Where the Buddhist temple originally stood, the great radiance faded, and Jiang Zhiwei regained her senses. Yet, around her, there was no one else. Meng Qi, Ruan Yushu, and Zhao Heng were gone, as was the golden body of Mahakasyapa. It seemed as though the stars had shifted in an instant.
This was unrelated to the infinite radiance released when Mahakasyapa unfurled his fist—it could only affect perception, not the movement of space itself. Someone else must have deliberately caused this. To make both Meng Qi and herself unaware, as if everything were ordinary, even amidst the great radiance, was no ordinary feat. It must have directly invoked the fundamental laws of heaven and earth, compelling them to temporarily change. Jiang Zhiwei’s heart stirred. Sword in hand, she quickly approached the temple, trying to find any clue.
She had taken but a few steps forward when the Buddhist temple, with its glazed-tile roof and golden bricks, suddenly crumbled as if crushed by a terrifying force from above.
Jiang Zhiwei looked up. On the dark-fissured mountain path, a blue lion slowly descended. Its fur was mottled, covered with signs of decay, black vapors and white mist seeping in and out. With each step, it flattened the cracks and subdued the fierce winds, walking as if on flat ground.
Riding atop the blue lion sat a Bodhisattva. His face and body were pure white, wearing a celestial crown with five topknots, symbolizing the five kinds of wisdom in Buddhism—such as the Mirror-like Wisdom and the Wisdom of the Nature of the Dharma Realm—corresponding respectively to the first five consciousnesses, the sixth consciousness (mind), the seventh (manas), the eighth (alaya), and the ninth, the synthesis of all eight. His right hand held a sword of wisdom, while his left supported a pure blue lotus, upon which rested a Prajna Sutra. Unlike the blue lion beneath him, he remained untouched by the deathly mist, exuding great purity and compassion.
Yet, his eyes, which should have brimmed with wisdom, were hollow and lifeless, seeing through countless universes but failing to perceive his own nature.
Jiang Zhiwei sighed inwardly, elevating her mind into the state of Supreme Emotionlessness, suppressing all feelings like worry and anxiety beneath it, treating them without distinction.
The Bodhisattva before her was a formidable opponent, equal to Mahakasyapa. He was the wisdom-representing Bodhisattva of Buddhism, one of the four most powerful Bodhisattvas universally recognized in all pure lands (Manjusri for wisdom, Samantabhadra for action, Avalokitesvara for compassion, and Ksitigarbha for great vows), surpassing other great Bodhisattvas.
He was none other than Manjusri Bodhisattva!
One of the two attendants beside the Buddha!
Who could have imagined that Manjusri also perished in the battle at Vulture Peak, leaving only his golden body behind, manipulated by petty villains!
The dark fissures gradually calmed as Manjusri approached, and a faint sense of purity emerged around.
Supreme Emotionlessness sees purity and impurity as one. Jiang Zhiwei manifested her dharma form, gathered sword intent, and raised her sword. Manjusri raised his sword of wisdom.
…
When Zhao Heng regained sight of himself, he was already standing before a dry waterfall. In the distance, flashes of lightning and blooming and fading blue lotuses surrounded the golden staff standing proudly in the sky. The area was riddled with dark fissures, yet the waterfall’s remains somehow persisted.
Zhao Heng didn’t move, for atop the waterfall stood a giant golden-winged roc, wearing a “crown” on its head. Its sharp beak was stained with golden blood, brimming with immense power!
This was the true golden-winged roc, soaring ninety thousand miles into the sky. Was it the offspring of the ancient demon sovereign, subdued by the Buddha, or the great sage known as the Roc Demon King?
In any case, it was a myth reborn. Even the lingering aura after its death chilled him to the bone. Especially that sharp beak—it filled him with dread, as if it were his natural nemesis.
That golden blood was likely the blood of the celestial dragon… the roc had always suppressed dragons and serpent-like beings. This made Zhao Heng, who claimed the title of “Dragon Son of Heaven,” equally vulnerable! Zhao Heng quickly deduced the cause.
The golden-winged roc had not revealed its true form—otherwise, this place could not contain it. Its eyes were blood-red, devoid of any trace of life, only a sinister coldness. Its claws pierced the void, reaching into different universes, and its feathers were tinged slightly with gray and white.
“To have directly encountered such an enemy…” Zhao Heng gave a faint bitter smile, then suddenly flicked his right hand, summoning a majestic, dignified sword.
The golden-winged roc lowered its head, its crimson eyes fixed on Zhao Heng, unmoved by coldness.
…
Ruan Yushu held the Qifeng Qin, while the surrounding Charming Moonlight was shaken by fierce winds. Before him loomed a colossal being!
If Dangshan Jun coiled up like a small mountain, this creature was mountain-sized—towering and immense. Yet strangely, despite its enormous size, it could curl up at the mountain pass, without stretching into the sky among the dark fissures or spreading its body to cover the surrounding area. It was as if Mount Sumeru could be hidden within a mustard seed.
The massive creature had the head of a horse, eyes resembling those of a turtle, a serpentine neck, and antlers akin to a deer’s. Its entire body was pure white, with scales as large as doors, emanating a faint glazed radiance—clearly, it was a celestial dragon!
Its eyes were as large as lakes, hollow inside, with only a trace of unwillingness lingering.
For some reason, Ruan Yushu suddenly recalled a little tune Meng Qi had once sung carelessly while discussing Journey to the West:
“White Dragon Horse, hooves westward.”
…
In the Fengshen World.
Prince Yu drove through several vassal states, large and small, witnessing many places now filled with licentious shrines, where numerous demons and monsters donned the guise of deities. Some cultivators walked openly among mortals, interfering in human affairs without restraint.
Consequently, some regions were chaotic, plagued by endless warfare and internal strife. Others appeared peaceful on the surface, yet due to the presence of licentious shrines, their good customs had deteriorated, and benevolence had vanished, brewing deeper crises.
“Several lords lack wisdom, allowing this to happen unchecked,” Kong Zhao lamented upon witnessing this, eager to do something to end the chaos.
Meng Qi, who appeared to be sleeping with his eyes closed, suddenly opened his eyes. His voice, hoarse yet magnetic, asked, “What is wisdom?”
“To serve the people with righteousness, to revere ghosts and spirits but keep them at a distance—that is wisdom,” Kong Zhao replied thoughtfully, meaning that devoting oneself to serving the people and respecting ghosts and spirits while staying away from them is wisdom.
After speaking, Kong Zhao fixed his gaze on Meng Qi, awaiting his teacher’s guidance.
Yet Meng Qi closed his eyes again, saying nothing, merely sighing inwardly:
“Governing a great nation is like cooking a small fish. Rule the world with the Dao, and even ghosts will lose their divine power!”
When the world is guided by the Dao, there is no room for ghosts and spirits to exist or to harm living beings.
His view shared similarities with Kong Zhao’s but was ultimately vastly different!
…
Did the one deep within Vulture Peak intend for me to weaken twice, then exhaust myself completely, ensuring absolute certainty?
As Meng Qi’s thoughts stirred slightly, his body suddenly became intangible, as if merging into the void, moving indistinctly—forward, backward, left, right—difficult to distinguish.
He still chose to evade Mahakasyapa by using the Void Seal and the Infinite Seal to confuse directional characteristics.
A towering dark golden figure, with clenched fists, a smiling mouth, and feet treading on udumbara flowers, stretched out its right hand. A brilliant radiance swept across, sealing the void rifts. The dark golden palm unfurled its five fingers, enveloping Meng Qi. Though reminiscent of the “Pure Land in the Palm” technique from the Tathagata Palm, it bore a distinct Zen Buddhist essence—utterly unique in its manifestation.
With up and down, left and right in chaos, Meng Qi quietly vanished.
Suddenly, a dark-gold palm appeared above his head, hundreds of feet wide, descending like a golden cloud.
He sidestepped and tore through the void. Seizing the moment when no spatial rifts were nearby, he fled over ten miles—only to find the massive dark-golden palm waiting directly ahead!
At that moment, up and down, left and right twisted strangely, and Meng Qi and the dark-gold palm exchanged positions mysteriously!
Under normal circumstances, Meng Qi could have easily escaped far away. Yet before him was another dark-gold Buddha palm!
Omnipresent, encompassing all. Even the most profound techniques seemed unable to escape this mountain of five fingers!
Only by drawing his blade or sword and cutting a path through?
Meng Qi sighed inwardly, making a decision, and cast forth an object.
He hadn’t expected to use it so soon.
The following text is translated into English:
It was a massive skeleton, dark and deep, yet glowing with white brilliance, seemingly connected to the void in various places.
In midair, numerous figures naturally emerged—imperial-robed underworld rulers, war-godlike deities clad in deep armor, and many others, jointly supporting a blood-yellow illusory river. No one knew where it originated or where it flowed, but it was beyond the dark-gold Buddha palm’s grasp!
The Yellow Spring Skeleton versus Mahakasyapa’s Remnant!
The controllers were none other than Meng Qi and the one deep within Vulture Peak!
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