Thump, thump, thump—the rhythmic beating of the wooden fish seemed to strike directly at the heart of the Bodhisattva of Joy, tightening her nerves and making her vision blur, as the figure of the gray-robed monk before her merged with the image of the immortal by the Jiang River in Shen Du who had once placed his hand on her head and bestowed eternal life. The bizarre death of the master of the Buren Tower still lingered vividly in her mind.
After sealing Liang Jiuzhou inside her “Medicinal Pouch” and fleeing the city of Northern Zhou with Mu Yunle to avoid being instantly slain by Gao Lian’s sudden arrival from Changle, she had flown across mountains and returned to the grasslands. Yet, suddenly, the scenery changed, and before she could react, she was pulled into this ruined temple, face to face with this star of calamity who had vanished nearly a decade ago!
He was still alive!
This sudden encounter, the lingering shadow in her mind, and the inexplicable reunion sent her heart pounding. Her first thought was not a question, nor curiosity—it was to flee.
As a Grand Master, she understood that fleeing in panic meant exposing weaknesses to her enemy, tantamount to suicide. Thus, she resolved to confront him cautiously first and seek an opportunity later. Yet strangely, he neither spoke nor acted, only striking the wooden fish, his aura withdrawn and his presence withered.
This eerie situation prompted the Bodhisattva of Joy not to attack but to attempt escape. However, no matter what martial arts or secret techniques she employed or in which direction she fled, she inevitably found herself back at the starting point, facing the Tathagata—facing the gray-robed monk, Su Meng.
Yes, he was none other than the once world-famous “Furious Saber,” Su Meng!
In that decade when the Human Rankings shone with stars, many of whom were now Grand Masters or Masters, far surpassing the eras of the Twin Stars or the Moonlit Sky, he had dominated his generation, hailed as the most promising martial cultivator since ancient times—his future achievements perhaps rivalling or even surpassing those of the “Heavenly Sword from Beyond,” Su Wuming.
She herself had once encountered him and had been so frightened by the immortal gesture of placing a hand on her head and granting eternal life that she fled immediately.
As these thoughts surged, the Bodhisattva of Joy raised her hands, and suddenly the “Joyful Weaving” manifested. White veils swept the air, embodying ultimate softness, enveloping the space ahead like a net of heaven and earth.
Midway through its deployment, the Joyful Weaving suddenly split into two streams, each forming a whirlpool. Yin and Yang attracted each other, and the two whirlpools collided.
At the moment of collision, one stream transformed from Yin to Yang, its attractive force becoming repulsive. The two whirlpools tore apart space with a force that seemed to rip the void.
This was the opportunity! The Joyful Weaving spun around the Bodhisattva of Joy, enveloping her as she transformed into a streak of light, vanishing into the rift.
Using an attack as a cover and relying on her divine weapon, she forcibly broke free from the strange phenomenon that always returned her to the same spot.
The chance was fleeting. To escape, she had long abandoned concern for Mu Yunle.
Darkness gave way to light, and as the Bodhisattva of Joy felt a flicker of hope, the light dimmed again. A single flickering lamp, a stone statue of the Tathagata filled with sorrow, and the gray-robed monk with half-closed eyes resumed his steady tapping of the wooden fish.
Thump, thump, thump.
The Bodhisattva’s heart sank slowly. She had returned to the same place—the ruined temple. The lotus blossoms were both near and far, and she had nearly exhausted all her strength.
How strange! How terrifying!
Even when facing the Great Asura, the Blood Sea Rakshasa, the former Demon Sage, or the Dharma King of Salvation, with her divine weapon in hand, she had never felt so helpless. Today, however, she felt cornered, trapped, unable to escape his grasp no matter what she did!
She had experienced many trials, and her Grand Master cultivation was not gained through external means. In this moment of danger, her heart suddenly calmed. She ceased her attempts to flee and turned her gaze toward the gray-robed monk, Su Meng. His face was gaunt, like a living corpse. If not for his unchanged aura, she might not have recognized him at all.
Had he been sitting here for ten years, under the dim lamp beside the Buddha statue?
Had he not drawn his blade in a decade? If he were to strike now, what kind of earth-shattering power would it unleash?
A flood of questions surged within her as she stood silently in the hall, gathering her strength, and asked in a low voice, “What do you want?”
The moment the words left her lips, the Bodhisattva became acutely aware—she had sounded weak.
Unable to discern his true strength or gauge his depth, she felt more uneasy facing him than she had confronting the Blood Sea Rakshasa!
What realm had he reached? Had he already ascended to the realm of immortality?
“What do you want?” Mu Yunle, standing beside her, widened her eyes, glancing between the Bodhisattva and Master Zhen Ding. She knew the Bodhisattva was acquainted with the monk and had come to the temple to meet him, yet why did her tone carry a hint of fear?
Yes, she hadn’t misheard. The current Bodhisattva of Joy, ranked eighth on the Earth List and second on the Black List, showed fear toward the lone monk of this wild temple, Master Zhen Ding!
Earlier, she had seen the Bodhisattva repeatedly attempt to escape, only to always end up back in the same place, leaving her puzzled and confused.
Thump, thump, thump—the hollow sound echoed. The gray-robed monk, Meng Qi, did not open his eyes, nor did he answer or attack.
Silence filled the hall. The lotuses bloomed especially pure after the rain.
Yet the Bodhisattva of Joy felt suffocated, the oppressive and stagnant air thickening into a tangible force. Her thoughts raced as she studied his attire. Suddenly inspired, she opened her “Medicinal Pouch,” releasing small supplements, medicinal residues, and snacks—her usual companions for replenishment—including the unconscious Liang Jiuzhou.
After doing so, she looked up at Su Meng, who remained unchanged, steadily tapping the wooden fish.
Thump, thump, thump.
The Bodhisattva hesitated, her hands entwined with the Joyful Weaving, her lotus-like steps retreating slowly. Her throat grew dry, and her heartbeat became uncontrollable.
Suddenly, sunlight bathed her face, warm and radiant.
“I’ve come out… I’ve left the temple…” The Bodhisattva of Joy paused, overwhelmed by a sense of deliverance, as if she had escaped a nightmare and returned to reality.
After the mountain rain, a rainbow arched across the sky, dreamlike and surreal.
Only now did the Bodhisattva realize her pores were slightly out of control, her back soaked in sweat, her skin faintly visible.
She turned to flee but suddenly looked back at the gray-robed monk, Meng Qi, her expression a mixture of confusion and bewilderment:
“Why didn’t you strike?”
If he had attacked, she would have had less than a ten percent chance of escaping with her life!
This was not a rational analysis, but an instinctive premonition.
Indeed, why didn’t he strike…? Mu Yunle, still inside the temple, was also puzzled. Was that all there was to it?
Finally, the Bodhisattva saw Su Meng turn his head. His eyes were dead, devoid of emotion or the faintest spark of hope. He tapped the wooden fish again but did not answer. Instead, he murmured softly, “The sea of suffering is boundless; turn back, and the shore awaits.”
His voice was low and indifferent, reaching the ears of both the Bodhisattva of Joy and Mu Yunle.
“The sea of suffering is boundless; turn back, and the shore awaits…” The Bodhisattva frowned, refraining from further questions. She summoned her divine light and fled in panic.
She dared not linger, fearing that the “Furious Saber” Su Meng might regret his restraint. He had never shown mercy to evil cultivators!
Watching the Bodhisattva flee, Mu Yunle stood in stunned silence for a long time before realizing she had been saved, no longer fearing she might become the next Bodhisattva of Joy!
At this moment, sharp-minded as she was, she roughly understood the truth. Approaching Meng Qi, she bowed gracefully: “Thank you, Master, for saving me.”
The Bodhisattva of Joy had certainly not come to the ruined temple willingly. Most likely, Master Zhen Ding, out of compassion, had intervened to rescue her!
He possessed the power and cultivation to make even the Bodhisattva of Joy tremble slightly. He should have been a figure commanding the world, yet instead, he had secluded himself in a remote mountain, guarding a ruined temple, a stone Buddha, and a lotus pond, year after year. His story was even more extraordinary and moving than she had imagined!
Curiosity filled Mu Yunle’s heart. This was a senior master with a rare and captivating tale.
At this moment, she heard Master Zhen Ding sigh softly, put away the wooden fish, and slowly rise. His gray monk’s robe was tattered and worn. Then, as if speaking to himself, he said, “Let’s go.”
It was time to leave. What was destined to come would inevitably arrive.
“Go… where?” Mu Yunle instinctively asked.
“The Bodhisattva of Joy has left. This place is no longer peaceful.” Meng Qi stepped slowly toward the temple gate.
Mu Yunle suddenly understood. The Master had shown mercy, sparing the Bodhisattva’s life, which meant exposing his hidden retreat. In the future, it would inevitably attract attacks from the Demon Sage, the Dharma King, and others.
She glanced at the unconscious Liang Jiuzhou and others on the ground: “Master, what about them?”
Meng Qi continued walking without turning back: “They will awaken shortly. Watch over them.”
Mu Yunle’s eyes sparkled. She thought to herself that since they would awaken soon, it hardly mattered whether she watched them or not. She might as well follow the Master and see where he was going, perhaps uncovering his true identity and the story behind him.
As she glanced at Liang Jiuzhou and the others, she slowly made her way toward the door, asking cheerfully: “Master, Master, where are you going?”
Meng Qi stepped across the threshold. The sunlight was dazzling, a stark contrast to the gloom inside the hall, as if he had instantly emerged from the underworld back into reality.
Where to go? Yes, where to go?
After ten years of sitting still, how had the world changed?
…
Inside the ruined temple.
Liang Jiuzhou slowly regained consciousness, looking around in confusion. He saw the sorrowful Buddha statue and the blooming lotuses.
“How did I return to the ruined temple? Didn’t I encounter the Bodhisattva of Joy?” He was momentarily dazed, searching his memory.
Had someone rescued him from the Bodhisattva’s grasp?
In this vast world, who could save someone from the Bodhisattva of Joy?
The ruined temple, Master Zhen Ding…
Master Zhen Ding!
Liang Jiuzhou suddenly jumped up, his eyes shining, his whole body trembling.
Was it him?
Could it really be him!
…
The Bodhisattva of Joy flew into the grasslands, her mood heavy, unwilling to immediately meet her disciples. Looking around, she suddenly noticed a Qi-opening expert wandering the steppes.
“I don’t care about the medicinal residue anymore.” The Bodhisattva clenched her teeth, preparing to fly over and perform her soul-siphoning act to soothe her heart.
As this thought arose, a low, indifferent voice suddenly echoed in her ear: “The sea of suffering is boundless; turn back, and the shore awaits.”
“The sea of suffering is boundless; turn back, and the shore awaits…” Startled, the Bodhisattva hastily summoned her lotus throne to protect herself.
Her senses extended outward, yet the surroundings were empty. Where was the gray-robed monk, Su Meng?
The Bodhisattva frowned thoughtfully. Then, she released the defenses of her Nine-Petaled Lotus Throne and silently entertained the evil thought of performing her soul-siphoning act.
The moment this thought arose, a sound like the evening drum and morning bell rang in her ears:
“The sea of suffering is boundless; turn back, and the shore awaits.”
The sound dispelled all evil thoughts.
How could this be… how could he do this… The Bodhisattva trembled involuntarily, instinctively expanding her Nine-Petaled Lotus Throne.
Now, any evil thought no longer triggered the voice of “The sea of suffering is boundless; turn back, and the shore awaits.”
The Bodhisattva of Joy was stunned. In other words, she could only entertain evil thoughts while protected by the Nine-Petaled Lotus Throne.
But how could she perform her soul-siphoning act like this?
Su Meng was simply beyond comprehension!
What realm had he reached?
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