Chapter 1504: Sumeru Curtain Call

The God Emperor stood tall and majestic, enveloped by wisps of primeval chaos energy, appearing transcendent and mysterious, like a living, supreme venerable surveying all beings.

He stood atop Mount Sumeru. The aura of death had significantly diminished, and though the ancient imperial power was unleashed, two awakened Emperor Weapons bore and blocked it, protecting the Great Seal Leiyin Temple.

Silence fell upon the world. From within the nine-colored immortal robe came a soft sigh, imbued with boundless sorrow. It summoned the Nine-Layered Coffin, and with profound grief, interred the God Emperor once more.

The Silkworm Emperor's body slowly fell, enveloped by chaos, sinking into the coffin. The stone sarcophagus pieces closed one by one, sealing him within.

How many heroes are buried beneath the passage of time? Even immense divine powers cannot reverse this fate. A lifetime of glory ultimately leaves only sorrow.

The God Emperor was unparalleled, astonishing throughout history, yet he could not withstand the relentless march of time. His era, a moment of splendor, was destined to end, followed by endless darkness and ultimate closure.

Boom! The Nine-Layered Coffin closed completely, sealing tightly. It resembled an ordinary stone—ancient, unadorned, and simple, as if it had returned to its original state. Thrown into a loess mound, it might not even be noticed.

This was the life of a Great Emperor—ultimately, dust returns to dust, and ashes to ashes.

"Father!" cried the Divine Silkworm Daoist, hot tears streaming down his face. He clenched his fists and rushed forward.

The Divine Silkworm clan's battle attire shot forth an immortal light, transforming into a brilliant celestial river that stretched directly beyond the mountain, like a bridge to the heavens, making the path accessible.

It was guiding the members of the Divine Silkworm lineage. The Ancient Emperor's son, the Divine Silkworm Princess, and others all stepped onto it, ascending Mount Sumeru.

Ye Fan, with the vibrant green-glowing bronze cauldron hovering above his head and a three-foot immortal sword in hand, also followed. For the first time in his life, he arrived at the peak of Mount Sumeru.

The Divine Silkworm Daoist's tears flowed freely as he stroked the stone coffin, his voice hoarse, making it impossible for others to understand what he was saying.

With a rumble, the stone coffin expanded. Nine colors shot into the sky, and then a tenth color burst forth. It instantly grew to hundreds, then thousands of feet long, and continued to expand.

Streaks of radiant light shot out, entering the Divine Silkworm Daoist's glabella. Faintly, chants seemed to resonate, accompanied by insights gained from the shattering of a Great Dao.

The Divine Silkworm Daoist retreated, looking distraught, murmuring to himself, "I've missed it, it's time to go..."

Another burst of immortal light erupted, astonishing everyone, as it flew towards the Divine Silkworm Princess's shoulder, aiming at the gleaming golden monkey.

The tiny monkey, barely taller than a palm, immediately bared its teeth, looking terrified. It nervously clutched a lock of the Divine Silkworm Princess's hair and recoiled.

Everyone was stunned. What was the origin of this little divine silkworm, which had undergone several transformations and now resembled the Battle Saint Ape? To be noticed by the God Emperor and bestowed with immortal light was astonishing.

Even the Divine Silkworm Princess was greatly surprised. She turned to look at the little divine ape on her shoulder, which blinked its large eyes and wore an innocent expression. She seemed thoughtful, as if recalling something.

A soul-shaking sound erupted. In the instant before anyone could react, the gigantic stone coffin shot into the air, tracing a brilliant immortal light, tearing through the firmament, and soaring into the depths of the universe.

It chose to embark on a solitary journey, drifting endlessly through the cosmos. This was the destiny of an Ancient Emperor, ultimately left to contemplate this loneliness alone.

The Nine-Layered Coffin disappeared, and Mount Sumeru became quiet. Both the Demon-Subduing Pestle and the nine-colored divine robe gradually dimmed, slowly returning to silence.

"In a dream, I saw the Immortal Realm open..." the Divine Silkworm Daoist gazed at the starry sky.

People wondered if he had dreamed of the path to immortality, or if he wished for his father to slumber this way, finding the immortal path after death.

"Master!" A loud shout rang out, startling the group on Mount Sumeru back to their senses.

Both the Divine Silkworm lineage and the various Bodhisattvas and Ancient Buddhas turned to look. It was a young monk, appearing very much like a Buddhist figure, with kind eyes and a benevolent face, large earlobes reaching his shoulders, and ordination scars on his bald head.

Undoubtedly, this was Huahua. Years had passed, and he had long since grown into an adult, appearing simple and honest—a straightforward young man with a distinct Buddhist aura.

However, the moment he opened his mouth, his simple appearance was instantly undermined, making him seem somewhat out of place.

"Master, you're back! Your precious disciple missed you terribly."

Despite his large earlobes and simple Buddhist appearance, his words created a strong sense of dissonance, his demeanor vastly different from his looks.

"You... weren't you converted?!" The two golden-bodied Arhats who had escorted him were greatly astonished, somewhat dumbfounded.

"Oh, Master, you've ruined my grand plan for dominance! If you had come a few decades later, all the female Bodhisattvas on this mountain would have been led away by me, leaving the remaining monks to cry."

The group was speechless. This shift was too sudden! Just moments ago, everyone was fighting for their lives, but with this young fellow's appearance, the atmosphere had completely changed.

Ye Fan was also momentarily speechless. This young man's appearance was almost identical to that of the ancient Buddha from back then. If he stood silently to the side, he would possess the demeanor of a revered Buddhist monk.

But as soon as he spoke, it was all ruined. Especially when he smiled, he looked utterly mischievous.

"What are you talking about?!" Ye Fan slapped him on the back of the head.

"Little bald-head, weren't you converted?" Little Que'er and others also ascended Mount Sumeru via the golden light path. At this point, no one from the Buddhist sect tried to stop them.

Seeing Ye Fan also look his way, Huahua immediately adopted a solemn, proper expression and said, "Amitabha Tathagata, Huahua the Great Buddha. My Master sits in my heart, and though wine and meat pass through my gut, how could I be converted by them?"

As a result, he immediately received another slap on the back of his head.

Everyone had gone to great lengths to rescue him, only to find that the boy hadn't suffered even a scratch. Their worry had been in vain, and now he wore a cunning grin.

The Arhats and Bodhisattvas also couldn't sit still. They had personally witnessed Huahua's conversion, so how was he unharmed in the blink of an eye?

Under Ye Fan's stern gaze, Huahua dared not act impudently and recounted the truth in full detail.

A flash of light appeared on his forehead, and a simple, unadorned Buddha's skullcap fell out. It had some cracks and holes but exuded a profound Buddhist dao aura.

Everyone from the Western Land was startled. This was undoubtedly a divine artifact, not left by a Saint, and it contained a restrained Emperor's aura.

Ye Fan naturally understood what was happening. This was a piece of Shakyamuni's skull, left in the mortal world when he was refining his eighteen-foot golden body.

In fact, it was this very Buddhist bone that had imparted a vast collection of scriptures to Huahua years ago.

The Quasi-Emperor's skullcap was hidden within his Immortal Platform, integrated with it, making it undetectable to outsiders. Naturally, it couldn't be converted, and thus he could easily fool them.

Ye Fan had even prepared the Sutra of Salvation, expecting a great deal of effort, but never imagined such an outcome. He immediately slapped Huahua on the back of the head again; looking at his mischievous smile, Ye Fan couldn't help but feel he was a troublemaker.

The Buddhist monks all wore grim faces, hoping they would quickly descend the mountain. With such an ending today, there was truly nothing more to say.

But Huahua wasn't having it. Having been suppressed for no reason, he harbored a deep resentment.

"Amitabha, this old monk harbored worldly desires and deep attachments. I apologize," Mahakashyapa said, expressionlessly.

With a smile, Huahua directly grabbed the old monk's hand and wouldn't let go, stating that there must be practical compensation for being suppressed for so many years for no reason.

"You have successfully reincarnated and reappeared in the world. This is a miracle of our Buddhist sect, validating the Dao Fruit of Emperor Amitabha. Do you truly no longer recognize this humble monk? Have you forgotten the scene of our discussions by Lake Ayodhya five thousand years ago?!" Mahakashyapa exclaimed.

"Monk, you're being too overbearing!" Nearby, Dongfang Ye and the others protested.

Only Ye Fan understood what was happening. He had initially thought that the Ancient Buddha was low-key and not widely known, but he never expected him to be an old acquaintance of Mahakashyapa. The Buddhist sect's detention of Huahua this time involved too many karmic ties.

In the eyes of Mahakashyapa and others, Huahua was a miracle of Buddhism, proving the notion that Amitabha Buddha primarily cultivated for the afterlife—a living example.

"What nonsense are you talking about? Don't ramble on. All I know is you suppressed me for many years. Buddhism talks about karma, so you owe me a hundred years of life. How about this: I want to establish a great sect within Buddhism, allowing the Heavenly Court to branch out. You can be my guardian."

A bald young man was endlessly bickering with an old monk, a scene that was both amusing and exasperating.

The various Buddhist sages kept their gaze focused downwards, on their noses, then their mouths, then their hearts, remaining silent. They truly did not want to get entangled with this impudent monk.

Just then, a tall figure burst out of a nearby temple. His large bald head was shiny, and he exclaimed, "Oh God, oh angels! I've finally seen a familiar face! Ye Fan, Brother Ye, do you still remember me? Please take me down the mountain too!"

Not only did the Buddhist Bodhisattvas, Guardian Heavenly Kings, and Ancient Buddhas frown, even outsiders were a bit stunned. How could there be such a strange monk in the pure land of Buddhism?

Ye Fan was startled. This was none other than Cade, Li Xiaoman's American classmate. After all these years, he had acquired profound Buddhist divine powers.

"As a Vajra Guardian, what have you become?!" Mahakashyapa rebuked.

Cade ignored him, clinging to Ye Fan as if he were a lifeline, begging, "Please take me away from this godforsaken place! Eating only vegetables every day, even God would go mad."

"Weren't you punished with wall-gazing? How did you get out?" a Bodhisattva asked.

Cade complained to Ye Fan, "I haven't eaten meat in one hundred and fifty years! Recently, I finally managed to stew some dog meat, but I was caught after just one bite and sentenced to five hundred years of wall-gazing. Oh heavens, oh God, after five hundred years, my teeth will have fallen out, and I won't even be able to chew dog meat!"

Everyone was dumbfounded, a bit flabbergasted.

Outside Mount Sumeru, the various Saints from beyond the domain were all staring blankly at each other. Everyone wanted to laugh, but the group of Bodhisattvas, Ancient Buddhas, and Guardian Heavenly Kings had ashen faces, each looking more displeased than the last.

Ye Fan didn't know what to say. He patted Cade on the shoulder, unsure if it was meant as comfort or simply a greeting after reuniting with an old acquaintance.

He secretly thought to himself, 'This one is also a troublemaker.'

After a slight pause, he addressed the monks of the Western Desert, requesting that Cade be allowed to descend the mountain and escape the "hell" world in his eyes.

"As a Buddhist disciple with impure senses, you are to be expelled from the mountain!" the Great Peacock King, with a somber face, issued this Buddhist decree, not wishing to see such a disciple for another moment.

On Mount Sumeru, the Bodhisattvas and Arhats seemed to be sending off a plague god as they escorted them down the mountain.

Huahua, like a chatterbox, held onto the old monk Mahakashyapa's hand and talked endlessly, spitting saliva as if he hadn't spoken in ten lifetimes, having an inexhaustible supply of words.

He prattled on, spattering saliva, pulling the old monk to chat, inviting him to leave the mountain and become a guardian, to compensate for the years of suffering he endured under suppression.

Great Saint Mahakashyapa could initially tolerate it, but later, his snowy white eyebrows twitched incessantly, wishing he could slap Huahua to death. He truly couldn't bear it; the chatterbox's mouth simply wouldn't stop.

"Master, your beard has turned white."

"Master, your shoes are about to get holes for your toes."

"Master, were you ever slashed when you were young? You have a scar on your nose as big as a bowl."

Listening to these rambling remarks and this god-like, illogical train of thought, the old monk Mahakashyapa wanted to simply strangle him.