A man sat on the bed, his breath weak.

This person was about to die. Before death, his children and relatives gathered around his bedside. The candle by the bed flickered slightly, with only a short bit of wick remaining, about to be extinguished.

His relatives wept by the bedside, reluctant to let go, but the man only looked toward the flame in the candle, slightly furrowing his brow.

Gu Baiying finally regained consciousness.

This should be his fourth lifetime.

In the previous three lives, he had become a baby, an invalid, and an elderly man. Each life had been quite difficult, and everything in each life had been quite real.

This reality was vast to the point of covering sunny and cloudy days and lunar cycles, down to the smallest details of food and expenses, the people around him, and the feelings in his heart—all identical to reality. Sometimes he became a woman, a man. At the beginning of each life, he wouldn’t notice anything wrong until life was about to end, when he would gradually discover the clues.

He remembered his name and understood why he had come here.

This was the Five-Wheel Pagoda, and he was in the Buddhist pagoda’s trial.

Ming Jing had once said that the yellow winter honeysuckle at the pagoda’s bottom symbolized the immortality of the soul and eternal rebirth in the Buddhist realm. He gradually understood—perhaps this was the pagoda’s test.

To experience the eight sufferings of the mortal world in reincarnation, to strengthen one’s dao heart through life and death, not to be confused by worldly concerns.

Was this it?

The man’s gaze became cold and condensed. If this were truly the case, why was the Buddhist pagoda’s trial continuing? Just like the mirage woman’s illusion in Wufan City, when the truth was glimpsed and the illusion pierced, the illusion should have shattered. He now understood everything, yet the reincarnation continued.

As if these worldly sufferings had only just begun.

The crying of relatives in the room grew louder and louder. He slightly furrowed his brow and moved his lips, wanting to speak. But as soon as he opened his mouth, he felt his lips were stiff, and he didn’t even have the strength to speak.

The flame flickered once, and the candlelight gradually weakened until it completely disappeared into the darkness.

The person on the bed had no more breath.

Everything quieted down.

…

At the pagoda’s bottom, the winter honeysuckle bloomed brilliantly, its slender petals stretching out. At a glance, it looked like a wheel that separated and drew together, spinning endlessly.

The trial within the Buddhist pagoda continued.

Graceful young women became decrepit old women, experiencing the suffering of fleeting youth. Brave and handsome young men suddenly became bedridden invalids, only able to endure daily suffering with broken bones. Babies cried incessantly, and elders gasped weakly. Lovers who had sworn eternal devotion scattered like clouds, and those with grand ambitions lived with unfulfilled aspirations. Endless karmic bonds, enemies gathering together… In this world of suffering, life and death cycle endlessly. Nothing can be taken away; only karma follows one’s body.

All beings suffer.

The silver lion guarded beside the blooming winter honeysuckle, occasionally glancing at the meditating cultivators around. The Buddhist pagoda appeared peaceful when viewed from the outside.

After an unknown amount of time, a faint sound suddenly came from within the pagoda.

“Creak—”

This sound was like an old door being pushed open by someone, or like a wooden wheel being slowly turned. The sound was particularly clear in the quiet Buddhist pagoda.

Mimi immediately stood up, looking toward the ceiling above with agitation and unease.

In the upper levels of the Buddhist pagoda, something had been opened.

…

The beings of the three realms reincarnate through the six paths like a spinning wheel of fire.

Time was stretched very long.

Zanxing became countless “Yang Zanxings.”

The Buddhist pagoda’s reincarnation was endlessly long, like a wheel with no beginning or end, life and death, unable to escape.

In one life, she became the daughter of a wealthy family, pampered and raised in luxury from childhood, then married a handsome man who was her childhood friend. She had a pair of lovely children and lived half her life smoothly without worry.

But in her thirtieth year, war broke out in the country. Her vast family wealth vanished overnight. In just one year, her parents died of illness, her husband died in battle, and her pair of children were separated from her during their wandering displacement, letting her taste the full suffering of separation from beloved ones.

In another life, she became a precious princess, born noble, able to get wind when she wanted wind and rain when she wanted rain. She fell in love with a promising young top scholar. However, the new top scholar already had someone in his heart. She used every means to make the scholar marry her. But after marriage, she encountered her husband’s cold treatment—a lifetime of seeking love but never obtaining it.

In yet another life, she became an ordinary farmer, working hard daily from dawn to dusk, but was coveted by neighboring residents for her wealth. The neighbors colluded with officials, scheming to seize her family’s property and farmland. She lost the lawsuit and died on her sickbed harboring resentment against the ways of the world.

Countless “Zanxings,” countless cycles of reincarnation. At first, she was always indignant, angry, shedding tears among the many bitter fruits. The world was shallow and vulgar—when sentient beings first experienced the mortal world, they had to endure the torment of worldly suffering. Having empathized, she couldn’t turn a deaf ear. Later, as reincarnations multiplied, she instead became calm.

Buddhism’s Four Noble Truths speak of suffering, origin, cessation, and path. In the life-and-death cycles of reincarnation, she gradually understood. If people wanted to survive in this world, they inevitably suffered such bitter fruits. She also vaguely figured out the Five-Wheel Pagoda’s intention—perhaps the trial within the Buddhist pagoda was meant for them all to experience life’s eight sufferings, thereby achieving enlightenment.

Zanxing didn’t know which level she had reincarnated to now, nor whether she had already passed the first several rounds of trials in the Buddhist pagoda. She didn’t know how Gu Baiying and the others were doing, nor where Gui Yansheng currently was. In the endless cycles, her mood was exceptionally calm, as if all the world’s troubles and clamor were gradually being let go through these lifetime experiences. She felt extreme tranquility and peace in her heart, and a trance; it seemed she was letting go of all things.

Within the Five-Wheel Pagoda, teeth-aching “creak creak” sounds gradually arose. At first, it was only as faint as light rain falling on the ground, then the rotating sounds gradually became clear. The winter honeysuckle at the pagoda’s bottom bloomed even more brilliantly, its bright yellow petals curling and unfurling like a Buddha’s steady breathing.

Mimi suddenly sensed something and stood up alertly, looking toward Zanxing beside her.

Zanxing stood in front of the winter honeysuckle flower. Although only a moment had passed, all the people at the pagoda’s bottom seemed to have fallen into sleep at the same time. Zanxing was the same—she had been standing silently in front of the winter honeysuckle with her eyes tightly closed, when suddenly, she opened her eyes.

Mimi joyfully bounded over, but Zanxing acted as if she couldn’t see it, only staring intently at the winter honeysuckle before her.

After a while, she reached out her hand and touched the winter honeysuckle’s petals.

The silver lion keenly sensed danger and gently bit Zanxing’s sleeve corner, trying to pull her outward. However, Zanxing’s movements were very determined.

On the sandy ground, the yellow winter honeysuckle cast a long shadow. From afar, it looked like a giant wheel slowly turning, wrapping the silhouette of the woman standing before it along with it.

“Creak—”

All the silver lion’s fur stood on end. It couldn’t help but arch its back and let out a low roar.

The winter honeysuckle in the sandy ground continued to sway, but Zanxing’s shadow was no longer there.

She had disappeared.