The inverted swastika, swirling with red and black hues, grew larger and larger, like a colossal palm encompassing the infinite universe, staining the heavens crimson and defiling the void, as it thundered toward Meng Qi and the others. Evil intent and malevolent thoughts transformed into layers of abyssal darkness, accompanied by the proclamation, “A-nan is dead; the Demon Buddha reigns!”—a declaration that severely shook their minds.
Yet Meng Qi did not move, nor did Jiang Zhiwei or Xuan Bei. Wang Dashizi, in his frenzied state, certainly did not move either, for the inverted swastika was merely a lingering shadow, lacking even a trace of its ancient, weakened essence. It could frighten but not harm.
It seemed this move, “Tathagata Reversal Palm,” had been forcibly intercepted by the Demon Cultivator, dissipating most of its power, leaving it now merely an empty shell.
Meng Qi’s gray-robed monk was now tinged with red and black. He clenched his hands tightly before slowly relaxing them, his gaze like a dry well with no discernible bottom, reflecting the scene before him.
The Demon Buddha was a supreme demonic force who had swept across the world, prompting the Buddha himself to intervene and suppress him!
His name alone symbolized the last great calamity. The era of the Demon Buddha ended the Middle Ancient Age, forcing the legendary great beings like the hidden Moonlight Bodhisattva to perish, compelling many sects to retreat into hidden sanctuaries, and plunging the universe into chaos for years until it gradually recovered, eventually reaching the Near Ancient Age.
He had traversed the Human Emperor’s Ancient Path and explored the Dragon Platform. Praised by Gao Lan alongside the Human Emperor, Heavenly Emperor, and Holy Buddha, he was undoubtedly another figure who had crossed the “Other Shore”—a truly great being!
Yet such a great being had emerged as if from a stone, with no known origins, shrouded in mystery, suddenly appearing in the Middle Ancient Age and unleashing a catastrophic upheaval. Hence, many suspected him to be an outsider or an ancient cultivator who had hidden himself until now. Only the Hegemon was considered the sole self-proclaimed legend after the Middle Ancient Age.
Now, everything was clear.
To follow the path leads to Buddhahood; to oppose it makes one a demon. The Demon Buddha was none other than A-nan Venerable, unable to relinquish his inner attachment, who had cultivated the Tathagata Palm in reverse. Through this, he finally broke through all barriers, crossed the sea of suffering, and reached the Other Shore!
No wonder the Demon Buddha’s tribulation had drawn the Buddha himself—A-nan had always been one of his ten most outstanding disciples…
No wonder A-nan’s Pure Land was littered with severed limbs and bloodstained ground, resembling a demonic wasteland…
No wonder even someone as mighty as Bodhidharma was affected, his inner attachments and malice amplified, giving rise to the Evil Bodhidharma, ultimately leading to his demise in old age…
No wonder the《Yijin Jing》could be cultivated in reverse, transforming Duan Rui into a demon—the origin lay here: the “Tathagata Palm” itself was a path where following it led to Buddhahood, while opposing it led to demonhood…
No wonder it was so easy for Buddhist disciples to fall into demonic paths…
No wonder when Bodhidharma destroyed his own evil thoughts and sealed the entrance, he was still affected, leaving a “backdoor” that allowed those cultivating《Yijin Jing》in reverse to bypass the seal and open the stone door…
A single thought could lead Anan from Buddhahood to demonhood, and another thought could bring him back to Buddhahood. Entering the mortal world for rebirth and trials, he ultimately could not escape his “self.” Had he known this beforehand, when facing the Yao Sage’s spear aimed at “faithless betrayers,” would he still have chosen reincarnation so resolutely?
By the time one could trace back through the river of time, the beloved was already gone, past, present, and future extinguished…
A slight ripple stirred in Meng Qi’s long-sealed heart, filled with realization and emotion.
Many doubts were clarified, and many suspicions confirmed. Meng Qi let out a complex sigh: “So it was…”
So it was… the ever-reincarnating A-nan had long “died,” leaving only the Demon Buddha behind!
And since the Demon Buddha had been suppressed by the Buddha, he needed someone like him—a fish that slipped through the net—to break free?
Deep within the Vulture Peak, was that where the Buddha had sealed the Demon Buddha A-nan?
And what was the Great Sage’s mighty golden staff suppressing?
What was the relationship between the Master of the Six Paths and the Demon Buddha? One moment guiding tasks to unravel these secrets and reveal the truth behind the scenes, yet the next moment sending him to Vulture Peak?
As mysteries unraveled, new questions arose. Meng Qi withdrew his gaze and looked at the madly laughing, clearly deranged Wang Siyuan, vaguely guessing what he meant by the “Wang family’s knot.”
During the chaos caused by the Demon Buddha, although the Jiangdong Wang Clan had remained low-key for a long time, their reputation still shone brightly, making them one of the most powerful forces in the world, second only to those guarded by legendary great beings. Yet such a mighty clan had not been attacked by the Demon Buddha, unlike Lanke Temple, where great Bodhisattvas perished and the temple nearly collapsed. Moreover, the Wang Clan itself seemed unaware of the reason. Coupled with the mysterious disappearance and eventual demise of their ancestor, the “Numerology Sage,” it inevitably formed a “mental knot.”
Now, knowing A-nan was the Demon Buddha, no wonder Wang Siyuan laughed aloud, claiming understanding.
The Numerology Sage, for unknown reasons, had divined that A-nan would become the source of the next great calamity. He entered the Pure Land, found a reincarnation of A-nan, and made him kill himself, thus transferring the greatest karmic debt of “protecting the Jiangdong Wang Clan” onto A-nan. Therefore, during the Demon Buddha calamity, the Wang Clan had passed through unscathed.
All of this had been bought with the Numerology Sage’s own life!
“The divination is never complete, the deed never absolute, the words never fully spoken… no wonder, no wonder!” Wang Siyuan gradually ceased his laughter, his pale, sickly face still streaked with blood, creating a stark contrast.
Jiang Zhiwei watched the slowly vanishing “inverted swastika” and mused thoughtfully: “Why would there be residual breath and words?”
This was not like a scene recorded by someone or something. The person involved was unaware. These were merely lingering traces of breath, reenacting the past. Why hadn’t the Demon Buddha erased them? Did he deliberately leave them behind, perhaps as a memento?
“Amitabha, when A-nan fell into demonhood, there must have been a ‘struggle’ between him and the Demon Buddha. The destruction of the seventh layer of formation and the ruined peak attests to that. A few residual traces of breath are normal,” Xuan Bei speculated based on Buddhist logic.
He spoke of Ananda and the Demon Buddha separately, just like Bodhidharma and Evil Bodhidharma, or the virtuous and malevolent versions of Duan Rui. Of course, their outcomes differed—the Demon Buddha merged with Ananda, the evil Duan Rui merged with the good Duan Rui, but Bodhidharma, with immense willpower, wisdom, and resolve, severed and vanquished Evil Bodhidharma, sacrificing himself without hesitation.
Wang Siyuan slowly walked back, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth as he spoke: “Judging from the residual traces here, after becoming the Demon Buddha, A-nan immediately left the Pure Land and never returned. For him, this place would stir his thoughts, where goodness breeds evil, and evil nurtures goodness again, allowing A-nan to be reborn. Therefore, he would not return to the Pure Land until he reached the Other Shore. And after reaching the Other Shore, perhaps he had not yet returned when the Buddha suppressed him, hence these lingering traces remain until today.”
He deduced the most likely scenario based on the condition of the mountain and the Pure Land.
After speaking, Wang Siyuan paused, looked at Meng Qi, and smiled faintly: “And after the Demon Cultivator reached the peak, he did not destroy these lingering traces, obviously believing this clue would benefit him if we discovered it.”
“That must be it,” Meng Qi replied concisely.
What was the benefit?
Jiang Zhiwei sighed: “Apart from the aspiration to reach the Other Shore and attain true liberation, A-nan must have harbored an implacable enemy he could not forsake. What kind of adversary and past vendetta drove him to betray the Yao Sage, plunge into reincarnation, and willingly forsake Buddhahood to become a demon, never turning back…”
Indeed, what kind of enemy, what kind of past, had driven A-nan to take this step… Meng Qi, Xuan Bei, and Wang Siyuan all pondered this question, but none could find an answer.
What kind of enemy could a reclusive Arhat, seeking Buddhahood, possibly have?
A gentle breeze stirred. In the distant void, a lingering shadow of the Hegemon appeared. Meng Qi had known the Hegemon had once been here when he previously entered A-nan’s Pure Land within the cosmic fragment.
Xuan Bei looked at the phantom and sighed: “It seems the Hegemon’s death is inseparable from the hidden legendary great beings.”
“He offended the taboo by attempting to sever fate and slay the past, thus meeting this end,” Wang Siyuan said calmly, putting away the Luo Shu.
Xuan Bei did not continue on this topic. He spoke solemnly: “Perhaps ‘Demon Cultivator’ Han Guang obtained the nine forms of the ‘Tathagata Palm’ or the reverse cultivation method here. To follow the path leads to heaven; to oppose it leads to demonhood. He has completely merged the inheritances of the Heavenly Emperor and the Nine Heavens. Given time, he will become a calamity like the Demon Buddha. We must take this seriously and inform all sects and noble families as soon as possible.”
With the full story now known, the group wasted no time and left the Pure Land.
After Wang Siyuan crippled Duan Rui’s foundation, he handed him over to Xuan Bei and departed alone, his back frail but his body brimming with a mad, rapidly growing defiance against heaven.
“Seven days from now is the mission. Is there anywhere you’d like to go?” Jiang Zhiwei already understood the true nature of returning to Vulture Peak and secretly asked Meng Qi.
Meng Qi hesitated, his eyelids lowering: “Take me back to that ruined temple.”
Jiang Zhiwei pursed her lips, smiled understandingly, and asked no more.
After parting ways with Xuan Bei, Jiang Zhiwei took Meng Qi back to that remote mountain and the ruined temple where the pond was blooming with lotus flowers.
“How beautiful…” Jiang Zhiwei admired the lotus and turned to leave, her sword soaring into the sky.
Meng Qi walked to the pond’s edge, sat cross-legged, and gazed at the lotus flowers.
…
In the Investiture world, Meng Qi, Kong Zhao, and Master Yu traveled through several feudal states, witnessing the chaos of the era—such as ministers assassinating their lords, dividing the land and becoming lords themselves, or a prince killing his father to ascend the throne, or two states waging war, engulfing cities and causing countless deaths.
Their carriage passed many villages, all littered with bones, devoid of life.
Kong Zhao wore a sorrowful expression, often sighing at the sight.
“Do you have any thoughts?” Suddenly, the half-closed-eyed “Lao Dan” Meng Qi asked.
Kong Zhao straightened his posture and solemnly replied: “The world has lost the Dao; the root is simply lack of benevolence.”
“What is benevolence?” Meng Qi asked slowly.
Kong Zhao raised his head and answered: “To restrain oneself and return to propriety is benevolence.”
After speaking, he looked at Meng Qi: “Teacher, what do you think?”
“Let’s see more…” Meng Qi seemed to sigh, not answering directly, and closed his eyes again.
Yet in his heart echoed the words of the Dao De Jing: “Therefore, after losing the Dao came virtue, after losing virtue came benevolence, after losing benevolence came righteousness, after losing righteousness came propriety.”
“Propriety is the thin veneer of loyalty and trust, the beginning of chaos!”
…
Seven days passed. Lotus dew fell and regrew. Meng Qi sat motionless by the pond, watching the sun rise and set.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed, and a figure rushed in—it was the “Brocade Weaver Hermit” Shao Changge.
She gazed at Meng Qi’s back, swallowed hard, and said: “I came here because my mistress once left me a message. She said if I ever encountered you, I should pass it on.”
“What is it?” Meng Qi slowly stood up.
When Shao Changge gave the answer, Meng Qi froze again, his face unable to suppress his grief. He turned back to look at the lotus:
The flower has bloomed. Where are you?
…
Late at night, as the mission was about to begin, Meng Qi closed his eyes, suddenly stood up, and stepped forward, piercing through layers of void, appearing outside the Shaolin Temple!
Stars dotted the sky, the night vast and endless. The Shaolin Temple was unusually quiet, living up to its reputation as a serene Buddhist sanctuary.
Meng Qi’s arrival drew no attention. He walked step by step to the main gate, his gaze deep and distant.
This journey to Vulture Peak might be one with no return.
All the blessings and protections, perhaps all in vain.
Disciple will disappoint Master’s expectations…
Slowly kneeling, he placed both hands on the ground and bowed slowly toward the main gate of the Shaolin Temple.
This act had nothing to do with wind or moon.
In this lifetime, only you are my master!
He stood up, turned his head, and walked down the steps, heading into the distance. His bald head grew dark hair, his temples graying. His gray robe transformed into a green robe, and a long saber appeared in his hand.
Ten years as a solitary monk, ten years of lotus watching. Today, he becomes the “Wild Saber” once more.
Hatred surges wildly. Where the saber points, destruction follows!
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