Who would have thought life in a monastery could be this extravagant?
The rice came from the Southern Region, fine Baishui Imperial Grain. The vegetables were freshly picked jade-green greens from behind the mountain, carried back by a little novice monk. Even the tableware was a specially refined first-grade magical artifact, made solely for her.
Although it was only vegetarian fare with no oil or meat, when cooked by the best chef of Guan Fan Temple, every dish was transformed. Green vegetables were carved into roses, radishes sculpted into phoenixes. And alongside it, steaming truffle and spirit-mushroom soup, overflowing with spiritual energy, completed the feast.
It was enough to make anyone forget about going home.
Other than the blinding shine of all the bald heads around her, there really wasn't much to complain about.
Yao Ranran finished eating until her belly was round and full. She patted it and suddenly thought of Tang Xiangyin, who had rolled down the slope of that desolate mountain…
The crowd of gossip-hungry onlookers had arrived too quickly that day. After Tang Xiangyin rolled down, she had no chance to go searching for her.
Later, when the Fózǐ brought her to Guan Fan Temple, she had originally planned to find an excuse to return to the wilderness the very next day. But… the treatment here was simply too good.
Counting the days, it had already been seven days since she pulled out the legendary Sword of Wrath, which no one had been able to move in one hundred thousand years.
She wondered if Xiang Yin was still waiting for her in that barren mountain?
Yao Ranran looked out toward the sunlight at the doorway. She knew she couldn't go on like this. She had to pull herself together. She had to go back and find Xiang Yin. After all, selling just a single piece of meat could earn her ten million spirit stones. That kind of wealth was something Guan Fan Temple could never give her.
With ten million spirit stones, what delicacy would ever be out of reach?
So she told herself, a person must look further ahead. You can't live short-sighted. After lying around for seven days, Yao Ranran finally moved.
She stood up.
The visiting novices were completely stunned. Their usual peaceful expressions vanished as if the sky were collapsing. They bolted out in panic.
"Fózǐ! Abbot! Masters! Something terrible has happened! Fairy Ranran, Fairy Ranran is trying to escape!"
Yao Ranran: "???"
All she did was stretch and stand up. Why were these monks acting like lunatics?
Forget it. First, she had to go find Xiang Yin.
Yao Ranran stepped out of the gilded, resplendent residence.
Shua, shua, shua!
The five great masters of Guan Fan Temple, the Abbot, and the Fózǐ all descended in radiant light. Tens of thousands of disciples followed to block the path ahead.
The warm glow shining off their polished bald heads made them look like countless blazing little suns.
Yao Ranran couldn't help but close her eyes.
"Hou Yi, where are you? There are so many suns here. Hurry and shoot them down!"
"Amitabha. Fairy, you cannot leave here with the Sword of Wrath," said Mu Jialing, stepping forward under the Abbot's signal.
In Yuan Kong Abbot's eyes, those of similar age would find it easier to communicate. He and the five masters simply watched quietly.
Yao Ranran forced her eyes open and parted her red lips. "I'm not planning to leave with the Sword of Wrath. I intend to return it to the barren mountain!"
All the monks froze.
Mu Jialing frowned in puzzlement. "Fairy wishes to take the Sword of Wrath back to the barren mountain?"
Yao Ranran twirled the sword in her hand. "That's right. I'm going to put it back in."
The monks exchanged looks.
Mu Jialing pressed his palms together, shaking his head. "Fairy, once the Sword of Wrath is pulled out, it cannot be put back in."
"But didn't you say no one has ever pulled it out before?"
"That is correct."
"Then how do you know it can't be put back in?"
Mu Jialing turned toward the Abbot. "…Master, how do we answer this one?"
Yuan Kong Abbot pressed his palms together. "Let her try."
If she failed, then it was impossible. But if she succeeded—wouldn't that be just perfect?
The Abbot opened the way for her.
Mu Jialing guided her with flight-light to the barren mountain's peak.
Since the sword had been removed, the land had changed.
Guan Fan Temple had stationed disciples all around, chanting scriptures, trying to suppress something sealed within.
Keeping some distance, Mu Jialing said, "Fairy, we've arrived."
"Mm." Yao Ranran's gaze fell on the hollowed space where the sword had once been.
She paced closer. Mu Jialing frowned. This kind of ridiculous idea—how could it possibly work?
The temple's records told the story.
Hundreds of thousands of years ago, this place had countless spiritual veins and was a sacred land for cultivation. Numerous sects fought to claim it until Master Mingzhi of Guan Fan Temple stepped in, ending the war and claiming the land.
But then an unknown evil emerged. Master Mingzhi made a desperate decision, dividing five great veins, sacrificing his three souls and seven spirits. He used his blood to draw lines, his bones to form the array, his body as the formation's eye. With five immortal artifacts, he created the Fivefold Sealing Formation and suppressed the evil.
Now that one artifact—the Sword of Wrath—had been removed, the records were clear. The seal could only be repaired by sacrificing the souls of Buddhist cultivators again, or by replacing it with an even stronger immortal artifact.
Sacrificing Buddhist souls wasn't that no one was willing. It was simply that the sword had never been removed, so that method couldn't be attempted.
As for stronger immortal artifacts, only the Yu Clan's Grand Emperor Bell surpassed the Sword of Wrath.
And since Yao Ranran was planning to return to acknowledge her Yu Clan bloodline, naturally the Yu Clan Patriarch would have to bear this responsibility for his daughter.
Except…
Mu Jialing's eyes darkened.
The Yu Clan Patriarch was an extremely obstinate man.
After several letters back and forth, he neither wanted to abandon this daughter, nor did he want to hand over the Grand Emperor Bell. He dragged the matter endlessly.
So they had no choice but to pamper Yao Ranran, while searching desperately for another solution.
And now, this woman claimed she would just… put the sword back in.
Mu Jialing had brought her here, but not a trace of hope shone in his eyes.
Impossible.
He didn't know how she had pulled the sword out, but he knew very well—putting it back was not something that could be done.
With compassion in his eyes, he watched.
Yao Ranran placed the rusted sword back into the hollow and slowly released her grip.
She withdrew her hand.
"Whew. Fózǐ, I put the Sword of Wrath back in!" Yao Ranran smiled brilliantly.
For the first time, Mu Jialing found the smile of a mortal unbearable.
She actually… put it back?
It really worked?!
The Prajna Secret Heart Sutra, The Complete History of Guan Fan Temple, The Repentance of Worship, The Lotus of Water Dharma, Buddhist Notes…
The thousands of texts he had studied over twenty years burst into his mind.
Not one of them, not a single scripture, explained how what he had just witnessed was possible.
Mu Jialing swayed on his feet, staring at the woman before him. His lips trembled. "You're not human?"
Yao Ranran, in an excellent mood, shot back without thinking, "You're the one who's not human. Your whole family isn't human!"
Mu Jialing's ears turned red. He stammered, "Fairy, what this little monk meant was… you… you resemble the fairy my grandmother once spoke of…"
Yao Ranran froze.
Well, why didn't you say that sooner? She almost couldn't hold back her forty-meter blade!
Her lips curved upward. This Fózǐ wasn't as boring as she thought.
"Fairy, Fairy!" Mu Jialing called anxiously. His long arm reached out as if to draw her into his embrace.
Yao Ranran's eyes widened. What was this? Moving too fast, wasn't it? Whatever happened to being the born Fózǐ?
"Fairy is in danger!" Mu Jialing shouted, but he still couldn't catch her.