The Western Desert — an ancient land of Buddhist faith, boundless and immeasurable in its expanse. It held too many legends to count. Buddhist devotees covered the land, their faith deeply sincere. It was a place that drew near to the divine.

The Great Emperor Amitabha had been an ancient being of immense wisdom, who single-handedly transformed a barren wasteland into a land of joy and abundance.

According to legend, in that distant past, the western lands were blanketed in golden sand, sparsely populated, the vegetation thin and scattered. Then the Great Emperor Amitabha descended, trekking on foot to measure every inch of the land. Wherever he passed, Bodhi trees took root and lotus flowers bloomed, transforming the desolate expanse into a pure land.

Today, vast stretches of the Western Desert had become habitable — no longer as barren and impoverished as they had been hundreds of thousands of years ago.

Legend had it that when every last inch of the Western Desert possessed divine nature and radiated the light of the Buddha, Amitabha would reincarnate and return, becoming an immortal human sage manifested once more in the world.

The Western Desert — an entire great domain devoted to a single doctrine, creating a miracle unprecedented in all of antiquity.

Since the most ancient times, within this ancient sacred land, Arhats, Bodhisattvas, and ancient Buddhas had walked among ordinary mortals, dwelling with all living beings, manifesting divine miracles and relieving suffering. It was precisely this that allowed Buddhism to flourish ever more powerfully.

Ye Fan stood on a rocky hill, gazing out across the vast expanse of land. Many of the places where ancient temples stood were enveloped in pure spiritual force, radiating Buddhist light.

“If this continues, every inch of land will eventually carry divine nature and Buddhist radiance. The waters of the Western Desert run very deep — the more you think on it, the more it fills you with awe.” He murmured softly.

This was a great domain that outside races found nearly impossible to invade. Neither demon clans nor ancient clans could withstand the ocean-like impact of its spiritual force — the Buddhist light illuminating in all ten directions.

This was Ye Fan’s second visit to the Western Desert. All that he witnessed along the way made him nod. Across this great land, the central Mount Sumeru always seemed to exert a kind of gravitational pull upon his primordial spirit.

What kind of earth-shattering contingency plan did the Great Emperor Amitabha lay down upon this Mount Sumeru? The spiritual force is like an ocean, flowing endlessly toward it. At this rate, even without an immortal, an immortal peak could be conjured from nothing.

He closed his eyes and felt a strange perception take shape — Mount Sumeru seemed to stand planted in an eternal void, radiating an undying brilliance, hazy and indistinct.

Ye Fan wasted no time, traveling westward toward the Ashoka Plateau. He ascended this sacred land of great altitude, where it seemed as though one could reach out and touch the blue sky and white clouds.

Along the way, he encountered many pilgrims — devoutly prostrating themselves with every step as they made their way toward Ashoka Lake, paying sincere reverence.

An ancient temple sat at the end of the horizon, neighboring the Ashoka Sacred Lake — its architecture simple and unassuming, not grand in scale. This was the Agama Ancient Temple.

Yet Ye Fan came away empty-handed. He did not find An Miaoyi here. There was only an elderly monk expounding the sutras for pilgrims.

“Venerable Master, where has Miaoyi gone?” Ye Fan inquired.

“She departed eleven years ago.” The elderly monk replied.

An Miaoyi had severed her ties to the mortal world fourteen years ago. In pursuit of perfect attainment and the illumination of past lives, the present, and the future, she had cultivated here for several years before continuing westward, ultimately aiming to ascend Mount Sumeru.

Ye Fan stood in a daze, then turned and departed. Following the elderly monk’s guidance, he set out to walk from one sacred temple to the next.

Where had she gone?

Ye Fan passed through ancient temple after ancient temple, and at last traced her path. True to what the elder had indicated, she was indeed making her way toward Mount Sumeru. All these years she had been tempering her heart through cultivation in the mortal world — of a hundred-li journey, she had already passed more than halfway.

She had cultivated at many ancient temples. She had left the Yunfeng Temple only two months prior and, barring any unexpected events, would have entered the renowned Buddhist sacred temple — the Nalanda Temple.

In the Western Desert, the Great Thunder Sound Temple on Mount Sumeru was without question the most famous — the center of the entire western land, the very foundation of Buddhism, irreplaceable.

Beyond it, however, the Hanging Temple, the Nalanda Temple, and the Shenhia Temple were equally remarkable ancient sacred temples — likewise hallowed grounds of the Buddhist faith, each holding a pivotal place.

In certain special periods throughout history, when an ancient Buddha was in residence, they could stand alongside the Great Thunder Sound Temple itself as religious centers.

Buddhism possessed six sacred syllables, and the secrets of the universe’s birth at its origin — scattered across these ancient sacred temples, never yet united as one.

The Nalanda Temple was a renowned temple of the current age, with a lineage of great antiquity. It had originally been merely an ancient training ground for the Buddhist faith, gradually becoming a sacred temple over time.

According to legend, the Great Emperor Amitabha had once expounded the sutras here for forty-nine days. Sweet dew rose from the earth, divine lotus flowers grew in the void, and countless extraordinary phenomena appeared, shaking the world.

Ye Fan gazed from afar. The ancient temple was grand and imposing. In the glow of the setting sun, it was bathed in a golden radiance — sacred and solemn.

This is the Nalanda Temple — the sacred pure land where the Great Emperor Amitabha expounded the Dao. Truly extraordinary beyond compare!

Bodhi trees carpeted the ground. Orchid flowers drifted down through the empty air, their clean fragrance filling the nostrils. Incense smoke rose in abundance, and many Buddhist devotees were prostrating themselves. Each year, great multitudes of pilgrims came here.

An ancient road led toward the mountain gate. Along the path, devotees stood packed together, each making their way step by prostration.

Ye Fan opened his Heavenly Eye, and saw the entire ancient temple bathed in the most pure spiritual force — a brilliance ten thousand zhang high, piercing through the clouds, vast and immeasurable.

This was a great momentum!

It represented the union of heaven, earth, and human hearts. The entire ancient temple existed within a pure land, aligned with the Great Dao, all manner of auspicious energy surging forth.

Such a sacred land, created entirely through human hands — one could not help but marvel. Even Ye Fan could only feel awe.

In a place such as this, cultivating alongside the spiritual force of all living beings — for a Buddhist cultivator, it would naturally be achieving twice the result with half the effort. It was a supreme land of wonders.

Though it is a supreme Great Dao, it is not my Dao. Ye Fan murmured to himself.

Dong…

In the setting sun, from within the ancient sacred temple radiating its golden light, a great bell rang slowly and deeply.

The waves of the bell were vast, as though arriving from ten thousand ages past. Then the chanting of sutras rose, purifying the mind and spirit, filling one with ever-greater tranquility — as though the entire being had been elevated.

All the pilgrims who had come in reverence fell into a state of rapturous devotion, their foreheads glowing white, emitting streams of light that flowed into the ancient temple.

Some among them even found their old ailments and long-standing illnesses cured.

This was a mutually complementary relationship.

Ye Fan dimly sensed that the Nalanda Temple was truly extraordinary.

Above the ancient temple, an ocean of pure faith gathered and boiled, then transformed into a great cauldron, refining the newly arrived spiritual force — distilling it into an undying radiance of divine nature, which then blessed the sacred temple and expanded outward into the distance.

Ye Fan drew a sharp breath. He grew ever more convinced that the legends were not without foundation. When the undying divine radiance of sacred nature spread across every last inch of the Western Desert — would a truly earth-shattering transformation occur?!

He descended before the mountain gate and made inquiries, learning that An Miaoyi was indeed present. He sent word in, requesting an audience.

Yet what happened next was entirely unexpected. Before long, a monk came to inform him that An Miaoyi had asked him to leave and would not come out to meet him.

“What… why? Does she already know who I am?” Ye Fan was taken aback.

He did not force his way in. Instead, he waited here for several days, and after multiple failed attempts to gain an audience, his suspicion deepened. He fixed his gaze upon one of the monks and said, “What exactly is going on?”

“This… Lay Patron, please return.” The disciple guarding the mountain gate’s expression shifted.

“I must see her at least once — forgive my offense.” Ye Fan’s gaze flashed with resolve as he stepped forward inside.

“Lay Patron, this is a forbidden ground of the Buddhist faith — you may not force your way in.” Several monks blocked his path.

“An Miaoyi has committed a grave transgression and is currently being suppressed within the Nine-Story Buddhist Pagoda. You cannot see her.” A young monk, unable to hold back, blurted out.

“Ah — then that is all the more reason I cannot leave!” Ye Fan forced his way inside.

The monks showed no compassion whatsoever. They all darkened their expressions, refusing to let him pass.

Swish!

A flash of light — Ye Fan vanished from where he stood and dissolved into the temple grounds. In that instant, a great golden bell erupted, its prolonged tolling filling the air without cease.

“Who dares trespass upon our pure land?” A powerful figure appeared — a head monk, his unruly hair bound with a golden ring, letting out a great roar as he blocked the way.

Ye Fan was extraordinarily swift. Activating the Traveling Character Technique, he passed around the figure as though in a dream — as though there were no one present — clearing three courtyard enclosures in succession.

“Impudent demon! How dare you desecrate the holy grounds of our Buddhist faith — where do you think you’re going!”

Evidently this formidable head monk was a powerful figure. Though not of very great age, he had already attained an unusual level of strength.

Boom!

A chain shovel flew from his hands, its many golden rings glinting as they rang out, striking toward the back of Ye Fan’s heart, seeking to cut him off.

Yet Ye Fan’s speed was far too great. Though this dao-weapon was strong and carried a mysterious aura, it only struck empty air — not even grazing his afterimage.

Dong, dong, dong…

The great bell rang out, and the entire Nalanda Temple fell into a commotion. The alarm bell tolled without cease — an event not seen in thousands of years. Who would dare trespass upon a holy land of the Buddhist faith?

Blessed by endless faith, even a great accomplished king-ranked cultivator would be forced to halt here — or meet a bitter end.

“Amitabha — who has disturbed the tranquility of our pure land? Stop where you are!” A great shout rang out, carrying an authority so absolute it made one’s very soul tremble.

Ye Fan moved as though there were no one present. In that one instant he had already cleared thirteen courtyard enclosures. People could only see a flash of shadow — not even making out what the person looked like.

Everyone was stunned. How powerful must someone be to tread upon the forbidden formation inscriptions of a Buddhist holy land as though they were flat ground? Surely a Sage had arrived?

“This sacred and ancient land will not suffer your rampage — let the Buddhist radiance illuminate!” An elderly monk let out the roar of a lion’s awakening, shaking the entire ancient temple.

In that moment, an ocean of faith surged into motion, descending from the heavens — each strand radiant and dazzling, like a boundless waterfall cascading down.

This was a terrifyingly vast momentum of heaven and earth!

For Buddhist cultivators, this pure spiritual force was sacred. But for those who did not follow this doctrine, it was like a poison or a miasma.

For cultivators, this was true karmic fire in every sense — enough to make even a Sage furrow their brow, enough to make even divine beings retreat.

Now, faith descended from all directions. Clearly the people of the Nalanda Temple had grown desperate — someone had forced their way through thirteen layers of restricted grounds. Such divine power and technique belonged only to great ancient demons.

Ye Fan had encountered this manner of assault at the Vatican before. The faith had weighed upon him and begun to melt his flesh, causing him some suffering — but it had never been able to cut him down.

The Buddhist light was like water, submerging this place entirely. Ye Fan bore tremendous pressure and yet did not stop — he continued walking forward with great strides.

“Miaoyi, I have come to see you!” Ye Fan called out loudly. Though the faith radiated its brilliance everywhere, it was all parted before him — like a great river splitting to both sides, unable to impede his path.

“So you have come for her. She has committed a grave transgression and may not be seen by anyone. If she wishes to leave the pagoda, the only way is to strip away her entire cultivation.” An elderly monk appeared — extremely formidable.

“I ask the Venerable Master to show mercy and allow me to enter.” Ye Fan stood within the thirteenth courtyard enclosure and said this earnestly.

“No. You have already shown disrespect by forcing your way into our Nalanda Temple — leave at once. Otherwise, great punishment will descend upon you!” The elderly monk commanded.

Many powerful figures from the Buddhist faith flew in from all directions, surrounding this place and trapping him at the center.

“I have no wish to make enemies of you, but this time I can only offer my apologies!” Ye Fan’s eyes flashed with cold lightning. His palm and fingers traced through the air, and a black mountain range appeared — he drove it forward directly, opening a path through what lay ahead, sending everyone flying backward and retreating.

Light radiated from his entire body. Like a demon-god, he strode forward with great steps. Having learned that An Miaoyi was being suppressed here, he did not wish to delay even for a moment — he charged directly into the restricted grounds.

“Who dares to run rampant within our religious sanctum?!” A lion’s roar rang out, making even the sky tremble.

Boom!

Ye Fan struck directly — a palm sent forward. An elderly monk enveloped in Buddhist radiance, dry and gaunt, was blasted away as a beam of light.

“You…” Many monks were stunned.

“Half-Sage?” Ye Fan’s brow furrowed slightly. He did not linger. The Traveling Character Technique activated, leaving behind a trail of lingering light as he vanished in an instant, plunging directly into the heart of the sacred temple.

A nine-story ancient pagoda stood ahead, faith condensed around it — the Buddhist light illuminating in all ten directions.