The Western Regions: The Great Desert.
Above the boundless desert, the scorching sun branded the tracks of footsteps—a series of hurried footprints.
“No—”
The echo of pain, when it resounded across the desert, quickly dissipated with the wind.
The source of the sound was still the solitary figure hurrying across the desert, an ordinary man dressed in a star-patterned robe.
His appearance had no remarkable features, but he held a distinctive bronze mirror in his hand.
The bronze mirror displayed a scene from the Tomb of Returning Consciousness in the Southern Domain.
“This is bad.”
He wasn’t sure what he had heard or thought.
The man in the star-patterned robe put away the bronze mirror, stopped watching, and stepped forward with renewed determination.
His speed was extraordinary.
Though he cast no spiritual techniques, the desert seemed to shrink beneath his feet, and faint starlight subtly descended from the heavens.
The man quickly traversed the desert.
The Western Regions did not consist solely of vast deserts; deserts were merely predominant, covering ninety-nine percent of the land.
Upon passing through the desert, or finding an oasis within it, one would find themselves as the man in the star-patterned robe did now.
He suddenly took a large stride, and the scenery before him shifted, transitioning from desert into a barren zone.
Here, sand and gravel still predominated, but one could also discern sparse, infertile land, with occasional grayish-green sprouts.
A few more steps, beyond the barren zone, brought him to the Strange Stone Zone.
Here, strange rock formations jutted out, and the terrain began to steepen. Not far off, there appeared to be greenery, suggesting that further ascent would lead to “mountains.”
Mountains represent trees, and trees represent vitality.
In the Western Regions, most visible mountains were barren, devoid of life.
As the man in the star-patterned robe gazed into the distance, at the most rugged point of the faraway terrain, there was a patch of green.
“The Buddhist Sect…”
He did not pause.
A few more steps took him from the Strange Stone Zone into the depths of an ancient mountain forest.
Streams, forest birds, the scent of flowers… Compared to the Great Desert of the Western Regions, this place was like heaven to hell.
As he turned off a secluded, rarely-trodden path in the forest, the scene transformed into a brighter vista, revealing a small, dilapidated temple ahead.
In front of the temple, a young novice monk, appearing no more than seven or eight years old, stood propped on a wooden staff, his head nodding in drowsiness.
“Huh?”
He suddenly awoke, rubbed his eyes, and looked towards the person approaching the temple.
“Ah!”
The young novice monk let out a cry.
He abruptly pushed away his staff, scampered two steps, but didn’t actually run off.
Just as his head twisted into the temple entrance, his feet followed, but his head twisted back out again:
“Amitābha, benefactor, please wait a moment.”
As his feet returned, he yanked his head back into the temple, stumbling and dragging his feet fully inside, shouting as he ran:
“Abbot! Abbot Youxi!”
“Someone’s really here! We really waited for someone! Come out and see, come out quickly!”
The man in the star-patterned robe had a smile in his eyes, as the scene before him was vibrant with life.
There seemed to be quite a few people inside the old temple; faint sounds of commotion could be heard, but no one appeared.
“Caw—”
Suddenly, at a certain moment, crows and other birds scattered from the forest, and leaves rustled wildly.
The mountain path trembled slightly, and with a thud, something heavy seemed to land at the temple entrance. Looking up, it was a portly old monk.
The old monk, however, did not look unkind. He wore a red kasaya, a long jade necklace around his neck, and his earlobes hung down to his jawline. His face was kind and benevolent.
“Amitābha.”
After positioning himself at the temple entrance, blocking the path, the old monk pressed his palms together, a look of penitence on his face, and spoke first:
“A friend has come from afar, and should rightly be offered tea and refreshments.”
“Alas, deep in this ancient forest, we have no grain or rice, and the temple’s wooden chairs are either old or withered. We ask for the esteemed guest’s forgiveness; we cannot invite you inside. You may discuss your matters in front of the temple.”
“Alternatively, there is a pavilion in front of the forest, where simple tea is available. Please feel free to use it.”
After pointing vaguely in a direction, he again pressed his palms together, lowered his gaze and head, and murmured to himself, “A sin, a sin.”
The man in the star-patterned robe smiled at this. “I am truly a bit thirsty. Monks don’t lie, so Venerable Abbot, is there really no tea or water at all in this temple?”
Hearing this, the old monk could only sigh deeply.
“Crash, crash, crash—”
Just then, sounds of shattering jars and cracking bowls emanated from inside the temple, accompanied by the rustling of grains spilling onto the ground and a chorus of hushed sighs.
The old monk solemnly closed his eyes, then said, “There is none left.”
“That makes me seem rather inhospitable…”
The man in the star-patterned robe said this while pulling out his bronze mirror, glancing at it, but showing no intention of leaving. “Senior, aren’t you going to ask my name or what my purpose is?”
“One who comes from afar is a guest; karmic ties are fleeting dust. Worldly troubles, do not stain the ordinary heart.” The old monk shook his head slightly, indicating he wasn't very interested in knowing.
The man in the star-patterned robe clearly had no intention of letting their karmic ties end. He clasped his hands respectfully and said, “My name is Nangong Youshu. May I ask for your venerable title, Abbot?”
The old monk covered his ears, indicating he hadn't heard the name.
“Abbot Youxi, are you truly unwilling to hear what this Nangong person's purpose for this journey is? It might be quite interesting, you know?”
“Having entered the Buddhist Gate, worldly ties are severed. Passing guests are all like smoke and clouds.”
“Abbot, your temple wall is quite low. I feel I could easily hop over it with a rabbit’s kick.”
“Benefactor Nangong, what is the purpose of your visit?”
The man in the star-patterned robe, who called himself Nangong Youshu, then squinted his eyes and smiled.
He quickly adopted a pious expression, clasped his hands and bowed, speaking very amiably:
“I am Nangong Youshu.”
He emphasized his name again, then continued:
“I have come from the Sinful Land of the Southern Domain, intending to impart the Great Heavenly Mystery Way in the Western Regions. However, I found the journey filled with deathly intent and devoid of vitality, which left me rather despondent.”
“Upon passing through this ancient temple amidst the mountain forest, I found it teeming with life, which naturally made me feel it was extraordinary, and thus I made a special visit.”
He paused, then the polite Heavenly Mystery Diviner smiled and pointed to the temple door behind the abbot:
“Just now, I saw the novice monk in front of the temple; his complexion was rosy, and his wisdom root was naturally formed.”
“And now, Venerable Abbot has appeared; your speech is extraordinary, and your foundations are profound.”
“I surmise that this place, blessed by nature, can explain Buddhist teachings and interpret the Dao’s foundation.”
“Therefore, I have a wild thought: might I take your hand, Abbot, and enter this ancient temple for a discussion? We two could sleep foot to foot, discussing the Great Dao freely. Would that not be delightful?”
Abbot Youxi pressed his palms together, and after an “Amitābha,” he calmly said, “That is a wild thought, so let it remain a wild thought.”
“Huh?” Nangong Youshu froze in place.
As he stood still, the low wall separating him from the temple interior meant the young novice monks’ whispers became more audible:
“Hiss! He wants to sleep with Abbot Youxi?”
“How does ‘foot to foot’ sleeping work? Is it feet against feet? The bed isn’t that big!”
“No, no, I prefer stomach to stomach. Abbot Youxi’s belly is so soft; it’s really comfortable to snuggle against when sleeping, hehe.”
“…Shut up, all of you shut up!”
Only then did silence fall.
Outside the wall, Nangong Youshu laughed after a long moment, then clasped his hands and praised loudly, “Venerable Abbot is truly extraordinary. Your words, if not returning to simplicity, have certainly returned to truth. Indeed, you are…”
“He seems a bit hypocritical.”
The faint voice of a novice monk drifting over the low wall made Nangong Youshu’s words halt, and his expression turned a shade more ashen.
Abbot Youxi, who seemingly never scolded the novice monks, ignored the commotion inside the low wall. He merely glanced at the sky and said:
“It’s getting late, Benefactor Nangong. Speak plainly.”
Nangong Youshu no longer prevaricated. He spoke gravely, “To be frank, I truly have an important matter to discuss, entrusted to me by an old acquaintance from the Buddhist Sect.”
Abbot Youxi’s eyebrow twitched, yet his eyes remained calm. “Benefactor, please speak.”
“Abbot, do you recognize this sword?”
As Nangong Youshu spoke, he slowly drew a sword from his chest.
It was a great sword, its blade imbued with dazzling Buddhist light, radiating golden vows.
Abbot Youxi took a deep breath and closed his eyes:
“The Buddhist Sword: Wrathful Immortal.”
“Exactly!” Nangong Youshu nodded vigorously. “Abbot, can you discern the profound mystery of this sword?”
“It’s a fake.”
“Exactly!”
With a large gesture, Nangong Youshu snapped his fingers, and the Buddhist Sword, Wrathful Immortal, instantly shattered into pieces, then dissolved into points of light and vanished.
He spoke with a mournful expression:
“An old friend gifted me this sword, yet I showed you but its shadow.”
“Abbot, you must bear with me; this sword cannot be unsheathed casually, nor can it be shown to just anyone.”
“Even though you said earlier, ‘Having entered the Buddhist Gate, worldly ties are severed,’ there’s no guarantee that seeing this sword again wouldn't stir some worldly thoughts within you.”
“Or if not you, there are many others in this temple who would be affected.”
Nangong Youshu looked troubled, then quickly produced a golden seal that shone with light:
“But the mark of this sword, the seal of its vows—this can serve as proof of my identity.”
“Abbot Youxi, you need only cast your eyes upon it to know that I, Nangong, have no ulterior motive for this journey, or at least, my purpose is harmless to the Buddhist Sect.”
He tossed the golden seal.
Abbot Youxi reached out and took it.
The seal was shaped like a Buddha’s hand in a “palms pressed together” gesture, appearing unremarkable from the outside.
However, a spiritual scan revealed that the left palm of this Buddha’s hand seal bore the character “Buddha,” and the right palm bore the character “Resentment.”
“An object of resentment…”
Abbot Youxi’s face showed a sigh of regret, looking even more troubled at that moment.
Nangong Youshu’s face brightened, and he said with a cheerful smile, “It’s excellent that Abbot recognizes this item. Thirty years ago, Youyuan once spoke to me.”
He paused, his voice turning sorrowful. Pressing his palms together, he spoke devoutly:
“If the Buddha sits on the Heavenly Ladder, and the world is overturned, one should carry this seal westward and ask Abbot Youxi, just as I ask now…”
“If the great era is thus, my Buddha shall not enter. If my Buddha does not enter, he shall remain secluded.”
“If the great era is thus, my Buddha shall choose to enter. If my Buddha chooses to enter, he will be hard to return for a thousand years.”
“Senior Brother, what is your choice?”
At this point, Nangong Youshu raised his head and looked at the sky.
The sky was not late; it was mid-morning, and Abbot Youxi’s earlier words had merely been an attempt to dismiss him.
Yet, it was not until dusk, as the sun set in the west, that the seemingly petrified Abbot Youxi, his massive body trembling slightly, spoke with a resolute and shaky voice:
“To enter the world.”
“Enter the world?”
Nangong Youshu questioned him seriously.
To enter the world—just as the Buddhist Sect did before, flourishing for a time, then retreating in decline, with the Great Brahma Dragon’s Roar sounding, and then ending?
And this time, if Youxi enters the world, will there still be those like the Resentment Buddha to bring about an end?
“If there is no good end?”
“Then there will be no good end.”
Abbot Youxi had pondered for a full afternoon, as if he had considered everything.
However, Nangong Youshu, standing opposite him, had clearly pondered for more than just an afternoon:
“Though you know brotherly affection, can you consider the sect’s fellowship?”
“Abbot, have you considered that while your actions might help Youyuan, if the entire Buddhist Sect is sacrificed in the end, how could Youyuan bear it in his heart?”
Abbot Youxi fell silent, his face turning ashen, as if he had long anticipated this.
Nangong Youshu pressed on, continuing, “Leaving everything else aside, if you go to the Central Domain to assist, and Youyuan awakens only to find himself controlled by the Demon Ancestor, what then?”
Abbot Youxi’s body trembled violently. He opened his mouth, but no sound escaped him.
“Why did Youyuan enter the Crossroads? Why was the Upside-Down Buddha Pagoda erected? Why is his return, which you’ve awaited for thirty years, still uncertain…”
“Abbot Youxi, you have all the answers to these questions.”
Nangong Youshu spoke earnestly. Finally, he drew the Buddha’s Hand Command Seal from Abbot Youxi’s hand, and his words became extremely sharp, filled with a sense of cutting menace:
“That day, he urged me to bring these words, and at the end, he added a postscript.”
“Should my Senior Brother Youxi choose to ‘enter the world,’ wielding this sword, ascending to the Buddhist Sect, there will be no Buddha in this world.”
Clang—
The sword sang.
Nangong Youshu once again drew the gleaming golden sword from his chest. This time, however, the sword had become extremely menacing, like a wrathful Vajra.
“Wrathful Immortal…”
Abbot Youxi, however, seemed to have hardened his resolve, saying, “When the Malevolent Yin enters the world, the people will suffer greatly.”
Nangong Youshu, holding the sword, laughed heartily. “Even the Sacred Palace remains oblivious. Why must only the disciples of your Buddhist Sect, with their Bodhisattva hearts, go to such lengths?”
“I do not let others judge my heart, nor do I see defilement in this world.”
“Even if I stand here, sword in hand, blocking your path?”
Nangong Youshu held the Buddhist Sword, Wrathful Immortal, inverted. As he looked, he saw Abbot Youxi slowly shaking his head, saying with a sigh:
“Benefactor Nangong, you cannot stop me.”
No sooner had he spoken than his kasaya swayed and his white beard lifted.
Abbot Youxi’s face became stern. With a light utterance, he expelled a dazzling golden Saint Emperor Sarira, and the power of his vows surged like lightning in his eyes, radiating vibrantly.
The entire mountain forest trembled violently.
Inside the ancient temple, the young novice monks recoiled in fright.
“The Pot-Bellied Abbot is angry.”
“So scary! The last time the Pot-Bellied… oh, never mind, run, let’s run!”
Saint Emperor Youxi made his display of power.
Though Nangong Youshu trembled slightly, he stood firm with his sword, his expression resolute as iron:
“Abbot Youxi, today you either strike me down and go, so you may deliver all sentient beings; or you bypass me and cross into the Central Domain, while I slaughter every Buddhist Sect disciple on this mountain.”
“You choose!”
As soon as he spoke, the surrounding trees rustled.
Under the dimming sky, countless scarlet gazes seemed to open within the mountain forest.
“What’s that?”
A young novice monk, peeking from the entrance of the ancient temple, widened his eyes. Had he just seen countless devils awakening in the darkness?
“So scary!”
“Bubei, Bule, come quickly and look! What are these things? Are they people?”
Two more young novice monks peered over the doorway.
The scarlet eyes in the forest seemed to emerge entirely from within. They belonged to figures, each clad in a star-patterned robe, numbering roughly no less than a thousand.
Some were elderly, some frail, some women or children, some ordinary…
Yet without exception, their expressions were extremely stiff, like marionettes. But when their eyes lit up, they became remarkably human-like.
“These are…”
Young Monk Bule, clutching the door frame, swallowed with difficulty.
He had ventured outside before and was well-traveled, which only heightened his panic. He felt that Abbot Youxi might not be able to contend with so many monsters:
“Heavenly Mystery Puppets?”
“No! Heavenly Mystery Divine Emissaries? So many Heavenly Mystery Divine Emissaries!”
[11 minutes ago] Chapter 402: You are that Lu Yang who even dares to hit the judges?
[28 minutes ago] Chapter 400: Speedrun Classic Plot
[38 minutes ago] Chapter 399: Wild State Intelligence
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