"Amitabha. Master, you have cultivated the Heart-Barrier Bewitchment Art to its peak. My Buddhist heart… it has indeed been shaken."
Mu Jialing stood tall and straight as a pine. As he spoke, a golden halo of intricate Buddhist light flared to life behind him, burning against the night like a radiant sun.
For a heartbeat, his gaze faltered, then steadied once more, calm as a deep, bottomless lake.
"A heart born for the Buddha, a child of the Buddha's way… Who would have thought that tens of thousands of years later, Guan Fan Temple would receive another seed of such pure Buddhist heart."
The voice, distant and lingering, carried both sorrow and compassion. The eyes behind the Divine Tree glowed with pity and grief as they continued, "Though I employed the Heart-Barrier Bewitchment Art, the omen of your Red Luan Star cannot be false. Our meeting was destined by chance. Tell me, have you divined that you would return to the Buddha's path here, of all places?"
Mu Jialing's brows drew faintly together. His gaze shifted, his jade-like features calm and cold. "Amitabha. This humble monk already walks within the Buddha's gates. There is no need to re-enter."
The voice sighed, drawn out and mournful. "So be it. Those who do not believe in me are fated to share no bond with me. You will miss this opportunity."
As the words faded, the eyes behind the Divine Tree reflected the vast Buddha light. In the ocean of darkness, the outline of a human face slowly emerged, solemn and majestic, until the true visage of a Buddha appeared before all.
From the shadowed void, a giant palm of black mist, as large as a courtyard, rose slowly. Mu Jialing's fingers paused upon his prayer beads, then he lifted his eyes, gazing calmly at the radiant Buddha manifestation.
"This humble monk has but one more doubt. May the master grant me clarity before we fight once more?"
"What doubt?" The sacred Buddha visage opened its pale eyes. Its pupils had all but vanished, gray-white and devoid of compassion.
That massive palm hovered above Mu Jialing's head, its darkness casting mottled shadows over his face. The golden sun behind him dimmed beneath the pressure, yet his expression remained tranquil. His lips parted.
"Since you claim to suppress evil with your own body, why then have you fallen into the demonic? Is it to raise demons with your body… or to raise your body with demons?"
The Buddha's eyes shifted faintly. That pale, lifeless gaze met his calm stare, and within it, the entity saw his unshakable resolve to die.
"Pitiful ant."
"To suppress evil with the body, and to nourish the body with evil—both are one. Seed of Buddha-heart, you cannot imagine how high the heavens above the heavens truly are, nor how heavy the shackles here truly weigh. To soar higher than Heaven itself, one must stand above all living beings.
I was once as ignorant as you. I sought to climb to Heaven above Heaven. I believed myself already at the peak, beyond what the world could hold. But who knew… who knew…"
For the briefest instant, the Buddha's voice quivered with confusion, resentment, hesitation. Mu Jialing stared into those pale eyes, and in their emptiness caught a fleeting trace of helplessness, of being lost.
"What did you not know?" Mu Jialing forced his voice to remain even, though a thread of tension edged his tone.
The Buddha exhaled a long, weary sigh, as if finally seeing the truth.
"I did not know that the Heavenly Dao would seek to destroy my body, extinguish my Buddha-nature, and scatter me into the cycle of reincarnation…"
"Why? The Heavenly Dao does not claim lives without reason." Mu Jialing concealed his shock, though his voice pressed with doubt.
The pale pupils dimmed further, dispersing into lifeless white. The Buddha's gaze no longer saw him.
The giant palm churned, black mist rolling like storm clouds, stirring the night, whipping dust and grass into frenzy. All around, the crowd panicked, fleeing in terror.
"This is your next question. But I will only give you time for one."
Mu Jialing's pupils shrank sharply. The palm above his head was nothing but endless blackness now, too close for him to even see its edges. His breath faltered…
…
Blinding white light erupted.
Sixty-four small swords spun in a perfect circle, forming an array. At its center stood Pei Xianqiao, raising her hand to scatter drops of Phoenix Divine Blood. The blood splashed across sword hilts, each blade blazing with shifting rainbow runes.
A cry rang out, sharp and sonorous, the screech of a phoenix. From the heavens, a divine phoenix dove, descending into the array. Its massive crimson wings, each spanning more than two zhang, unfurled behind the woman in goose-yellow robes.
The courtyard could not contain such a mighty form. Everything else seemed pitifully small in comparison.
Pei Xianqiao gazed at the rising poison mist. Evil spirits that had crawled to the phoenix's feet now cowered in fear. She raised her hand, summoning a tide of fire. Flames surged through the courtyard, spreading into a blazing inferno that lit all of Yan Fortress.
The fire raged, intertwining with the blood and countless wounds upon her body, so that one could no longer tell where her blood ended and the flames began.
The phoenix's cry rang sharper, piercing. Beneath the earth, a faint red glow flickered. Yang the Elder's hand shook in terror as he formed his seal, then quickly resumed with wide-eyed panic.
"This phoenix… it cannot be real! That little girl actually possesses Phoenix Divine Blood, and commands an ancient array! She is no ordinary person! Yan Fortress Master and I, both deceived by her delicate face!"
His mind flashed with the image of Yao Ranran's exquisite features. He clicked his tongue in greedy admiration. "Such a flawless vessel… perhaps even her master has never truly seen it. To waste it, without peeling it away to keep as a memento, would be to squander Heaven's greatest craftsmanship!"
He lifted his wrinkled eyelids toward the searing flames above, and laughed coldly. "Burn the courtyard to ash if you wish. You will never find where this old man hides. My master has already moved. In but a few moments—no, in just a few breaths—he will slaughter you all!"
"Should I act now?"
Yao Ranran's eyes narrowed. She had not expected this hidden master to be so fearsome. Her heart stirred. She prepared to leap forth and strike him down.
Elder Yang threw his head back in wild laughter. "Even with divine fortune and unimaginable luck, you cannot find me in mere breaths of time!"
Not necessarily.
Yao Ranran slid half her body from the tunnel, Nine Lotus Ring in hand. A white glow flared, ready to strike…
But Elder Yang's mocking voice continued, "This underground realm is no mere hollowed earth. It lies within the Divine Tree Jianmu itself, where my master's heart is nourished. For anyone else, there are only two ways to find this place. Either kill my master… or… hah! Can you truly unravel the secrets of the Divine Tree Jianmu?"
His laughter broke into sneering chuckles—until suddenly, he felt a glimmer of light behind him. He turned his head slightly…
Yao Ranran's clear eyes blinked, and she gave him a bright, almost friendly smile. "Your master's heart is hidden inside the Divine Tree Jianmu?"
"…?"
What in Heaven's name was this woman?
Elder Yang's soul nearly fled his body. Abandoning his rotten shell, he burst forth as a cloud of blood mist, fleeing in terror.
That husk of a body he left behind, shriveled and dried, still bore upright strands of hair standing on end. His soul shivered with cold dread. He recalled the words he had just uttered, and felt as though cast into hell itself.
What kind of existence was this woman?
No human, surely no human!
It was impossible for a mere mortal to uncover the secrets of the Divine Tree Jianmu, to find its entrance, and in so short a time burn the entire fortress while also…
And yet, the fires still raged through the Yan Fortress. Within them, his Buddha statue could still faintly sense the aura of a single woman…