Chapter 918: The Alchemical Cauldron

The moon did not obscure the stars, and the swaying tree shadows danced like demons.

The figure in the green robe stood straight, the long saber hanging loosely, the shadow accompanying the bright moon, neither leaning left nor right, gradually moving further and further away until disappearing.

Twenty years of martial arts world journey, all decided in a single day of life and death.

…

Familiar divine beast and celestial bird statues, familiar Hanbaiyu floor tiles, familiar misty air, familiar central light pillar, familiar Samsara Plaza, reappeared before Meng Qi.

But today and now, his state of mind was completely different—no fear, no excitement, just quietly observing.

The Tree of the Great Dao had already been withdrawn; there was no need for other exchanges anymore.

A misty light pillar rose, and Zhao Heng, dressed in bright yellow imperial robes, stepped out. He had two streaks of black beard above his lips, his eyes and demeanor much more mature and reserved, exuding a dignified and imperial aura, clearly changed from ten years ago.

When Zhao Heng saw Meng Qi, there was no surprise, no confusion—only a slight smile. He walked toward Meng Qi with the pace of a dragon and tiger, raised his right hand, clenched his fist, and slowly threw a punch.

Meng Qi’s eyes still held a bit of lifeless depth, but his expression softened. He smiled slightly, clenched his right hand into a fist, and struck out, their fists meeting midair with a slap.

Smack!

“We can fight side by side again!” Zhao Heng withdrew his hand with a smile, his words concise, without greetings or questions.

Though ten years had passed, it had not brought estrangement, but everyone had changed under the erosion of time. Zhao Heng had obviously become more silent and dignified.

As Meng Qi was about to speak, two more misty light pillars descended. Jiang Zhiwei, dressed in apricot-yellow robes, held her long sword, just as radiant, graceful, and resolute as ever. She had changed the least, or perhaps had already been tempered by the trials of death long ago.

Ruan Yushu still appeared in her early twenties, wearing white robes, pure and aloof, her hair tied in a bun, cradling an ancient qin. She looked like a fairy descending from the Moon Palace, but the youthful innocence in her eyes and expression had completely vanished, becoming even more ethereal, as if she might ascend to the heavens with a blink.

She glanced at Meng Qi, looked at his graying temples, his eyes still clear and bright, yet his gaze had become even deeper.

She said nothing, quietly putting away the qin, elegantly producing a food container. She walked to Meng Qi, slowly squatted down, placed the container on the ground, opened the lid, and without raising her head, spoke softly, like the sound of a qin:

“Cloud-Mud Date Cake… Dragon Claw Reaching the Clouds… Demon Crab Soup… Clear Stewed Bamboo Shoot Hearts… Five Ways to Eat Dragon Fish…”

Dish after dish was taken out and placed before Meng Qi, each movement of Ruan Yushu perfectly timed with her narration.

Meng Qi watched and listened quietly, his body and mind calm.

“These are all the delicacies I treated you to last time.” Ruan Yushu lifted her head, gazing at Meng Qi, her lips unconsciously biting, her eyes bright with hope. “But this time, I made them myself.”

Meng Qi clenched his right hand into a fist, touched his lips lightly, closed and opened his eyes, then sat cross-legged and began tasting the food with chopsticks.

“The Cloud-Mud Date Cake was freshly made today; compared to those preserved with formations, it has more natural flavor, even more fragrant…”

“After eating the Cloud-Mud Date Cake, the Dragon Claw Reaching the Clouds, with its crispy bones and slippery skin, produces a unique aroma, indescribably delicious…”

“The Demon Crab Soup doesn’t use crab roe or crab paste, but specifically the two large claws…”

Ruan Yushu spoke each sentence like she had back then, her voice filled with joy. Jiang Zhiwei and Zhao Heng watched with smiles beside her. She had practiced her culinary skills for ten years—how could there be no one to appreciate them?

Meng Qi ate slowly, tasting each dish carefully, and finally finished everything on the plates.

“It tastes better than last time.” Meng Qi put down his bamboo chopsticks, praising earnestly, a faint smile on his face.

Ruan Yushu’s lips curved slightly, her dimples faintly visible, her smile reserved and aloof.

With their current attainments, strength, and accumulated resources from past cycles, there was no need for special exchanges before missions anymore. Anything useful required completing exclusive tasks, which couldn’t be rushed. Most of the accumulated good karma was reserved for future mission deductions and items like divine weapons.

The four sat cross-legged, Jiang Zhiwei recounting amusing experiences from past missions, Zhao Heng and Ruan Yushu occasionally adding a sentence. The atmosphere was calm and peaceful, filled with a quiet, lasting warmth.

Just as Meng Qi thought life would remain beautifully like this forever, the scene before him shifted, and the indifferent, emotionless voice of the Sixfold Samsara Master echoed in his ears.

“After the fall of the Celestial Court, the Demon Sage, taking advantage of the Buddha’s entering Nirvana, led various Great Sages and numerous demon deities to attack the core of the Pure Land of Saha—Vulture Peak. In that battle, all Buddhas attained final Nirvana, and the demons were defeated, leaving only the Demon Sage and a few survivors from Vulture Peak to escape. Since then, Saha has hidden itself, and Vulture Peak lies in ruins, impossible to locate.”

“Main Quest: Return to Vulture Peak, find the final whereabouts of the Great Sages and demon deities. Success grants 15,000 units of good karma; failure deducts accordingly.”

“Side Quest: Investigate the truth behind the ancient battle at Vulture Peak. Success grants the Immortal Cultivation Pill; failure incurs no penalty.”

As the voice faded, Meng Qi and the others had already taken in their surroundings. They were in a ruined grand hall, showing clear signs of time’s erosion and external destruction. A small altar lay ahead, empty, with darkness surrounding it.

“This is the grand hall where the Lamp Before the Buddha was kept…” Jiang Zhiwei recognized the place.

This location was deep within Vulture Peak!

Although Zhao Heng had never been here, after learning about the mission, Jiang Zhiwei and Ruan Yushu had told him of their past experiences in Vulture Peak, so he wasn’t unfamiliar.

After scanning the surroundings, Zhao Heng suddenly sighed, “So Vulture Peak and the Pure Land of Saha are indeed connected.”

This was also what Meng Qi was thinking.

Moreover, the reward for the side quest was the Immortal Cultivation Pill, a pill that could assist in merging spirit and flesh into a Dharma Body. Though not decisive, it could effectively reduce the risk of failure.

At this moment, offering such a pill as a reward, the Sixfold Samsara truly had ulterior motives…

As this thought arose, the entire hall’s condition was clear. Without the Lamp Before the Buddha, there was nothing special left here.

Without hesitation, the four carefully stepped out of the hall.

As soon as they exited, deep within, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Azure lotuses bloomed, each flicker and bloom containing the birth and destruction of worlds, galaxies of stars. A golden staff as thick as a mountain peak stood proudly, stretching from heaven to earth. A thunderous roar echoed through eternity:

“This old Sun in my entire life, does not cultivate for the next life!”

Meng Qi’s eyes flickered, suddenly closing as he listened attentively.

Behind the roar, wave after wave of resentment pierced the sky, endless and ceaseless, voices rising and falling, filled with hatred:

“Ananda!”

…

Beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, immortal grass and rare flowers flourished, and celestial birds and auspicious beasts roamed freely.

Inside a seemingly ordinary palace marked with the plaque “Palace of the Uppermost Bliss,” a Daoist elder sat cross-legged before a Bagua furnace, as if unchanged for millennia.

Suddenly, the golden-eared boy stood up, gazing downward:

“Again, the Western Continent of Aparagodaniya!”

“Could it be…”

He turned to bow, asking in surprise and uncertainty: “Great Master, will you not intervene?”

“Let him be.” The Daoist elder, with white hair but a youthful face, did not open his eyes.

“Why… why not…” the silver-eared boy asked in confusion.

The Daoist elder opened his eyes and sighed: “The final calamity has arrived.”

He pointed a finger, and the Bagua furnace opened, releasing a terrifying beam of light that pierced the sky, breaking through the void and the crystal barrier, entering a dead and silent universe.

Creaking and groaning, the universe on the brink of destruction trembled. The Illusory Long River appeared, its ripples flying out, evolving the past.

An ark first traversed through wormholes in search of habitable planets, but one by one, the stars “died,” annihilating their orbiting worlds.

The entire universe was silent, and the ark’s calls received no response.

Energy sources became scarcer and scarcer. The “star beings” aboard the ark gradually perished, until finally, it became a silver-gray metallic coffin, carrying the “corpse” of a once-great civilization, drifting endlessly in the boundless darkness, unable to find a home.

Time reversed. Across countless galaxies and star systems in the universe, different civilizations thrived—some capable of crossing the Milky Way, others confined to a single planet; some protected by gods, colonizing many worlds; others constantly migrating, countless pests destroying the vitality of planet after planet… wars erupted repeatedly, leaving only the strongest civilization standing…

Going further back, civilizations became fewer and more primitive—wooden clubs, stone tools, animal-skin clothing—while stars burned brightly, some planets still forming, formless matter condensing, and gods being born one by one…

The ripples flickered, returning to the very beginning—endless energy storms, expansion, and extreme chaos.

In the beam of light, the universe shrank smaller and smaller, along with its past and destined future, all collapsing into the Bagua furnace in the form of “past, present, and future” together—silent and still.

The lid closed, the light vanished, and suddenly the alchemy furnace shook violently, clanging and banging.

A scroll unfurled from the Daoist elder’s lap, depicting the Taiji Diagram, forming a golden bridge to the other shore, tightly enveloping the alchemy furnace!

The golden-eared and silver-eared boys both lowered their heads, unable to face it directly. What would emerge from this alchemy furnace was completely unimaginable. Even the mere aura sent chills down their spines, though they both knew one thing clearly:

The name of the one inside the alchemy furnace had once been extraordinarily illustrious!