Chapter 1230: Xuan Bei’s Wish

During the full moon, the wailing sounds in the Burial God Desert grew increasingly mournful, evoking a sense of a living hell.

In a certain perilous area, eerie winds howled, and dark mist churned. The void occasionally bulged with distorted, ferocious faces, while swarms of vengeful spirits lingered, absorbing yang energy and extinguishing vitality.

At this moment, a middle-aged monk walked into this valley, untouched by human footsteps for countless millennia. Clad in yellow monastic robes and draped in a grand crimson kasaya, his refined yet gaunt features marked him as Xuan Bei, the chief of Shaolin’s Bodhi Courtyard. His once melancholic demeanor had transformed into a sorrowful compassion for the suffering of the world.

Whoosh!

The arrival of a living being, with its flesh and blood aura, sent the ghosts in the valley into a frenzy. The dark mist surged like a tide, and the frigid air coated the ground in layers of black ice. Any practitioner below the Exterior Scenery realm would perish within moments here, their yang energy and body heat drained by the environment before the vengeful spirits could even claim their souls.

Amidst the spectral procession and overwhelming deathly aura, Xuan Bei seemed as insignificant as a lone reef in a vast ocean. Yet, he pressed forward without pause, his hands already pressed together in prayer.

“From this day forth, across countless kalpas, in all worlds, all hells, and the three lower realms, I vow to save all suffering beings, delivering them from the torments of hell, the paths of beasts and hungry ghosts. Until these beings attain Buddhahood, only then shall I achieve perfect enlightenment.”

As the Buddhist chant resonated, the monk traversing the valley transformed into a golden “Bodhisattva,” treading upon black ice and dark blood yet remaining utterly untainted. His expression radiated solemn compassion, devoid of hatred or vengeful wrath.

Rings of Buddhist light emanated from Xuan Bei’s golden form of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, melting the ice, purifying the tainted blood, dispelling the eerie winds, and scattering the dark mist.

From the frozen, mud-like ground sprouted golden divine flowers—neither lotuses nor sala trees, but rather like the otherworldly blooms lining the banks of the Yellow Springs.

As the chant of “Namo Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva” filled the air, a Pure Land took shape, expanding outward to envelop the vengeful spirits and malevolent ghosts.

Buddhist techniques were unique. Unlike Daoist methods, which required the Legendary realm to create a personal grotto-heaven in the real world, a Buddhist Arhat could manifest their own Pure Land upon attaining the golden body.

Of course, Pure Lands before the Legendary realm were merely enhanced and deepened versions of a grandmaster’s domain, fundamentally distinct from a self-created grotto-heaven.

Xuan Bei’s golden form walked slowly forward, hands still pressed together, surrounded by the Pure Land. Flecks of golden light swirled around him like countless Arhats and Bodhisattvas, chanting Ksitigarbha’s sacred name in unison.

With each wave of Buddhist chants, the resentment of the vengeful spirits faded rapidly. Their twisted, ferocious faces softened as they assumed translucent forms, gathering at the center of the Pure Land behind Xuan Bei’s golden form, their expressions peaceful and serene.

The golden body of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva incorporated aspects of the Sambhogakaya, allowing this Pure Land to function as a miniature Buddha-realm. The spirits Xuan Bei liberated could reside here, cultivating the Dharma until his eventual parinirvana. However, if Xuan Bei attained Buddhahood or reached the Legendary realm before his passing, the Pure Land would solidify into a true Buddha-realm, persisting until the end of time.

In mere moments, the valley, once saturated with deathly aura and frigid darkness, regained tranquility. The ghostly wails ceased, and signs of life emerged.

Yet Xuan Bei showed no joy, only a sigh. “That lay devotee escaped again.”

After attaining the Ksitigarbha golden body, he had journeyed to the Burial God Desert to liberate the vengeful spirits trapped in its perilous depths. Half a year ago, he encountered a ten-thousand-year-old ghost with traces of an ancient deity’s aura—exceptionally fierce and stubborn. Despite repeated attempts to dissolve its lingering attachments and negative emotions, Xuan Bei had always fallen just short, unable to fully subdue it.

This was clearly a terrifying ghost that had regained sentience!

Muttering a Buddhist invocation, Xuan Bei withdrew the Pure Land into himself. Golden lotuses bloomed beneath his feet, lifting him into the sky as he flew toward the other end of the Burial God Desert.

Throughout his journey, he continued chanting scriptures, ensuring the newly liberated spirits remained free from their lingering attachments.

As he passed over an oasis, his figure suddenly halted, his eyes reflecting puzzlement.

“There is lingering yin energy, yet it lacks ferocity or malice,” Xuan Bei murmured.

Had he not cultivated the Ksitigarbha golden body, with its heightened sensitivity to such anomalies, he might have missed it entirely.

Descending, Xuan Bei followed the sensation to an aged courtyard. Under the bright moon, he knocked on the gate.

*Knock, knock, knock—* The rhythmic, unhurried sound roused the gatekeeper, who sleepily opened the door and asked, “Venerable Master, what urgent matter brings you here at this hour?”

“Has this household been troubled by ghosts recently?” Xuan Bei asked directly.

The gatekeeper blinked. “No rumors of hauntings, but the master has been inviting renowned monks and Daoists lately, though none have satisfied him.”

Xuan Bei nodded slightly. “This humble monk happens to specialize in liberating spirits. Please inform your master.”

The gatekeeper studied him skeptically, suspecting he was another monk drawn by the master’s generous reward. *Specializes in liberating ghosts? They all say that!*

After a moment’s thought, recalling his master’s desperation, he closed the door and hurried inside to report.

Soon, Tian Wanzhe emerged, draped in a loose robe.

“My father haunts my dreams nightly, lamenting his suffering in the afterlife. I beg the Master’s compassion to help resolve this,” Tian Wanzhe confessed bluntly.

His lips were blistered, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. After countless failed attempts to save his father—even mocked on the Myriad World Talisman—his desperation had grown unbearable. This late-night visit from a monk seemed like a last resort.

“Dreams? Suffering in the afterlife?” Xuan Bei studied Tian Wanzhe closely. With his Buddhist insight, he could tell the man was lying. Calmly, he said, “To resolve this through Buddhist means, we must find the object anchoring your father’s lingering attachments. Judging by what I sense, it is the Myriad World Talisman at your waist.”

*Thud!* Tian Wanzhe staggered back, nearly tripping over the threshold, his eyes wide with shock.

*This monk is incredible! He saw through the talisman’s connection to Father’s ‘lingering attachments’ at a glance!*

After a long hesitation, he gritted his teeth and led Xuan Bei into the study. Producing the Myriad World Talisman, he pleaded, “Master, save my father! Hell is unbearable, filled with torment. How can a son allow his parent to endure such suffering?”

Xuan Bei accepted the talisman, his hands glowing with black-and-white light as he gently traced its surface. Yet he sensed only the convergence of yin energy and lingering attachments—nothing more.

“Lay devotee, you must tell me the full truth, or I cannot help,” he said earnestly.

Tian Wanzhe relented, explaining how the Myriad World Talisman, once bound to the soul, could connect to the Netherworld, allowing communication with the deceased. Finally, he asked anxiously, “Master, is there a way?”

*The Netherworld?* Xuan Bei mused inwardly, astonished that this realm—absent for over a hundred thousand years—had reappeared beyond mere scripture and folklore. The talisman’s ability to penetrate the Netherworld was equally surprising. Logically, the Netherworld should be sealed—unless its creator lacked the power to obscure the Cause of All Effects, or there was another reason. *Come to think of it, my disciple has the Yellow Springs’ bones…*

After a pause, Xuan Bei said, “I must speak with your father directly to determine a solution.”

“Master, we must wait for him to initiate contact. Otherwise, the Netherworld’s enforcers might detect us,” Tian Wanzhe warned.

Xuan Bei nodded and began chanting the *Ksitigarbha Liberation Sutra*, its soothing cadence easing Tian Wanzhe’s agitation.

Time passed until dawn’s first light. Suddenly, the Myriad World Talisman vibrated, emitting a crystalline glow as eerie winds gathered.

Tian Wanzhe hastily answered, briefly explaining the situation to his father before handing the talisman to Xuan Bei. “Master, be brief.”

Xuan Bei said, “Old lay devotee, do not rush or speak. Merely recite my dharma name, Xuan Bei, forty-nine times in your heart.”

This would allow him to employ the Mind-Reading technique, experiencing the Netherworld through Old Man Tian’s perspective.

“Xuan Bei? The Buddhist master of the Primordial Emperor?” Tian Wanzhe blurted, wondering if it was a coincidence.

Once Old Man Tian finished silently reciting, Xuan Bei closed his eyes, his body radiating gentle golden light.

Gradually, his expression darkened, his compassion deepening as the Netherworld’s horrors seared into his soul.

*Such suffering after death!*

In that moment, he truly understood Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva’s vow, feeling both a sacred calling and an ineffable responsibility.

*I shall establish a Pure Land to dissolve the resentment of the deceased, sparing them such torment.*

*”Until hell is emptied, I vow not to attain Buddhahood. Only when all beings are liberated shall I achieve Bodhi.”*

Ending the connection, Xuan Bei opened his eyes and said gently, “Rest assured, Lay Devotee Tian. I have a solution. I shall seek assistance and return shortly.”

Alone, he doubted he could rescue souls from the terrifying Netherworld. But since the Myriad World Talisman could connect to hell, seeking help from the Jade Void Palace was the right choice.

The thought made him uneasy—asking his disciple for help as a master and elder was embarrassing.

Yet if it meant saving suffering souls, what was a little shame?

Rising on his escape light, he flew eastward, stopping only at the Jade Void Palace on Mount Kunlun.

“I wish to see your sect’s leader,” Xuan Bei said to the gatekeeper, the Great Green Root.

The Great Green Root scurried out, grinning obsequiously. “Master, no need for such formality! But, ah, our leader is currently away and not in residence.”