Three days later.
Fengxiao Temple.
An old monk in worn robes sat on a meditation cushion, head slightly bowed as if in deep meditation.
The meditation room was dimly lit by a single oil lamp.
A noble-looking man in plain white clothes pushed open the door and walked up to the monk.
Many years ago, they had been close friends despite their age difference. The man often came to listen to the monk’s Buddhist teachings, though he never achieved enlightenment and instead chose to take up arms, walking a path very different from what the old monk had advised. The man in white was naturally the renowned King of Langya, Xiao Ruofeng, while the seemingly humble old monk, though now merely the abbot of a modest temple, was universally acknowledged as the world’s foremost Buddhist master—Master Wangyou.
“Master,” Xiao Ruofeng called softly.
Wangyou kept his head down, not responding.
“Master,” Xiao Ruofeng called again.
This time he received a peculiar response—Wangyou let out a snore.
“Master, stop sleeping, Master!” Xiao Ruofeng helplessly patted Wangyou’s shoulder.
Wangyou suddenly opened his eyes and smiled at Xiao Ruofeng: “Ruofeng, it’s been a while. I just had a dream.”
“Oh? What did you dream about?” Xiao Ruofeng asked with an ambiguous smile.
“I dreamed of more than ten years ago when you were all drinking at the Hundred Flavors Pavilion, and Master Li got everyone drunk. Then the South Decree Sword Immortal Yu Shengmo came with his sword from the west, and Master Li broke through the pavilion’s roof with his head, engaging in an earth-shattering duel between sword immortals,” Wangyou replied slowly.
“Master, we’ve known each other for many years. Why pretend to be profound in front of me? You dreamed of the Hundred Vegetarian Feast at Tianxiang House, eating from dawn till dusk,” Xiao Ruofeng smiled helplessly.
“Ruofeng, how did you know?” Wangyou was startled.
“You were drooling,” Xiao Ruofeng sat cross-legged in front of Wangyou.
“Such sin, such sin,” Wangyou wiped his mouth.
Xiao Ruofeng poured two cups of hot tea, pushing one in front of Wangyou: “How is that child lately?”
“Like his father, he’s a martial arts prodigy,” Wangyou replied.
“You’ve said this many times. If Junior Brother personally teaches him, he should become like his father—if not the world’s finest, then very close to it,” Xiao Ruofeng sighed softly.
“Being the world’s finest isn’t necessarily a good thing,” Wangyou smiled slightly.
“Last year when I saw you, Master, there was worry in your brow about him following his father’s path. But today, your mood seems much better,” Xiao Ruofeng took a sip of tea.
“Every effect has its cause, and if the cause planted in Wuxin’s heart isn’t hatred from the beginning, it won’t bear evil fruit. When I came here last year, I didn’t understand this principle,” Wangyou replied.
Xiao Ruofeng’s brow remained furrowed: “But what if someone deliberately plants such causes?”
“Wuxin was only five when he left his father, but it’s this old monk who will accompany him through the coming years,” Wangyou smiled slightly.
“Master has changed,” Xiao Ruofeng suddenly smiled, the worry disappearing from his brow.
Wangyou smiled: “Oh? How so?”
“Before, Master perhaps saw Wuxin merely as a disciple, but now it seems Master regards him as his own child,” Xiao Ruofeng nodded. “If that’s the case, I can rest easy.”
Wangyou sighed: “I had already distanced myself from worldly matters, yet you insisted on pulling me back in.”
“Even Buddha didn’t achieve enlightenment simply by sitting under the Bodhi tree from the start. One must experience the mortal world, undergo its sufferings of love and hatred, to truly achieve enlightenment. Giving Master an ancient temple and meditation room, away from the world chanting sutras for a hundred years, wouldn’t advance Master’s path one bit,” Xiao Ruofeng said gravely.
Wangyou snorted: “Are you the master, or am I?”
Xiao Ruofeng bowed slightly: “Master, Ruofeng was impudent.”
“You child,” Wangyou shook his head helplessly. He was about to say something when suddenly an object burst through the window. He quickly clasped his hands together and shouted angrily, “Rise!”
A phantom bronze bell appeared, enveloping both Wangyou and Xiao Ruofeng. The object struck the phantom with a “dong” and was deflected away.
Wangyou frowned: “Amitabha, how did anyone find this place?”
Xiao Ruofeng sighed softly: “Master Su, I thought our last meeting would be our final one.”
“I thought so too,” Su Zhe walked in holding a Buddhist staff.
“What changed Master Su’s mind?” Xiao Ruofeng asked solemnly.
“It’s this destiny that must be washed away!” Su Zhe let out a long sigh.
“The Demon-Subduing Staff?” Wangyou looked at the staff in Su Zhe’s hands, his tone surprised.
“Master has good eyes. Indeed, it is the Demon-Subduing Staff!” Su Zhe said with precise pronunciation.
Wangyou looked at Su Zhe: “You’re his disciple.”
Su Zhe nodded: “Yes. When he gave me this Demon-Subduing Staff, he mentioned his connection with Master. It’s my fortune to meet Master today—truly both surprising and joyful.”
Wangyou lowered his head slightly: “Dark River’s way of expressing joy remains as unique as ever.”
Xiao Ruofeng’s ears twitched slightly, hearing movements in the courtyard. He sighed softly: “You knew I wouldn’t bring guards here, so you thought this would be the best opportunity to kill me?”
“This old monk has the Hundred Bell technique that has stopped many supreme masters,” Wangyou stood up. “This old monk is the King of Langya’s guard for this visit.”
Su Zhe shook his head: “We never thought we could kill you. The price of killing you is too high—Dark River cannot afford it.”
Xiao Ruofeng frowned: “Then why make assassination attempts again and again?”
“As I said, this is destiny that must be washed away!” Su Zhe suddenly swung his staff, sending dozens of golden rings flying.
“Amitabha,” Wangyou clasped his hands together, and a phantom bronze bell several times larger than before appeared, keeping all the golden rings at bay.
Xiao Ruofeng raised his hand, drawing the Haoque sword. He bent slightly: “If bloodshed occurs in Fengxiao Temple, it would be my sin.”
Su Zhe smiled: “Then why not have a magnificent battle without causing death? “
Xiao Ruofeng asked quietly: “What do you mean?”
Su Zhe gently turned his staff: “These years as a prince must have been stifling. Don’t you long for another duel like in your youth? Not for life and death, not for profit, but purely for the thrill of battle!”
Xiao Ruofeng raised his head: “You speak of Gu Jianmen and Lei Mengsha. Even in my youth, I didn’t enjoy such things.”
“Consider it my misunderstanding then,” Su Zhe charged forward, raising his staff and bringing it down heavily on the phantom bell. “Come, Schoolmaster Xiao Ruofeng! Let’s have an exhilarating battle!”