“Yunyan Pavilion?”
“Yunyan Pavilion!”
Changsun Jing and Ruyi Monk expressed the same surprise, though in different tones. Just moments ago they had mentioned the Living Buddha, and now he had come knocking on his own!
With anyone else, they might have considered him arrogant and oblivious to his own limits. The chasm between a Grandmaster and the pinnacle of human capability was unfathomable. In ancient times, how fearsome was the Demon Lord’s sinister arts—yet even he had to flee in terror like a whipped cur when confronting the Demon Empress. Countless formidable martial artists had devoted their entire lives to reaching the peak of human potential, yet never succeeded in taking that ultimate step!
But this was the “Thunderstruck Sword” Xiao Meng—the very same Xiao Meng who once summoned heavenly lightning to vanquish the Demon Lord, the very same Xiao Meng who had achieved countless legendary feats!
And now, after five years, he had reappeared. No one knew exactly what level he had reached!
He was definitely not a reckless or conceited person; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to walk away from everything at the height of his power to live like a wandering cloud and wild crane.
In other words, he had immense confidence in his own strength!
They also found it hard to believe that “Thunderstruck Sword” Xiao Meng could misjudge the Living Buddha’s strength. After all, he had been personally instructed by the Sword Emperor and had even fought side by side with the Demon Empress.
The two exchanged glances, both thinking the same thought:
Could it be that after five years of arduous cultivation, he had already entered the ranks of the Grand Masters?
At his age, that would surely be an unprecedented record!
Meng Qi’s hands hung by his sides, slender and pale, not appearing to be the hands of a swordsman, yet exuding an indescribable sense of power.
He slowly stepped out of the room, ignoring the slightly stunned Changsun Jing and Ruyi Monk, descended the stairs, exited Xiaoxiang Building, and turned onto the street leading to Yunyan Pavilion. A smile remained on his lips as he leisurely observed the bustling surroundings, seemingly indifferent.
Footsteps approached. Changsun Jing and Ruyi Monk had caught up.
“Mr. Meng, over these past five years, I’ve been searching for you, hoping to personally thank you for your guidance. Unfortunately, I’ve heard no news of you. May I ask what you’ve been doing all this time?” Changsun Jing hesitated slightly before cleverly asking.
Meng Qi half-truthfully replied, “Watching sunrises, gazing at stars, contemplating the heavens and the earth, the rising and setting of the sun.”
“Eh, such a leisurely and carefree reclusive life,” Changsun Jing chuckled dryly. He was a sociable person by nature, and found Meng Qi’s answer too casual, completely missing the real point.
However, since the other party didn’t wish to elaborate, he saw no need to press further.
Meng Qi turned his head and grinned at him, “What? Don’t believe me?”
“Not at all! It’s just that I enjoy the company of friends, drinking from large bowls and feasting heartily. I can’t really appreciate that kind of lifestyle,” Changsun Jing hurriedly explained.
Ruyi Monk nodded slightly, “To calm one’s restlessness and observe the sun and stars—Mr. Meng, even though you are not in the Buddhist sect, you possess a certain Buddhist nature.”
He had fought against Meng Qi before and naturally suspected he might have Buddhist origins.
I don’t really like hearing that… Meng Qi raised an eyebrow. Knowing Ruyi Monk hadn’t meant any offense, he didn’t say more and continued walking leisurely toward Yunyan Pavilion.
When they arrived at Yunyan Pavilion, four imperial guards stood outside, while two men dressed in Western barbarian attire stood within.
“This is an embassy. If you have no official business, please leave,” one of the guards barked.
“I heard the current Living Buddha is here. I’ve come specially to hear his teachings,” Meng Qi replied with a smile.
After learning that the Living Buddha could pull people into memories of past lives, he had firmly decided to confront him.
For a long time, he had been troubled by the possibility that his past life might be connected to A-nan. Yet the “Sky-shattering Earth-splitting Method” couldn’t awaken memories of past lives unless aided by someone with whom one shared deep, generational connections, embarking together on a spiritual journey through the mind. Now that such an opportunity had arisen, how could he possibly let it slip away?
As for the Living Buddha’s claim that he would redeem Meng Qi—ha ha, did he really seem like such a petty person?
The guard, furious, actually laughed, “How could the Living Buddha possibly be at Yunyan Pavilion? Scram! Scram!”
“I am Thunderstruck Sword,” Meng Qi introduced himself calmly.
“Thunderstruck Sword? What thunder…?” The guard suddenly stuttered, while the two foreign men at the gate exchanged glances.
After a short pause, one of the foreigners, speaking fluent and polished Central Plains dialect, said, “Wait a moment.”
He turned and strode deep into Yunyan Pavilion.
Several imperial guards and the remaining foreign men cautiously eyed Meng Qi. Although five years had passed, the name “Thunderstruck Sword” still carried immense legendary weight.
He had escorted Lu Guan across thousands of miles to the capital, leaving countless corpses in his wake; infiltrated Yunyan Pavilion and abducted the true envoy; defeated Lie Dao with a single strike, declaring him unworthy of wielding a sword; stormed the imperial palace under the cover of night, effortlessly evading the celestial net, summoning heavenly lightning to slay the邪君; launched a fierce assault on the Crown Prince’s residence, killing the prince despite the heavy guard of numerous experts… Any one of these feats alone would have been enough to etch his name into the annals of the martial world for generations. Combined, they forged a legend unparalleled in history!
(Note: “邪君” is translated as “邪君” (Xie Jun) since it appears to be a title or name. If it refers to a specific character or concept, please provide additional context for a more accurate translation.)
“Since your retreat into seclusion, every year someone has tried to impersonate ‘Thunderstruck Sword,’ but none were even worth mentioning,” Changsun Jing recalled with amusement. “The most ridiculous was someone pretending to be you—cold and aloof—trying to win the heart of a female martial artist, only to be defeated in just a few sword strikes…”
Meng Qi listened with great interest, confirming from the side that his reputation still held strong.
“The envoy invites the three of you inside,” the same Western barbarian guard returned hastily, covertly studying Meng Qi with confusion—why would he dare come here, knowing the Living Buddha intended to redeem him!
Following the guard, Meng Qi and the others entered Yunyan Pavilion. The scenery—every tree and blade of grass—remained largely unchanged.
The reception hall of Yunyan Pavilion was vast, filled with many people, yet Meng Qi’s gaze naturally locked onto one individual.
Seated at the center, the man wore a robe unique to the Western Buddhist tradition, one arm exposed. His figure was imposing, his skin like jade, his age impossible to discern. He exuded an unusual charm. His eyes were clear and pure, yet when one met his gaze, one could see swirling ripples within them, like the undulating surface of a mirror lake.
At the same moment Meng Qi looked at him, the man also saw Meng Qi. He felt as though those eyes were deep and dark, bottomless, like a night sky devoid of stars or moonlight.
So this is indeed the current Living Buddha… Changsun Jing narrowed his eyes. During fierce battles against the Western barbarians, he had once seen this man from afar. Unfortunately, the Sword Emperor had not acted at that time, preventing him from witnessing the full might of the Sun-Fire Wheel and the legendary secret techniques.
As their eyes met, Meng Qi and the Living Buddha no longer saw anything around them—only each other and the intertwining qi. Yet gradually, Changsun Jing and the others, along with the surroundings, reappeared within their mental landscapes.
“I heard you wish to redeem me, so I came,” Meng Qi stepped forward, his aura suddenly shifting, as if he had experienced countless ages, vast and lofty.
Slowly rising, the Living Buddha spoke in peculiar Central Plains dialect, “To protect the Dao, one must eliminate evil.”
He stood there, as if at the center of all things, overlooking samsara, like a true Buddha.
At that moment, both unleashed their spiritual secret arts without holding back!
The sky near Yunyan Pavilion had originally been a clear blue. Now it suddenly darkened—not the kind of darkness that precedes a storm, but a strange, swirling blackness, like the hell spoken of in legends, from which demons seemed ready to crawl forth.
The heavens and earth abruptly changed. Changsun Jing, Ruyi Monk, the Western envoys, and the entire reception hall of Yunyan Pavilion vanished from Meng Qi’s sight and mind. He found himself in a cramped room.
The room could barely fit a bed and a table. Adding even a single chair would make movement difficult.
Clothes were stored in a box by the door, meaning every time he left, the door could only open a small gap, just enough for one person.
This was the rented room from his most destitute past… Meng Qi wasn’t shocked. He had mentally prepared himself, and the feelings of that time remained vivid in his memory.
He opened the computer in front of him. Green letters flickered across the screen, eventually forming an image.
It showed an elderly, venerable man, his white hair bent over Buddhist scriptures.
Without any external clues, Meng Qi instinctively knew this was the Living Buddha’s previous incarnation.
The old man turned his head. As their eyes met, the environment shifted again. An uncontrollable surge of sorrow and fury rose within Meng Qi. Tears streamed down his face as he saw a building engulfed in flames. Beside it stood a Japanese soldier, while his pregnant wife lay on the ground, her belly sliced open, the fetus impaled.
Meng Qi clenched his teeth, no longer able to suppress his rage. He let out a guttural cry and lunged forward.
Bang! A gunshot rang out, plunging everything into darkness.
Within the flickering flames lay another world. A kind-faced elderly woman sat in a Buddhist hall, praying for her descendants. Unconsciously, her breathing stilled, and her expression became serene.
Anger, hatred, and fear surged again. Meng Qi saw himself locked in a bamboo cage, being carried toward a pond.
“Unmarried and having relations with another man—she deserves to be drowned in a pig cage!” His once-loving parents had changed, their expressions twisted with hatred, as if they wished to devour him alive.
The bamboo cage sank, cold water seeping into his nostrils. In the fire-reflecting pond water appeared another scene: a young girl kidnapped by bandits, repeatedly violated, attempting suicide multiple times only to be saved each time, eventually renouncing the world to live in a temple.
Again and again, Meng Qi experienced reincarnations—as a Taoist priest, a scholar, an ordinary woman—while the Living Buddha transformed into various forms: a butcher, an eagle, a general.
The further back they went, the more fragmented the memories became, the scenes shorter and more fleeting.
Suddenly, Meng Qi’s vision turned blank, as if reaching the very beginning of reincarnation.
Nothing?
No trace of A-nan?
Across the emptiness, the Living Buddha continued to trace back through lifetimes, each one ultimately turning toward Buddhist teachings.
As he approached the origin, his body gradually became translucent crystal, and behind him, a great sun slowly rose.
Once both had pulled each other into their past-life memories, there could be no peaceful resolution. A final confrontation was inevitable, or else they would be trapped in this state forever.
Meng Qi knew this. So did the Living Buddha!
Yet now, Meng Qi had reached the beginning—simple and ordinary—while the Living Buddha grew increasingly serene, the sun behind him becoming more and more real.
Who would win seemed obvious!
Inside Yunyan Pavilion, Changsun Jing and the others watched in astonishment as the Living Buddha’s hands unconsciously formed the sun-wheel seal, his entire body seemingly radiating light, like the descent of the sun itself.
“The sun descends—the Living Buddha has finally reached the highest realm!” the Western envoy exclaimed in delighted surprise.
Meanwhile, Meng Qi, locked in eye contact with the Living Buddha, stood motionless, like a soulless shell!
“What should we do?”
“Should we forcibly interrupt them?”
Changsun Jing and Ruyi Monk exchanged glances, sensing that Thunderstruck Sword Xiao Meng was in grave danger.
Just then, Changsun Jing saw Meng Qi sigh. One hand lifted toward the heavens, the other pointed downward.
Suddenly, he seemed to grow immense, filling the heavens and earth, exuding an unparalleled presence!
What was this? Everyone turned in shock toward him.
Within their spiritual realm, as the sun behind the Living Buddha grew increasingly vivid and tangible, he suddenly noticed Meng Qi had vanished. In his place sat a colossal golden Buddha statue, so immense that it seemed to fill the entire universe. One finger pointed to the heavens, the other to the earth, radiating supreme purity, compassion, and liberation!
Meng Qi had dared to come because he definitely had some ultimate life-saving techniques.
After opening the ninth acupoint of the “Ba Jiu Xuan Gong,” he could slightly mimic the aura of the “Tathagata Palm’s” first move—perfect for shattering the Living Buddha’s mental illusions!
At that moment, the golden giant Buddha spoke with a voice both majestic and compassionate: “The sea of suffering has no bounds—turn back while there’s still a shore!”
The Buddha preached, his voice like thunder. The Living Buddha’s eyes froze, and his great sun wavered.
“The sea of suffering has no bounds—turn back while there’s still a shore!”
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