They had reached the summit.

Amidst the rolling sea of clouds, the white pagoda stood tall and proud. Without forest trees and flowers, it had less tranquil solitude but more grandeur and vastness.

Looking down, cliffs stretched in all directions. A solitary pagoda rose, just as the morning sun burst forth with brilliant colors, making one’s heart tremble.

Ming Jing stopped at the entrance of the white pagoda. Zanxing’s gaze paused as she asked: “What is this?”

In front of the white pagoda’s entrance stood a stone sculpture.

This statue looked like a goat, but with only one horn, and its body was more than twice the size of an ordinary goat. It stood before the white pagoda, looking down at everyone from its elevated position, with its head slightly lowered as if it wanted to touch visitors with its horn.

The goat’s eyes were inlaid with Heishis. For some unknown reason, the moment Zanxing saw this goat statue, she felt uncomfortable all over. Though it was a statue, clearly in animal form, she always felt that the goat’s eyes revealed some humanity, as if coldly and carefully scrutinizing her.

The statue sat right at the pagoda’s entrance, completely blocking the entire doorway. Nie Xinghong from Yinfeng Sect paused his fan-waving motion and looked at Ming Jing in confusion: “Master, with this statue at the entrance, how do we get in? Should we smash this statue? Or move it aside?”

Ming Jing said, “Xiezhi, a one-horned goat that knows guilt by nature.” He looked toward the white pagoda and spoke softly: “This is the pagoda’s condition.”

“Only those without guilt may enter the pagoda.”

Zanxing gripped the Wuyou Stick tightly in her hand.

Xiezhi—a goat with only one horn, a legendary divine beast. It was said that divine officials once used this goat to judge cases. Simply by touching criminals with the xiezhi’s horn, they could determine whether the criminal was guilty or innocent.

And now, before the Wulun Pagoda, stood such a statue of a xiezhi, silently watching everyone.

Ming Jing said, “Over the centuries, many cultivators have come here wanting to enter this pagoda, but many were excluded by the xiezhi before they could enter. The xiezhi will devour those who are guilty. Only those without guilt can pass through this door.” He said to everyone, “This is why I said that even if you reach this place, you may not necessarily be able to enter this pagoda.”

“What kind of joke is this?” Someone from the Demon Suppression Army retorted: “Monk, you say guilty people can’t enter the Buddhist pagoda, and you say this xiezhi will devour guilty people. But that demon has killed many living people—the sins he’s accumulated could send him to the eighteenth level of hell. Why could he enter? Could it be that someone with blood-stained hands is completely innocent?”

This was also what puzzled Zanxing. She looked toward Ming Jing, waiting for his answer.

Ming Jing shook his head: “I also don’t know how he entered. But the xiezhi does not lie.”

“Of course, the xiezhi doesn’t lie—the one lying is you, monk!” That person sneered coldly and swaggered out from the Demon Suppression Army. He was originally a disciple of the Chihua Gate. He walked to the statue’s side, grasped the single horn on the xiezhi’s head with one hand, and circulated his yuanli, seemingly wanting to throw the xiezhi statue aside.

“Gao Quan!” A disciple called his name.

Gao Quan didn’t respond, but suddenly made a sound of surprise, his face showing a strange expression.

Although his cultivation wasn’t outstanding, he possessed tremendous strength and could normally uproot thousand-catty stone pillars with his bare hands. The statue before him looked like it weighed at most a hundred catties, yet he couldn’t move it at all, as if the statue were one with the earth. No matter how much force he used, he couldn’t budge it even slightly. Finding this strange, he simply gripped the horn on the statue’s head with both hands. He heard a shocked cry beside his ear: “Gao Quan, be careful!”

He looked up and met a pair of bright eyes.

The statue’s eyes had opened.

Gao Quan’s heart stirred, and he instinctively wanted to let go, but found that his body suddenly couldn’t move. The goat’s black eyes slightly narrowed, pressed against his forehead, coldly scrutinizing him.

Under the gaze of those eyes, it seemed all the secrets in his heart had nowhere to hide. A bone-chilling coldness immediately arose along Gao Quan’s spine as he tried to say: “Save… save me! Quickly save me!”

This is what he wanted to shout, but unfortunately, when he opened his mouth, he found he couldn’t make any sound.

Nearby, someone from the Demon Suppression Army asked: “What’s he doing? Why is he hugging that statue in a daze?”

In everyone’s eyes, Gao Quan was simply holding the statue’s horn with both hands, seeming to exert force trying to lift the statue, but there had been no reaction for a long time.

“Can’t he lift it? If he can’t lift it, forget it. Fellow Cultivator Gao, we won’t mock you—why are you being so stubborn?” A disciple from Yinfeng Sect said, “Hurry up and move aside. If not, we’ll just smash this statue.”

Zanxing found it strange that the person wasn’t moving at all. Looking down, she saw Mimi staring at the xiezhi statue with her body slightly arched and fur standing on end, making her feel even more uneasy.

“Something’s wrong.” Gu Baiying watched and suddenly frowned, his silver spear striking fiercely toward the xiezhi statue.

“Clang!”

The silver spear flew back into his hand, while the person hugging the statue fell from the stone sculpture and collapsed face-up on the ground.

“Gao Quan!” Someone from the Demon Suppression Army screamed.

Gao Quan lay on the ground, his entire face still retaining an expression of terror, his eyes wide open. At his throat was a bowl-sized hole that was continuously bleeding, staining half his clothing bright red.

“What happened?” Everyone was horrified beyond words. Someone else pointed at the stone sculpture: “Look!”

The xiezhi stood quietly in place, as if it had been like this from beginning to end, yet on its slightly lowered horn, blood was dripping down drop by drop.

“What… what exactly happened?” Among the Demon Suppression Army, a disciple’s voice trembled as he couldn’t help but retreat several steps.

Not only was the Demon Suppression Army afraid—even the demon clan members, who were accustomed to seeing demons and monsters, felt slightly chilled in their hearts and rarely refrained from mocking remarks.

In just one breath, Gao Quan had died. Everyone hadn’t even seen clearly how exactly he had lost his life. From beginning to end, he had only touched the xiezhi statue and died so inexplicably.

And that stone sculpture hadn’t even moved.

But had it not moved?

If it truly hadn’t moved, where did the fresh blood on the stone goat’s horn come from?

No matter how reckless Gao Quan was, he couldn’t possibly have used the goat’s horn to stab himself to death. Unless something had happened when he was moving the stone sculpture—something the surrounding people hadn’t seen, or rather, simply couldn’t see.

The xiezhi still stood quietly at the white pagoda’s entrance. Blood from the goat’s horn dripped onto the ground drop by drop, accumulating in a small pool of bright red. Those black eyes remained indifferently cold. As everyone looked on, an inexplicable chill arose in their hearts.

“He was a guilty person, so he was punished by the xiezhi.” A sighing voice came from the gray-robed monk, whose gaze fell on the dead cultivator. A flash of compassion passed through his eyes, but his words were calm and cold: “Do any of you still want to enter the pagoda?”