“Holy Son…”
In the heavy shadows beside the withered tree, Qu Zhengfeng stood with his hands behind his back, watching as the figures of Jian Chou, Liao Kong, and Yang Jin disappeared in different directions on the Sacred Mountain. A contemplative meaning flowed in his eyes as he murmured these words, then looked toward the seated Master Xuelang.
“Does the Master know what kind of existence this so-called ‘Holy Son’ truly is?”
There were no particularly clean stones on the ground, not even dry rotting leaves. All the trees at the foot of the Sacred Mountain in the Snowy Realm had stopped growing leaves more than ten cycles of sixty years ago.
Above, the stars and moon were dim.
Everything in the Snowy Realm, under the reflection of that Sacred Sacrifice array overhead, had turned a oppressive crimson red.
Master Xuelang sat cross-legged on the ground, his snow-white monk robes stained with dust mixed with ice and snow particles. He paid no attention to this at all, as if no matter when, where, or what circumstances he found himself in, he would always treat everything with such tranquility.
In his slender palm, prayer beads turned gently.
After hearing Qu Zhengfeng’s words, a few traces of benevolent smile appeared on his face, and he actually asked: “Daoist Yang Jin has already mentioned that the Holy Son is a Buddha Child, a special being summoned from the Hundred-Life Reincarnation. Regarding New Tantra matters, Daoist Yang Jin understands much more than this poor monk. Since Benefactor Qu has doubts in his heart, why didn’t you ask earlier?”
“…”
Everyone said that each of the Three Masters of Chanzong were powerful beings who had reached the realm of perfect integration and understanding. Qu Zhengfeng originally didn’t quite believe this, especially didn’t believe that this Master Xuelang before him, who had once been troubled by the word “emotion,” could also possess great wisdom. But the moment he heard that counter-question, he knew he had been biased.
Whether he had great wisdom or not, he didn’t know, but his perception of details was truly terrifying.
At this moment, their gazes collided. Master Xuelang’s gaze was naturally peaceful and obscure, while Qu Zhengfeng’s eyes revealed some indescribable sharpness.
But after a while, he finally laughed.
“Worthy of being one of the Three Masters of Chanzong. I didn’t ask earlier precisely because Daoist Jian Chou was still present. This junior sister of mine has her own principles in judging people and matters. When I saw her mention this ‘Holy Son Jiye’ earlier, I knew she had already made her judgment and didn’t regard this Holy Son as an enemy. Not just anyone can be the senior sister of Yashan. I naturally wouldn’t question her judgment, but I have my own doubts in my heart. Of course, it’s more appropriate to inquire of the Master privately.”
Master Xuelang only smiled without speaking.
But Qu Zhengfeng didn’t continue that topic either, only continued asking about the Holy Son: “Please forgive my boldness, but the New Tantra sect is not orthodox teaching. That this group of malicious people could actually summon a so-called ‘Buddha Child’ from the Hundred-Life Reincarnation is truly incredible. Is this so-called Jiye truly a ‘Buddha Child’ and not some terrible monster?”
Speaking to this point, his voice paused as he glanced toward the array above, slightly narrowing his eyes: “Or to ask more rudely, is this Holy Son Jiye truly ‘human’?”
Is Holy Son Jiye truly human?
Master Xuelang pressed his palms together and, like Qu Zhengfeng, looked toward the heights. In his eyes that faintly hid melancholy and understanding, a few traces of compassion for saving the world appeared. He recited a Buddhist invocation and sighed gently: “When did this poor monk ever say that Holy Son Jiye was ‘human’?”