. The moment someone entered, he would immediately sense it and could descend remotely.
As he exited the Jiangxinyuan and flew back to the river’s surface, a sudden thought struck him, and he stepped back.
One step carried him a thousand li.
Ahead, seven monks appeared. Leading them was Haijing, while the other six monks had skin faintly shimmering with a glass-like luster—they were either Arhats or Bodhisattvas.
“Great Wisdom Holy Monk invites you to return to Hanchan Temple for a talk,” Haijing called out.
Each of the six Arhats and Bodhisattvas raised their right hands, revealing fragments of a golden talisman. Each fragment bore a single syllable written in Sanskrit:
“Om” “Ma” “Ni” “Pad” “Me” “Hum”!
The Six-Syllable Mantra? Meng Qi’s heart tightened. He suddenly realized that the situation was far more complicated than it seemed.
…
At the entrance to Chunyangzi’s tomb, three beams of light descended. The Overlord, tall and imposing, took the lead, followed closely by Gureldo and Sudaiji.
With a single slash of his blade, the entrance opened. As the Overlord stepped forward, he suddenly halted. Before the dragon-stone barrier inside the tomb sat an old man with graying hair, cross-legged. He lacked the imposing presence of a lone warrior holding off ten thousand, yet his focused and devout aura sent a chill through the heart.
“Not bad…” muttered the Overlord. A smile appeared on Gureldo’s face.
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