The Taoist and the Swordsman both opened their eyes.
They looked at each other, then burst into hearty laughter.
They laughed unrestrainedly, tears streaming down their faces.
Taiwu Xixi sniffled, walked over, and waved her hand in front of the Taoist's eyes.
The laughter abruptly ceased.
"Are you two idiots?"
Wang Ping'an excitedly jumped up, spread his arms, wanting to embrace his younger sister, but ultimately he did not.
It was born of emotion, but stopped by propriety.
When he realized his arms were already spread wide, and he looked like a cross, the atmosphere became a bit awkward.
To alleviate the awkwardness, the Taoist simply raised his hands, stretched, and even let out a very realistic yawn, "Xixi, why are you here?"
The Swordsman had already seen Simon, and hesitantly asked, "May I ask who you are?"
Fu Xixi ignored the Taoist and answered Bai Zimo's question, "This is the Buddhist Son, you both know him."
Upon hearing this, the two immediately knelt on the ground, chanting words of compassion.
Simon smiled, looking at his two old acquaintances, Mo Yun and Ben You.
They had both seen through their past lives, but they did not participate in the decisions of this life. As for the two Taoists, they would receive the legacy of their previous lives.
Next, he would take Taiwu Xixi to attack the Sword Tomb.
The Sword Tomb required the Fuyu Sword Hilt to open; otherwise, Simon could go alone.
All seven Sword Tombs were in Jingbei Jingzhao, not far from Wudang Mountain. Speaking of Wudang, Simon still remembered that joke—Wudang is invincible, duck.
This time, Simon only took Taiwu Xixi, not planning to bring the two Taoists, who were like baggage.
Although they now possessed strength comparable to a sect leader, in Simon's eyes, there was actually no difference; mortals ultimately had a limit—even a strong person like Li Dingxun.
When Simon teleported with his younger sister for the second time, she could no longer suppress her curiosity and began to murmur, asking him how he learned this Divine Foot Technique.
Everything about the Buddhist Son was repeatedly studied by people, including the divine miracles and techniques he displayed, which made countless people yearn for them.
Simon calmly said, "If you remember your past life, you can also do it."
The fourteen Venerables who were designated back then all comprehended some divine powers; Sun Lichai, for example, understood the Divine Foot Technique.
Now, among these fourteen people, only a few could see through the fog of reincarnation, and some, like Ben You, had given up their initiative. In short, the Sacred Pure Land had become extremely desolate.
Over a hundred years, countless people attempted to sense the Sambhogakāya; some went mad from cultivation deviation, some entered deep meditation and discovered psychic abilities, and others toiled in vain, with the result that none succeeded.
The reason, of course, was not that people were foolish; on the contrary, the number of strong individuals in the world was increasing daily, and there were many exceptionally talented people.
There was only one reason for failure: the direction was wrong.
At that time, the Bodhisattva's Sambhogakāya was in the deeper layers of superior affinity, the place of reincarnation, so visualizing the Pure Land divine image was useless.
Time flew by, years passed. In the blink of an eye, many years had gone by, and the Zhengyuan Knot reopened, and this time, it would bring about immense changes.
Simon looked at the deep valley before him, which was like spring. A hundred flowers bloomed in the valley, and deep within the flower thickets, a large tomb was faintly visible, revealing a corner of its carved beams and painted pillars, like a beauty shyly covering her face. At the entrance of the deep valley, three large characters were written on a stone tablet—Mo Nüyi.
A feeling of ultimate destiny approaching washed over him, and not just Simon; Taiwu Xixi also felt the same way.
Looking back at this life, a long road, traveled quickly, with myriad sceneries along the way, dust tides constantly rolling, the universe and human hearts all turning within an inch, life and death intermingled between dream and reality. So, at the end of the road ahead, there might be what one desires, or one might gain nothing. In short, the end of a journey was near.
The usual smile on his younger sister's face slowly receded, "Buddhist Son, I feel a little sad."
Simon looked at her, accepting Taiwu's destiny, enduring Taiwu's pain.
"Sadness, it will pass soon."
"Really?"
"I'm not lying to you."
You are becoming more and more like her.
As they walked towards the Sword Tomb, a beggar lying in the grass at the valley entrance suddenly called out to them.
"Two sirs, do not venture deeper into this place!"
Taiwu Xixi was truly startled by this suddenly appearing strange man and frowned, asking, "Why?"
This beggar was truly peculiar; he was the only person at the large valley entrance, seemingly a mortal, yet Taiwu Xixi had not detected his presence at all. Even though the other party stood right in front of her, ordinary and trembling, he still gave her a sense of unreality.
This person was indeed problematic.
The beggar looked at Simon, not recognizing him at all, then turned to Taiwu Xixi and said, "This humble one has personally witnessed countless heroes enter the Sword Tomb in that valley, yet none have returned alive. There is truly great danger, I advise you two sirs to leave as soon as possible to preserve your precious lives."
Taiwu Xixi grew suspicious and decided to ignore the man's wild talk, standing behind Simon and falling silent.
Simon nodded to the beggar, "There will be a time for us to meet; you need not rush."
The beggar looked bewildered, completely failing to understand his words, so he lazily lay back in the grass, muttering to himself, chanting a rebirth mantra.
Simon continued into the valley. Taiwu Xixi took one last look back before entering the valley; the beggar was still lying there obediently, seemingly asleep.
The Sword Tomb, which had been faintly visible from outside the valley, disappeared at the end of the blooming flowers once they entered the valley, nowhere to be seen no matter where they looked.
The terrain in the valley was undulating and winding. Although there were dirt paths and animal trails, they often branched, and it was uncertain if they led to the Sword Tomb.
Taiwu Xixi pointed to a spot in the northwest and said, "Look over there, many birds are circling and chirping. There seems to be something strange; let's go check it out."
Simon nodded and followed the small path towards the wailing birds. Rounding a hillside, he saw a man standing in a thicket of bushes.
The man's eyes were bloodshot, he was panting heavily, and he held a barbarian dagger. Upon seeing Simon and Taiwu Xixi, he immediately charged at them.
Taiwu Xixi asserted that this person was possessed by Xiangxu and, as he ran, called out, "Who are you?"
The man let out a fervent roar, "I am Qu Shan! Heretics, die!"
He raised the weapon in his hand and performed the Fulong Altar's eighth-grade martial art, Nine Palace Drunken Blade. What was originally a martial art seeking a subtle, drunken intent was wielded by him with a whooshing sound, appearing deranged and frantic, utterly without form.
Taiwu Xixi stepped forward to meet the enemy and easily subdued him. Then, she took out the Fuyu Sword Hilt from her bosom, held the sword in her left hand, pointed it at the cosmos, and chanted a mantra: "All forms are infatuated and suffering, no one escapes the net. Seeing me is not me, without me there is no demon!"
After speaking, Taiwu lightly tapped Qu Shan's forehead with the sword hilt, instantly dispelling the demonic obstruction. The man stopped struggling, his eyes clear, and he shouted, "Thank you, Taiwu, for saving my life!"
His younger sister released the man, who then knelt on the ground, repeatedly kowtowing.
"Get up, you don't need to kowtow."
The man did not listen and continued to kowtow, but his body was constantly growing thinner. After eighteen kowtows, he became still, like a stone sculpture.
Taiwu Xixi gently touched his shoulder and back, only to see the man turn to dust and dissipate with the wind, leaving only a porcelain bottle. Everything else vanished without a trace.
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 40 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
Here's the link:
[patreon.com/Greyhounds]
Thank you so much for your support!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"