The monstrous aura that seemed to press down on the entire Tianhaiyuan and cause it to tremble could only interfere with Meng Qi and the others mentally, unable to truly invade the “A Handspan Away, a Thousand Miles Apart” space. Moreover, it seemed to have some reservations, afraid that if it attacked without restraint, it would gain the reputation of bullying the weak, thus drawing the attention of senior monks from the Lanke Temple.
This last point was Meng Qi’s speculation, as a powerful demonic clan that occupied a “paradise beyond the mundane world” should possess its own clan-treasured divine weapon, just like the Shaolin’s A-nan Saber or the Sword Washing Pavilion’s Zhanwo Sword.
However, since the opponent—for whatever reason—had not summoned their treasured weapon, Meng Qi naturally had no intention of pressing further and inviting unnecessary trouble. Supporting Gu Changqing and Zhen Hui, he steadily followed Hong Neng along the river toward a pale blue, translucent lake.
The lake lay on a plateau, where the river defied natural law by flowing upward. When Meng Qi and Hong Neng reached the edge of the plateau, the sky suddenly brightened. The giant white fox had disappeared, and strangely, an ancient and unadorned Buddhist temple had appeared atop the plateau, its bell tolling far and wide, exuding solemnity and grandeur.
A mountain path led from the temple downward, winding to where Meng Qi and his companions stood, as if waiting for them to ascend.
Hong Neng inhaled deeply, knelt down, prostrated himself fully, and began to bow devoutly while chanting Buddhist prayers.
“Senior Brother Hong Neng?” Meng Qi asked, puzzled.
With the white fox gone, Gu Changqing and Zhen Hui gradually returned to normal, also watching Hong Neng with confusion.
Hong Neng smiled calmly. “When I entered the temple as a child, I vowed that each time I encountered a Buddhist temple, I would bow three steps and prostrate once, showing sincere reverence to the Buddha.”
“But this is an illusion?” Meng Qi frowned.
Hong Neng shook his head with a smile. “The temple exists in my heart, not elsewhere. Since I ‘see’ it, it is the true Buddhist temple.”
“Huh…” Meng Qi seemed to understand but not quite.
Hong Neng glanced at Meng Qi. “Shaolin belongs to the Chan Sect, and has always taught that one’s own nature is the Buddha. Though this path differs from ours, I deeply believe it to be true. Not on this shore, not on the other shore, not in the middle stream—the Buddha exists only within the mind.”
Meng Qi nodded slightly, recalling the Yangming School’s philosophy of Confucianism—nothing exists outside the mind. He no longer doubted Hong Neng’s choice.
Dang!
The distant bell tolled. Hong Neng knelt and bowed with deep devotion, moving forward three steps and one prostration at a time. Meng Qi had never made such a vow, nor did he truly wish to worship the Buddha, so he simply followed quietly, enjoying the sacred calm this situation brought.
This feeling did not come from countless Buddhas in the sky or from chanting prayers, but from the sincere devotion in every prostration.
The mountain path was long, but Hong Neng showed no impatience. As they walked, Meng Qi began circulating the Golden Bell Cover, not out of any desire for battle, but simply to pass the time by cultivating, hoping to complete the fifth stage as soon as possible. Only upon completing the fifth stage and beginning the sixth could he refine the acupoints related to the nose and mouth. Otherwise, his progress would stagnate.
During the Opening the Orifices stage, the fifth stage of Golden Bell Cover corresponded to the eyes and ears, the sixth to the nose and mouth, the seventh to the front and back lower orifices, allowing the inner world to form a cycle. The eighth stage refined the ancestral orifice at the forehead’s center, opening the mysterious pass of life and death, where the inner and outer worlds met, including the Half-Step Beyond-Scenery and true breakthrough.
They walked for an unknown length of time when Meng Qi suddenly turned to Gu Changqing and Zhen Hui, puzzled. “Do you feel like cultivation is especially fast here? Just now, an hour felt like a whole day’s worth of training.”
“Really?” Gu Changqing, immersed in the solemn and devout atmosphere, hadn’t tried cultivating yet. He was quite startled and immediately tested it. After a moment, he exclaimed in astonishment, “Yes! This truly is a sacred land for cultivation!”
“Mm, the little mouse digs really fast.” Zhen Hui nodded heavily, looking quite pleased with himself.
Meanwhile, Hong Neng remained devoted to his worship, completely ignoring their conversation.
After confirming his suspicions, Meng Qi felt both surprised and delighted. He seized the opportunity to cultivate, since he was merely walking unconsciously and not engaged in battle.
Approximately a day later, the dark golden glow around Meng Qi grew increasingly bright. Crackling sounds like popping beans echoed continuously, indicating the transformation of his body.
Eventually, the dark golden light gathered into a dazzling beam shooting into the sky, making Meng Qi appear like an arhat bathed in Buddha’s light.
The light gradually dimmed, and Meng Qi opened his eyes, realizing that he had completed the fifth stage of Golden Bell Cover. Moreover, since his body had been tempered by divine thunder essence and his true sword intent from A-nan’s Saber Breaking Art secretly aligned with Buddhist principles, he sealed it as a first-grade technique. Not only did the Zhong Dan protective weak point at his chest disappear, but the one at his back also solidified into a unified strength, no longer a vulnerability.
At this stage, Meng Qi only had thirteen weak points remaining—his nine natural orifices, plus the dantian, temples, glabella, and throat. These would gradually disappear as his Golden Bell Shield improved, but before attaining the Dharma Body, one weak point would always persist, no matter how diligently he trained.
“A day’s cultivation equals a month’s hard work.” Meng Qi chuckled. Although he had already been close to completing the fifth stage, he still expected it to take about a month of arduous training. He never imagined that the trials of Tianhaiyuan would actually help him.
Hong Neng had already reached the temple’s entrance, bowing before stepping inside, when suddenly the plateau, lake, and temple all shimmered like water ripples and then vanished without a trace.
Meng Qi looked around in confusion, seeing only deep canyons, barren gravel, and complex terrain, as if the previous lush landscapes and highland seas had been nothing but a dream.
“A dream of cooked millet…” Meng Qi sighed softly.
Hong Neng smiled. “The demonic clans of Tianhaiyuan have given up. I shall escort you to the Tanhan Oasis.”
At this point, they had already deeply entered Tanhan, merely an hour or two’s journey from the oasis.
“Hehe, thanks to Senior Brother Hong Neng’s miraculous ‘A Handspan Away, a Thousand Miles Apart,’ the demons gave up and retreated.” Meng Qi sincerely expressed his gratitude.
Hong Neng clasped his hands together, showing no trace of pride. “Amitabha, they also had good intentions and gave up early. Otherwise, I would have had to hold on for half a day more, and I truly don’t know if I could have managed.”
Gu Changqing and Zhen Hui also thanked Hong Neng. Upon reaching the Tanhan Oasis, heading south led to the Evil Ridge, and eastward to Liusha Gathering. With caution, they could evade the horse bandits’ pursuit.
Suddenly, Hong Neng seemed to remember something. “A day in the mountains equals a thousand years in the world. Although Tianhaiyuan doesn’t reach that level, it has a similar effect. Junior Brother Zhen Ding, don’t misjudge the passage of time.”
“A day in the mountains equals a thousand years in the world?” Meng Qi was first startled, then suddenly understood. “No wonder cultivation here for a day equates to a month’s worth of progress. So, outside, nearly a month must have already passed.”
A month had passed. The Shaolin reinforcements should have already arrived, perhaps even rescued his master, gone to the Jingang Temple, searched in vain for himself and the others, and then returned.
Of course, this was good news for Meng Qi. He wouldn’t be “taken back” to Shaolin, and after a month’s disappearance, the horse bandits probably assumed they had already returned to the Central Plains. Without the net-like pursuit, he could simply drop off his junior brother at the foot of Shaolin Mountain and then vanish like a dragon into the sea—ha ha!
Thinking of this, Meng Qi couldn’t help but smile.
Before long, the four reached the oasis and entered the market. Since they had changed their appearance at Yuhai, and the number of people and timing were all different, Meng Qi wasn’t afraid of being recognized. He was about to invite Hong Neng to a restaurant for a meal.
Hong Neng smiled and shook his head. “Amitabha, when fate comes, it comes; when it departs, it departs. I still have great vows to fulfill. Let us part ways here.”
Meng Qi knew of his ascetic practices and did not insist. He clasped his hands and said, “Amitabha, Senior Brother Hong Neng, if you ever need help in the future, just let your junior brother know.”
“If fate allows, we shall meet again.” Hong Neng looked at the three of them, nodded with a smile, and turned away, walking off with ease.
“Lanke Temple is truly mysterious,” Gu Changqing sighed deeply.
Meng Qi nodded slightly, then smiled broadly toward the restaurant. “It’s been a whole ‘month’ since I’ve had meat—I can’t wait!”
But in reality, it had only felt like a day… Gu Changqing’s mouth twitched slightly.
“Senior Brother, you’ve already opened your orifices. According to the precepts, you shouldn’t consume meat anymore,” Zhen Hui said solemnly to Meng Qi.
Meng Qi’s expression froze, then slowly collapsed. He had completely forgotten his identity as a Shaolin disciple.
Coughing a few times, Meng Qi turned serious and said to Zhen Hui, “Junior Brother, only after returning to Shaolin, recording your name at the Miscellaneous Affairs Courtyard and the Precept Courtyard, are you officially recognized as having entered the Opening the Orifices stage and must follow its precepts.”
“Is that so?” Zhen Hui scratched his head, slightly confused.
“Yes,” Meng Qi replied with a face urging belief.
“Okay then.” Zhen Hui said cheerfully. “Then let’s hurry and eat some meat!”
Meng Qi’s smile returned. He walked ahead into the restaurant, choosing a quiet spot convenient for escaping to the back courtyard, and ordered roasted lamb legs and other dishes.
Then, he slightly tilted his head, his ears subtly twitching as he listened to other customers’ conversations, trying to fill in the information gap from the past month.
Gu Changqing did the same. Although he hadn’t yet opened his ear orifice, many people were speaking loudly, and their voices could be heard throughout the restaurant. Only Zhen Hui sat with his eyes fixed longingly on the kitchen, waiting for the food.
“Have you heard? The Jingang Temple has backed down?”
“Of course. Their abbot in charge of external affairs, the Dharma King Lun Kong, committed suicide. His body was sent before the three Shaolin senior monks. It was said that Lun Kong coveted Shaolin’s secret techniques, so he trained spies to steal them. When discovered, he feared exposure and sought out the reclusive old man Ku Lao, inciting him to kill the senior monk Xuanbei, attempting to directly provoke an open conflict between the two temples. However, Xuanbei not only survived Ku Lao’s attack but, after more than ten days of battle, repelled him. Though severely injured, Xuanbei used this opportunity to break through to the peak of the Beyond-Scenery stage. Thus, Lun Kong’s plot failed, and he had no choice but to commit suicide in atonement.”
“Suicide? Although Lun Kong was a Grandmaster at the seventh level of the Beyond-Scenery stage, he likely lacked the strength to bypass the other Dharma Kings to carry out such deeds. Haha, a good suicide, a good suicide! What did the three senior monks of Shaolin say?”
“What could they say? With a Grandmaster having committed suicide, and Jingang Temple having paid a heavy price and submitted, Shaolin suffered no real damage. If they didn’t want to provoke an all-out war, naturally they accepted the situation and called it quits.”
Upon hearing this, Meng Qi immediately felt relieved. His master not only survived unscathed but had also broken through to the peak of the Beyond-Scenery stage—this was truly great news!
“Do you know where those two Shaolin disciples went? After causing such a commotion in the Vast Sea, they suddenly vanished. Could they have been captured and secretly executed by the horse bandits of the Evil Ridge?”
“Impossible! When the two senior monks from Shaolin arrived, every notorious horse bandit involved in the incident across the Vast Sea went into hiding. Even the leaders of the Evil Ridge, those with nine or eight orifices, secretly fled the mountain and vanished without a trace. Only the ‘Evil Scholar’ Kang Zhi and two leaders with seven orifices remained behind.”
“Right. If they had captured the Shaolin disciples, aside from settling a grudge, why would they kill Gu Changqing’s parents and siblings?”
Bang! The wooden chopsticks in Gu Changqing’s hand fell onto the table. His face turned pale, his eyes hollow and vacant.
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