In the Buddhist Pure Land spanning countless kalpas, the phantom of A-nan suddenly opened his eyes and calmly said, “Su Meng is about to attempt the Shore Crossing.”
Dīpaṃkara was inexplicably startled, almost blurting out, “He’s attempting the Shore Crossing? Today? Now?”
This was far too sudden and unexpected!
Ever since Yang Jian severed the hand of the Lifeless Old Mother reaching into the Nine Netherworlds and joined forces with Meng Qi to isolate the Black Heavenly Emperor, Dīpaṃkara had been completely blind to the situation within the Nine Netherworlds. He had no idea that Meng Qi was now carrying his sword and saber, step by step, approaching the Real World.
“Indeed,” the phantom of A-nan replied succinctly.
“How can this be?” Dīpaṃkara’s voice was filled with confusion. “His accumulation is undoubtedly sufficient, but the stances of the Shore Crossing figures have yet to shift significantly. Without waiting for Maitreya’s enlightenment as a variable and opportunity, what exactly is his reliance?”
Moreover, he was doing this so openly, as if afraid others wouldn’t know!
This wasn’t like the time when the Green Emperor broke free from the Sea of Bitterness—the Shore Crossing figures hadn’t yet returned, and their interference was limited!
Could it be that behind the scenes, unknown to him, certain Shore Crossing figures had already changed their stance, tilting the situation in Su Meng’s favor, emboldening him to attempt the Shore Crossing with such direct and audacious confidence?
At the thought of this possibility, ripples stirred in Dīpaṃkara’s heart and spirit, evoking a fear he hadn’t felt in countless years.
If this were true, not only would his path to enlightenment be completely severed, but he might also end up with no place to bury his corpse.
Which Shore Crossing figure could have changed their stance, prompting Su Meng to make the decision to break free from the Sea of Bitterness now?
The Golden Emperor? No, her enmity with Su Meng ran deep, and with Gu Xiaosang as an irreconcilable knot, compromise or peaceful resolution was impossible.
The Ancient Buddha of Bodhi? His three corpses were incomplete because of Su Meng, and their karmic ties were heavy—yet not entirely irreparable, given sufficient offerings and vows. Of course, he and Amitābha had always acted in unison and wouldn’t change their stance unilaterally.
Amitābha? He valued himself highly, but to ensure Maitreya’s enlightenment proceeded unhindered, it wasn’t impossible for him to reach a covert agreement with the Moral Heavenly Venerate in exchange…
Thump, thump, thump!
Dīpaṃkara seemed to hear his own heartbeat, silent for eons, or perhaps the sound of Su Meng’s steps as he strode toward the Shore Crossing, each one landing on his heart.
He no longer had any grasp of the situation. As a Perfected Great Master at the pinnacle of Creation, his ability to intervene in the struggle of Shore Crossing figures was severely limited.
Just then, he heard the phantom of A-nan say with unshakable calm, “Rest assured. If Su Meng does not leave the Nine Netherworlds, all is well. But if he does, he will surely perish.”
The certainty in his voice soothed the turmoil in Dīpaṃkara’s heart—but only for a moment before alarm struck him. As if realizing something, he turned his gaze toward the ruins of Spirit Mountain, toward the Three Treasures Ruyi resting atop its peak.
Could it be the Devil Buddha…?
He dared not dwell on the thought further. His heart had already made a decision: if their side’s Shore Crossing figures gained complete dominance, he would wait to obtain the “Seal of the Grand Dao.” But if the two sides reached a stalemate, he would have no choice but to intervene personally, sparing no effort to obstruct Su Meng’s ascent.
At the critical moment of attempting the Shore Crossing, even a Perfected Great Master at the pinnacle of Creation could wreak havoc—just as during the Green Emperor’s enlightenment.
In any case, there was no room for hesitation now. To delay was to invite disaster!
—
In the earthly Buddhist kingdom, temples stood everywhere, white lotuses bloomed across the land, and merit ponds were a common sight. Where the palaces of Eternal Joy City once stood, an eleven-petaled lotus platform blossomed silently, bearing the golden body of the rotund Maitreya Buddha.
Having received guidance from Amitābha, a trace of surprise flickered across his ever-smiling face. Clearly, he too had not expected Su Meng to leave the Nine Netherworlds so suddenly and recklessly to attempt the Shore Crossing.
Maitreya had some vague understanding of Su Meng’s accumulation. He faintly guessed that Amitābha, the Ancient Buddha of Bodhi, and the Lifeless Old Mother had been covertly indulging him, emboldening him to leave the Nine Netherworlds. Thus, he had already completed the three crucial “historical milestones” of tracing the past and seized the inevitabilities of the future, grasping all possibilities. Once he moved his “past” out of the Nine Netherworlds, this aspect would break through immediately.
As for condensing the illusory Dao Fruit, his Path of Primordial Chaos had long been capable.
But sufficient accumulation was only one crucial aspect of reaching the Shore Crossing—not the entirety. The attitudes of Shore Crossing figures were paramount, and timing and circumstances could not be ignored. One’s temperament had to be tempered through countless trials. Maitreya himself had touched the threshold of the Shore Crossing but had yet to dare take the final step, lacking the opportune moment of inspiration.
He had assumed Su Meng would wait until his own attempt to cross the Shore Crossing, using the chaos to his advantage. Yet now, it seemed Su Meng had chosen to follow his own heart and nature, pursuing enlightenment on his own terms.
Once he stirred the waters and thoroughly disrupted the situation, Maitreya’s own opportunity might arise!
—
Lu Ya hid within a fragment of the Primordial Wilderness, refining the damaged “Seven Arrows Book of the Nailed Head” once more.
Suddenly, he frowned slightly, his ancient face betraying complex emotions:
“Su Meng is about to leave the Nine Netherworlds and attempt the Shore Crossing.”
Nearby, Han Guang’s aura grew increasingly ethereal, as vast as the heavens yet empty as the void. With the Bodhi Wonderful Tree resting across his knees, he pondered for a moment before asking, “What is Su Meng’s confidence?”
The situation in the Nine Netherworlds had been isolated for so long that even he, wielding the Bodhi Wonderful Tree, had only barely sensed Su Meng’s approach to its edge. How had Lu Ya learned of this?
“Su Meng himself may not even know the source of his confidence—he’s simply chosen to trust Gu Xiaosang,” Lu Ya chuckled. “Gu Xiaosang thought she could deceive the heavens, but she couldn’t deceive me.”
Or rather, she couldn’t deceive the one behind you? Han Guang smiled faintly but said nothing.
“Su Meng is still too reckless. Had he waited until Maitreya attempted enlightenment, when the situation grew even more chaotic, his chances would have been greater,” Lu Ya mused, though whether in regret or schadenfreude was unclear. “When the time comes, I’ll need to borrow your Bodhi Wonderful Tree.”
Han Guang shook his head. “Another’s path is not my own. If Su Meng were as cautious and perfection-seeking as you, he would lose the very edge and courage that define him. Hah—the Primordial Heavenly Venerate is, after all, still the Mad Blade, the Thunderbolt Monk, the Reckless Vajra.”
Lu Ya fell silent, his eyes half-lidded as he attuned his body and mind, awaiting the moment to strike.
Across the myriad realms, mighty figures backed by Shore Crossing overlords learned of the former Primordial Emperor’s imminent departure from the Nine Netherworlds to seek the supreme Shore Crossing. They retreated to the Glazed World, the Ancient Fusang Tree Realm, the Thirty-Three Heavens Beyond, and other such places to avoid being caught in the fallout.
As the kalpa neared its end and the apocalypse loomed, would the Green Emperor be followed by the Primordial Emperor’s enlightenment?
Or would he vanish into oblivion, with the Jade Void Palace withdrawing entirely from this kalpa’s struggle?
—
Within the Nine Netherworlds, Meng Qi carried his saber and sword on his back, his eyes deep and unfathomable as he gazed toward the Real World. Each step he took condensed his momentum and gathered his past.
Since Xiaosang said the preparations were complete, he would trust that they truly were!
With preparations settled and accumulation sufficient, why wait for another day? Today, he would settle all debts and grievances!
This was not a reckless decision but one dictated by his own path. If he were Wang Siyuan, borrowing the “momentum” of Maitreya’s ascent would be no issue—just as he once borrowed He Jiu’s power to transcend tribulation in a single step. But for himself, doing so would dull his edge, weakening the resolve needed for a life-or-death struggle. The “blade” of creation he wielded would no longer be pure.
The greatest obstacle to breaking free from the Sea of Bitterness was the interference of the Shore Crossing figures, which often led people to overlook the fact that the dangers of reaching the Shore Crossing lay not only externally but also internally. Even without the intervention of mighty figures, even with sufficient accumulation, the slightest flaw in one’s temperament could result in utter annihilation.
The True Martial Emperor, once a child disciple of the Daoist Venerate, had profound backing, countless treasures, and spent years contemplating within the Origin of Life and Death. His accumulation was no less than Meng Qi’s own—yet at the final moment, a trace of hesitation, a lack of the resolve to “hear the Dao in the morning and accept death by evening,” caused him to wield the Primordial Yang Ruler and fail.
All his arrangements, all his schemes, all his preparations—vanished in an instant, cut short.
Such was the Shore Crossing. Such was the most difficult trial of cultivation.
As the boundary of the Nine Netherworlds came into view, Meng Qi closed his eyes briefly. In his mind, four sword lights—red, azure, black, and white—flashed like moths drawn to flame, slashing toward the flawless, radiant moon, only to be swallowed without a trace.
“Reporting to the Old Mother—my Jade Void Palace has always protected its own!” Meng Qi silently recited these words. His left hand reached out, and with a metallic ring, he drew the Human Emperor Sword. Golden light shimmered, the aura of kingship spread, and mountains, rivers, sun, moon, and stars seemed to form their own cosmos.
His eyes remained closed, but in his ears, he seemed to hear the faint strains of a zither. In his heart, a sword light of utmost purity emerged, and with it, his “past” unfolded: the young novice sweeping the floor when he first met the girl in pale yellow; the Mad Blade returning wounded from the Sword Washing Pavilion; the young hero savoring treasured delicacies; the sigh as he watched the coldly beautiful woman persuade the Mother of the Dipper…
Over a century ago, I lacked the power to save you, leaving you to face death alone, waiting in vain for aid.
Over a century later, I can finally shout: “Reinforcements are here! We live and die together!”
His right hand gripped the hilt of his saber, drawing the Peerless Heavenly Saber. Purple light surged, thunderbolts raged, and an overwhelming domineering aura took form.
“Third Brother, carry my hopes to the Shore Crossing!”
The words of Gao Lan echoed in his heart, and the cold, aloof figure of the emperor seemed to curl his lips into an expectant smile… Meng Qi opened his eyes, now brimming with irrepressible pain, grief, hatred, and madness. He released the emotions buried deep within, bringing his momentum to its peak.
“Very well, Imperial Brother. Today, I shall bear your hopes upon my shoulders!”
Tears streaked Meng Qi’s face, just as they had during his past cries of anguish. With one step, he left the Nine Netherworlds.
Today, he would attempt the Shore Crossing openly and without hesitation—burning his bridges, fighting with his back to the river!
The moment his figure departed the Nine Netherworlds, a flawless, radiant moon rose steadily into the sky. The Lifeless Old Mother had struck without delay!
“Witch, prepare to die!” Meng Qi roared as if prepared long ago. The Peerless Heavenly Saber and Human Emperor Sword in his hands soared, intertwining streaks of violet and gold as they met the luminous moon.
This saber strike allowed no retreat!
This sword thrust sought life through death!
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