Nan Yan rose silently, but as Ji Yang’s breathing steadied, he called out to her, “A’Yan.”
“I’m not leaving,” Nan Yan replied. “You heal while I find a way to hold him off.”
Unbeknownst to Ji Yang, the newly surging demonic energy gradually settled as she affirmed her decision to stay. Collecting himself, he explained, “Huai Shuang is a Third Decay cultivator. His technique allows him to absorb others’ spiritual energy for his use. Though it seems unorthodox, it’s sanctioned by Dao Sheng Tian and isn’t considered evil. Without mastering the Sin-Removal Chapter of the Seven Buddha’s Karma Scripture, you can’t harm him.”
Nan Yan’s brow furrowed. This was the world controlled by Dao Sheng Tian, where right and wrong were determined solely by their decree—prosper by compliance, perish by defiance.
“How long do you need?” she asked.
“Xing Zheng is still outside. I need time to activate the Canopy Barrier and transport the uninvolved out of Hui Gu.”
“What about Huai Shuang?”
“Don’t worry about him. Someone will handle it.”
Nan Yan paused, a mix of unease, joy, and sorrow flitting across her face. She glanced around anxiously before asking, “Here? Right here?”
After the wound from the Destruction Iron Arrow in Ji Yang’s palm had barely healed, he retrieved a bodhi leaf from the Huangquan River. It was identical to the one Nan Yan had obtained upstream.
Instinctively, Nan Yan placed her hand over her heart, trying to sense something. “Is he still alive?” she asked.
“The Fifth Decay of Celestials can transcend mortal reincarnation. If Lady Nan Fang could survive for years with her injuries despite her lack of heart, surely the Buddha Repentance Lord can as well.”
As Ji Yang finished speaking, frost invaded Hui Gu from above. Master Huai Shuang’s grotesque face broke through countless Yin Curses, wielding an ice spear as he charged toward Nan Yan.
Nan Yan immediately summoned the Buddha’s Word Shackles to defend herself, but they shattered instantly under a single sweep of his ice spear.
The difference in spiritual power was too great.
Master Huai Shuang sneered, “I don’t believe your fate is greater than your mother’s! Go join your Nan family ancestors!”
In the blink of an eye, just as Master Huai Shuang was barely ten zhang away, countless Buddha’s Word Shackles suddenly flew out from the sea of Manjusaka flowers on both banks of the Huangquan River.
At first, Nan Yan thought her spell had worked, but in the next moment, she saw Master Huai Shuang’s face contort with shock. He dodged repeatedly, frantically waving his ice spear, but within moments, he was lifted high by an invisible hand gripping his throat.
Nan Yan: “This…”
Ji Yang: “Honestly, I’m not rushing to recover because I fear Huai Shuang, but because I fear the Buddha Repentance Lord.”
A sense of foreboding crept into Nan Yan’s heart. “What do you mean?”
While drawing bizarre symbols, Ji Yang reminisced with a hint of regret, “Years ago, I left Hui Gu at his request to protect you. But I couldn’t help myself and betrayed that trust… If I were in his position, I’d surely kill the one who broke such a promise.”
Nan Yan: “…I’ve never seen you this nervous. The elders say my temperament resembles my father’s. Though you say he’s lost his Buddha nature and struggles to maintain composure, as a high-ranking Buddhist monk, surely he wouldn’t resort to violence immediately.”
Ji Yang: “Do you understand what it means to be heartless?”
Nan Yan: “Does it make one foolish?”
Ji Yang: “…”
Nan Yan: “This humble nun believes Master Ji Ming has quite a pleasant temper.”
As she spoke, the Dao Tian Master, held by an invisible force in the distance, was violently slammed into the ground. His physical body, unable to withstand the power of the Buddha’s Word Shackles, shattered. His fleeing soul essence didn’t get far before a blood-red lotus formed from Buddhist scriptures flew out of the mist, ensnaring it and casting it into the Huangquan River. Countless dead souls and Yin Curses immediately pounced, and the Dao Tian Master’s voice faded into agonized screams.
“…At least he’s better than my mother,” Nan Yan added.
…This was a Third Decay celestial, a ruler of multiple regions.
Ji Yang: “As the elders said, your temperament indeed doesn’t take after Lady Nan Fang.”
As the Buddha’s Word Shackles in the distance dissipated into scattered red light, the deafening ghostly wails above suddenly ceased. The entire world fell silent, save for the gentle flow of the Huangquan River.
Ji Yang waved his hand, parting the red mist upstream. Nan Yan then saw a solitary bodhi tree standing at the end of the gently swaying Manjusaka flower sea. As the wind blew, bodhi leaves drifted down into the Huangquan River.
Nan Yan looked uncertainly at Ji Yang, who gently squeezed her palm.
“Before I ruled the Huangquan River, he could never leave this place unless all souls crossed over,” Ji Yang said, walking to the other side. “Go on. If you need me, I’ll find you.”
Nan Yan stood still for a long while before slowly making her way through the flower sea toward the bodhi tree. As she drew near, she noticed that each leaf bore a Sanskrit phrase.
She finally felt a sense of returning to her roots, with the complete Seven Buddha’s Karma Water within reach, but her mind was elsewhere.
As her gaze left the treetop, she suddenly froze.
A figure sat beneath the tree, facing away from her.
She didn’t know when he had appeared, but he seemed like the only patch of white in the world. No one knew how much he had missed, nor how long he had waited.
The Buddha Repentance Lord, the Zen Master, or… father.
Nan Yan tried to speak several times but didn’t know how to address him. In the end, Ji Ming spoke first.
“She broke her promise, didn’t she?”
Nan Yan was at a loss for words. As she pressed her lips together and nodded heavily, a string of prayer beads slipped from Ji Ming’s sleeve and scattered on the ground.
“My mother’s old friends want to summon her soul and gather her spirit,” Nan Yan said softly. “If… if the Zen Master is willing, please come with me to Mao Zhou to help gather my mother’s soul for reincarnation.”
Bodhi’s leaves fluttered down, pale hair falling between his brows. A pair of clear eyes reflected the red expanse, the faint light in them fading along with the vibrant colors.
Ji Ming shook his head gently. As he stood, Nan Yan realized she wasn’t seeing a devout Buddhist, but merely a frantic passerby in the mortal world.
“But I don’t want her to ascend to paradise. I want her to stay in this turbid mortal realm with me,” he said. As he rose, the ever-green bodhi leaves gradually turned yellow and withered.
Nan Yan seemed to realize something and quickly stepped forward. “Why are you dispersing all your merits?”
Buddhists cultivate to achieve Buddhahood. At Ji Ming’s level, even if he couldn’t break through in this life, he would naturally attain true Buddhahood after his passing.
Attaining true Buddhahood was the ultimate aspiration of all Buddhists.
There was neither joy nor sorrow in Ji Ming’s eyes. Amidst the scattering of withered flowers and leaves, he made a vow in a low voice.
“Ancient Buddha above, you once decreed my fate—life like a dying lamp, long night of clarity. I have cultivated for nine hundred years, guiding people, demons, and all living beings. I wish to give up nine hundred years of merit in exchange for one person’s reincarnation in the mortal world, for me to regain the seven emotions, for me to experience life, death, love, and hate, for me to become… a demon on the spot.”