The old monk did not answer, but his eyes lingered on the two children, particularly on Lin Jingyu. In his heart, he thought: “Such a good talent, but why is his temperament so extreme?”
At that moment, Zhang Xiaofan stepped forward and asked, “Hey, who are you? I’ve never seen you before!”
The village of Caomiao was near the Azure Ethereal Conclave, where Daoism was revered, and Buddhist disciples were rarely seen. Hence, Zhang Xiaofan’s question was not without reason.
The old monk looked at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and countered, “Young donor, just now when your life was in peril, you only needed to admit defeat. Why did you insist on struggling? If it were not for this old monk’s intervention, you might have lost your life in vain!”
Zhang Xiaofan was taken aback, feeling that the old monk had a point, but he could not quite explain why. He stood there, dumbfounded.
Lin Jingyu glared at the old monk, took Zhang Xiaofan by the hand, and said, “Xiaofan, this old monk is strange. Let’s ignore him.” With that, he pulled him toward the door.
The other children followed, clearly accustomed to following Lin Jingyu’s lead.
Zhang Xiaofan subconsciously walked out, but after a short distance, he couldn’t help but look back. The sky was darkening, and he could faintly see the old monk still standing there, his face becoming indistinct in the dim light.
As night fell, a clap of thunder echoed, and the wind swept away the last wisps of clouds, leaving the sky roiling with black clouds.
The storm was brewing, and an ominous air hung heavy in the air.
The old monk remained in the small temple, sitting cross-legged on the ground. He looked up, and in the distance, the Azure Ethereal Mountain was shrouded in a misty haze. The fields were silent, except for the howling wind and the thunder rumbling through the sky.
A great storm was coming!
A bolt of lightning split the sky, momentarily illuminating the little temple. In that brief moment, the old monk stood at the temple door, his face stern, looking up at the sky, his brows furrowing ever tighter.
In the village to the west, a column of black smoke, as thick as ink, began to rise, swirling and churning. The old monk, standing in the temple, fixed his gaze on the dark cloud.
Suddenly, the black cloud rolled and shot towards the village, heading straight for the temple. It moved with incredible speed, reaching the temple in the blink of an eye.
The old monk’s sharp eyes caught a glimpse of a child within the black cloud—it was Lin Jingyu, whom he had seen earlier. His expression darkened, and without hesitation, he leaped into the air, plunging directly into the black cloud.
From the darkness, a voice tinged with surprise sounded: “Huh?”
A series of muffled thuds, and the black cloud abruptly stopped, hovering above the temple.
The old monk, holding Lin Jingyu, descended slowly. Part of his robe had been torn away. In the dim light, Lin Jingyu lay unconscious, his breathing steady, either asleep or in a coma.
The old monk did not set him down but looked up at the black cloud, saying, “Your magical arts are profound, but why attack an innocent child? Do you not fear losing your dignity?”
A raspy voice came from the black cloud, “Who are you, daring to meddle in my affairs?”
The old monk did not answer but said, “This place is under the Azure Ethereal Mountain. If the Azure Ethereal Conclave learns of your misdeeds here, your future will be bleak.”
The man spat, his tone full of disdain, “What is the Azure Ethereal Conclave? They rely on their numbers. Old baldy, don’t say more. Hand over the child, and I’ll let you go.”
The old monk clasped his hands together, “Amitabha, monks are guided by compassion. I cannot stand idly by and let this child suffer at your hands.”
The man’s anger flared, “You bald fool, you seek death.”
As he spoke, a deep red light flashed within the swirling black cloud. A sudden gust of ghostly wind and a surge of evil energy enveloped the small temple.
“Poison Blood Banner!” The old monk’s face contorted with anger, “Wretch, you dare to cultivate such a malevolent and harmful object. I will not let you off today.”
The raspy voice chuckled coldly but did not respond. Instead, a deafening screech was heard, and the red light grew brighter, accompanied by a putrid stench. A blood-red banner, two fathoms in length, rose slowly into the air.
The wailing of ghosts grew louder, as if countless tormented spirits were weeping in the night. There was also a faint sound of bones clattering, chilling to the bone.
“Bald fool, prepare to die!” The man in the black cloud shouted, and from the blood-red banner, a grotesque face appeared, with three horns and four eyes, baring sharp teeth. The bones clattered, and the four eyes suddenly opened, emitting a roar as the face materialized and lunged at the old monk, bringing with it a terrible stench.
The old monk’s face turned even grimmer, knowing that the greater the power of the Poison Blood Banner, the more innocents had been harmed in its creation. To achieve such power, it must have required the blood of at least three hundred people.
This evil person truly had no conscience!
As the monstrous face approached, the old monk did not release Lin Jingyu. Instead, he held his jade rosary in his left hand and drew a circle in the air, forming the Buddha’s lion seal. His fingers curled and uncurled, emitting a faint golden light, creating a golden Dharma wheel in front of him. The wheel shone brilliantly, holding the monster in a standoff.
“Such a petty trick,” he began, but before he could finish, his body jolted. He felt a bite on his wrist, where he was holding Lin Jingyu. A numbing sensation spread through his body, and his vision went dark. The Dharma wheel in front of him began to waver.
At that moment, the monstrous face underwent another change. In the center of its four eyes, “click, click,” a fifth, blood-red eye opened. The stench intensified, and with a wail, the monster shattered the golden Dharma wheel and struck the old monk in the chest.
The old monk was thrown backward, and Lin Jingyu fell to the ground. Several cracking sounds suggested that all his ribs had been broken. Moments later, his emaciated body crashed into the temple wall, collapsing it with a loud crash.
“Ha ha ha ha…” The man in the black cloud laughed maniacally, thoroughly pleased.
The old monk staggered to his feet, his throat filling with a sweet taste. He couldn’t help but spit out a mouthful of blood, staining his robe. His vision swam, and the numbing sensation crept closer to his heart.
He forced himself to calm down, his eyes glancing at Lin Jingyu, who was still unconscious on the ground. From Lin Jingyu’s clothes, a colorful centipede crawled out, the size of a hand. The most peculiar thing was that its tail was split into seven forks, each a different color, vivid and beautiful, yet terrifying.
“Seven-tailed Centipede!” The old monk’s words sounded like a groan.
His face darkened, and blood seeped from his mouth. He seemed to be unable to hold on, but he refused to fall.
He looked up at the black cloud and said, “You placed this extremely poisonous creature on the child and then hid your strength, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. You came here for me, didn’t you?”
The man in the black cloud sneered, “Exactly. I came specifically for you, Pu Zhi. If not for this, your cultivation from Tiantai Temple would have been difficult to deal with. Now, hand over the Bloodthirsty Pearl, and I’ll give you the antidote for the Seven-tailed Centipede and spare your life!”
Pu Zhi gave a bitter laugh, “I bear the name ‘wisdom,’ yet I failed to foresee your cultivation of the Poison Blood Banner. How could you not desire the Bloodthirsty Pearl?” His face grew serious, and he declared, “I will never give you this most vicious object.”
The man in the black cloud raged, “Then go to your Buddha!”
A flash of red light, and the Poison Blood Banner flapped in the wind. The wailing of ghosts grew louder, and the monstrous face reappeared, circling in the air before lunging at Pu Zhi again.
Pu Zhi shouted, and his robes billowed without wind. His thin frame seemed to swell. With a snap, he broke the jade rosary in his left hand. The beads, instead of falling, spun in midair, each glowing green, floating in front of him. Only one deep purple bead fell.
Pu Zhi flipped his palm, grabbing the deep purple bead, and formed the water bottle seal with both hands. His eyes widened, and a faint golden light surrounded him. He chanted, “Om, Mani Padme Hum!”
“The Six-Syllable Great Brightness Mantra!” The man in the black cloud’s voice grew more cautious.
As Pu Zhi finished the chant, the jade beads glowed brightly.
At the same time, the monster summoned by the evil man charged forward, the stench overwhelming, but upon touching the green light, it dissipated, unable to advance. The two forces were locked in a standoff in the air.
Despite this, Pu Zhi’s body swayed. The Seven-tailed Centipede was one of the world’s most lethal poisons, and even with his centuries of cultivation, he could hardly resist it. Yet, a faint smile crossed his darkened face, a hint of determination in it.
“Roar!” Pu Zhi shouted, like a lion’s roar, shaking the earth. The jade beads, empowered by his Buddhist energy, glowed even brighter. Suddenly, one of the beads shattered, forming the character “Buddha” in midair, and shot forward, striking the monster’s face.
“Aaaahh!” The monster screamed, retreating several steps, its red glow dimming, clearly injured.
The man in the black cloud snarled, “You bald fool!”
He was about to act, but in the blink of an eye, several more jade beads transformed into Buddhist mantras and struck the monster. The monster howled, retreating in fear, and when the ninth bead hit, it let out a final wail, its five eyes bursting, bones cracking, and fell to the ground, struggling briefly before turning into a pool of stinking blood.
Simultaneously, Pu Zhi spat out another mouthful of blood, this time black.
“Aaah!” A scream echoed from the temple entrance.
Both Pu Zhi and the man in the black cloud were startled. The black cloud stirred, and Pu Zhi looked toward the door. There, Zhang Xiaofan, the child from earlier, stood, staring in shock at the bizarre scene inside the temple.
The man in the black cloud snickered, and the Seven-tailed Centipede on Lin Jingyu suddenly flew up, moving like lightning toward Zhang Xiaofan.
Pu Zhi raised his brow, pointing his right hand. A jade bead shot forward. The centipede, sensing the danger, fluttered its tail like wings and dove back into the black cloud, disappearing.
The man in the black cloud said coldly, “Indeed, you are one of the Four Divine Monks of Tiantai Temple. Even gravely injured, you can break my Poison Blood King. But you have been struck by the King and poisoned by the Seven-tailed Centipede. How long can you last? Hand over the Bloodthirsty Pearl, and I will give you the antidote and spare your life!”
Black blood now seeped from Pu Zhi’s eyes. He gave a bitter laugh, his voice hoarse, “Even if I die today, I will rid the world of you, this demon.”
As he spoke, all the jade beads in front of him lit up. The man in the black cloud immediately became alert. Suddenly, a whistle sounded, and a jade bead, glowing green, shot out from behind and struck the black cloud. The man, caught off guard, let out a roar. The green light flashed, and the black cloud dispersed, vanishing into nothingness.
A tall, slender figure, clad in black, slowly descended from the sky. His face and age were hidden, but his eyes gleamed with malice. On his back, a long sword was strapped.
Pu Zhi said quietly, “With such power, why do you hide your face?”
The black-clad man’s eyes glinted, and he growled, “Bald monk, I will make sure you have no place to rest, even in death!”
With a swift motion, he drew the sword from his back. The blade was clear as autumn water, gleaming with a soft light.
“A fine sword!” Pu Zhi couldn’t help but exclaim.
The black-clad man snorted, grasped the sword, and stepped in a pattern, thrusting the sword upward. He chanted, “Nine heavens, turn into divine thunder. The majestic power of heaven, guided by the sword!”
In an instant, the dark clouds in the sky churned, and the sound of thunder rumbled. Lightning flickered at the edges of the clouds, and a fierce wind swept across the land.
“The Divine Sword Thunder True Decree!” Pu Zhi’s face turned ashen, a mixture of astonishment, despair, and a strange fervor rising within him.
He gasped, “You are from the Azure Ethereal Conclave!”
—
**Note:** The text provided is a detailed and vivid description of a fantastical battle between a powerful monk and an evil force. The translation aims to maintain the intense and mystical atmosphere of the original, while ensuring clarity and flow in English.
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