After an unknown duration of flight, Han Guang suddenly saw a world bathed in a hazy glow before his eyes—vast beyond measure, dwarfing all the fragments of time and space he had encountered before by hundreds or even thousands of times. An inexplicable sense of familiarity washed over him.
“This is it…” A tremor ran through Han Guang’s heart, yet his face broke into a leisurely smile, as if he were utterly carefree.
Forty years after that dreamlike experience, he could no longer sense the existence of this fragment of time and space. Even when communicating with his other selves across myriad worlds, he found no trace of it, as though it had truly been nothing but a dream.
Descending with his flight light concealed, he stealthily entered the Jade Emperor Mountain. All the barriers and restrictions along his path might as well have been nonexistent.
“Xu He perished in a bizarre lightning tribulation, reduced to ashes… Coincidentally, it was the moment I awoke from that ‘dream’ and returned to reality. It seems someone deliberately erased my traces from this world…” Inside the Scripture Hall, Han Guang casually flipped through the Xuantian Sect’s ancient texts, appearing perfectly at ease. The people around him came and went, yet none found his presence the least bit unusual. “On the other hand, Daoist Shoujing later achieved the Dharmakaya and only passed away a few years ago, buried in the mountains… How peculiar…”
Han Guang returned the book to its original place, clasped his hands behind his back, and leisurely strolled out. In an instant, he appeared outside Shoujing’s tomb.
The tomb was modest, built upon a gray-white foundation, with a stone stele erected before the grave, inscribed with the deceased’s name.
“After all, he was once my master…” Han Guang sighed, half-mocking himself. He performed a ritual bow in accordance with Xuantian Sect etiquette before bypassing the layers of restrictions and stepping inside the tomb. There, he saw a black wooden coffin resting at the center. Strangely, his divine sense could not penetrate what appeared to be ordinary black wood.
“Indeed, something is amiss.” Han Guang chuckled softly to himself, focusing intently as he pushed forward with his right hand.
A grating sound echoed as the coffin lid slowly opened with unnatural heaviness, revealing its contents:
Empty. Utterly void.
The remains of Daoist Shoujing, who had supposedly died of old age, were nowhere to be found.
A chill ran up Han Guang’s spine, as though he had stepped into a deadly trap or encountered an ancient, invincible foe.
At that moment, a glimmer of light flashed before his eyes, and a shimmering long blade emerged from the void.
The Blade of Time!
The very weapon that had vanished when the Primordial Heavenly Lord Su Meng attained the Dao was hidden here!
Countless thoughts raced through Han Guang’s mind as he suddenly grasped the unspoken hint the Devil Buddha had left him. Smiling faintly at the blade, he said, “I must trouble you, venerable one, to relay four words to the Celestial Emperor. These are the Devil Buddha’s words.”
He paused, observing the Blade of Time’s unchanging, indifferent presence, as steady as the passage of time itself, before uttering the four words:
“Fu Huang’s Corpse.”
The blade’s light flickered, shimmering like a dream, rippling before vanishing without a trace.
Han Guang stood with his hands behind his back, his expression serene, though a question arose in his heart:
If the message was merely for the Celestial Emperor, why go through such trouble? Couldn’t he simply whisper His name in his mind?
Unless such an act could not evade the notice of other Nirvana-level beings?
Or was a face-to-face transmission necessary to achieve some hidden purpose?
As a master of manipulation and keen insight, Han Guang sensed he had brushed against something pivotal.
—
In the Earthly Pure Land, the Bodhisattva of Compassion sat upon a lotus throne, manifesting as the White-Robed Guanyin. Holding a jade vase and twirling a willow branch, She preached the Dharma of mercy to the densely packed followers of the Luo Sect in a solemn, majestic voice.
Yet, sensing the hardened hearts filled with hatred among them, She felt a pang of helplessness. Perhaps forcibly converting them with Buddha-light would be the most effective method—why torment Herself otherwise?
Drawing a quiet breath, She maintained Her compassionate smile and ceased speaking of the Dharma. Instead, She asked, “Having spent days in this Earthly Pure Land, have you noticed its similarities with the Vacuum Hometown?”
Before the words faded, the Luo Sect followers’ expressions shifted subtly, for each of them had felt an inexplicable familiarity with the Earthly Pure Land.
The Bodhisattva’s majestic voice resonated once more: “Both are havens from the apocalypse, both are vessels of salvation, both take the white lotus as their symbol, both promise divine descent for deliverance, both embody boundless compassion and bliss…”
She listed the parallels one by one, leaving the Luo Sect followers exchanging bewildered glances, unsure how to respond.
Finally, Her voice suddenly amplified like thunder, delivering a sharp awakening:
“Can you not see? The two faiths share the same origin—both worship the Savior who takes the white lotus as His emblem!”
“Yet the divine envoys beneath the Savior each pursue their own schemes, acting independently, seeking only to maximize their own merits. They paint the other as irredeemable villains, deceiving you into mutual hatred!”
“How much longer will you resist repentance and the revival of compassion?”
As a Great Bodhisattva, the Bodhisattva of Compassion never spoke falsely. Though Her words were ambiguous, they were not lies—the teachings of the Eternal Mother had indeed evolved from Maitreya’s White Lotus Sect!
Now, She sought to shatter the stubborn hearts of the Luo Sect devotees, paving the way for them to recognize their true selves and seek the Tathagata within.
To save others is to save their minds—this is true salvation, the essence of the decree from the Heavenly Lord of Teachings!
At the heart of the Earthly Pure Land, Maitreya reclined on His lotus throne. Due to His connection with the Primordial Heavenly Lord Meng Qi, He feigned ignorance of the Bodhisattva’s actions, making no attempt to interfere. After all, it remained within the Buddhist domain, never escaping the bounds of the Earthly Pure Land.
His eyes half-closed, He inhaled and exhaled the rewards of His great vows, cultivating both Dharmakaya and Reward Body, accumulating the fruits of His labor, awaiting the moment He would break free from the sea of suffering.
—
Deep within the Nine Nether Abyss, the Demon Monarch, clad in ancient attire with flowing white hair, emerged from seclusion and descended to the lowest layer. Bypassing the Daoist of Seven Killings, He entered the core of the Nether Sea ruins—the place closest to the origin of the Nine Nether.
There, He sat cross-legged, seemingly contemplating the vilest, most depraved and corrupt essence, as if to cultivate through it.
To the likes of the Nine Chaos Heavenly Lord and the Daoist of Seven Killings, the Demon Monarch’s actions warranted only a glance—nothing out of the ordinary.
No pseudo-Nirvana being would forgo the chance to become a true Nirvana!
—
Time flowed, and another decade passed.
The Earthly Pure Land now stretched east to the Immortal Realm beyond the seas, north to the polar wastes, south past the Great Wilderness, and west to the Abyssal Ocean. Everywhere, people chanted Buddha’s name; everywhere, the glow of lapis lazuli gathered toward Chang Le City.
White lotuses carpeted the city, their fragrance permeating the air, purity radiating naturally. Suddenly, Maitreya, who had been reclining in meditation, shuddered and sat upright, reciting scriptures in a voice both grand and solemn:
“When the Future Star Tribulation arrives, a Buddha shall return from extinction, guiding all beings, wishing that all may embrace compassion and attain the Future Buddha…”
As the scriptures echoed, the earth sprouted sala trees, and heavenly Buddha-light enveloped Maitreya, revealing a golden Future Buddha with twenty heads and sixteen arms, draped in resplendent starlight. All the scriptures coalesced into two mighty proclamations:
“If I attain Bodhi, then in the Dharma-Ending Age, all shall be Buddhas!”
“If I attain Bodhi, yet fail to deliver all beings, to save the world from apocalypse, to seek the future—then let it not be so!”
Having endured the defeat of antiquity, the calamities of the middle ages, and the trials of recent eras, Maitreya—prophesied as the Future Buddha—had at last found His moment to take that step toward Nirvana!
In the Western Paradise, the golden Buddha gazed upon this scene with compassionate eyes.
Within the Jade Void Palace of the Kunlun Realm, the Primordial Heavenly Lord Meng Qi opened His eyes, shattering eons of silence as He turned His gaze toward the Earthly Pure Land.
From the Demon Emperor’s Palace, Tushita Heaven, the Vacuum Hometown, the Bodhi Pure Land, the Fusang Ancient Tree Domain, and the deepest abysses—countless eyes turned to watch.
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