A bleak, somber chill gripped the royal palace of the Jin capital. Every plum blossom had withered and fallen, carpeting the ground in a layer of crimson.
Outside Chunhua Hall, palace guards, imperial bodyguards, and eunuchs with cultivation stood in dense, quiet formation. Not a single soul dared to make a sound.
The King of Jin arrived in haste. Stepping toward the courtyard gate of Chunhua Hall, he suddenly hesitated. It had been far too long since he last entered this place. His fond memories of it remained frozen at the moment Prince Fu was born; ever since, his recollection had been shrouded entirely in gloom, wind, and snow.
After a brief pause, the King of Jin crossed into the courtyard of Chunhua Hall nonetheless. As his toes touched down, they stirred up a faint ring of dust barely visible to the naked eye.
The courtyard was steeped in desolation. Snow had accumulated thick and undisturbed, blanketing even the pathways, for no one had swept it away. Across the white expanse lay scattered flecks of crimson, glaringly bright—looking less like fallen plum petals and more like freshly spilled blood.
The King of Jin drew a deep breath. Just as he prepared to proceed inside, he noticed a figure quietly taking shape beside him.
Wei Yuan and the King of Jin exchanged a silent glance, then walked toward the hall together. Halfway across the courtyard, Wei Yuan suddenly paused and leaned down to pick up a plum blossom petal lying beside the path. While every other withered petal was blood-red, this one was half-wilted. Along the edge of its shriveled surface ran a faint smear of blood, which surprisingly gave off specks of golden light.
Beside him, the King of Jin's pupils narrowed slightly. Having cultivated alongside the green-eyed woman for many years in his late life, he was naturally familiar with such traces. This was buddha blood, and blood belonging to one who held karmic attainment at that.
Wei Yuan carefully stored the petal away, then stepped into Chunhua Hall.
Consort Yuan lay on her back on the floor before the window, her profile peaceful as though asleep, bearing the serene tranquility of release. Without altering his pace, Wei Yuan walked over to her side and slowly knelt down.
The King of Jin stopped at the main doors of Chunhua Hall, not venturing inside.
Wei Yuan reached out and gently touched Consort Yuan's cheek. Beneath his fingers, there lingered a faint warmth, as if she were merely slumbering. Yet Wei Yuan knew that her body was in the midst of continuous transformation, shifting into a state he struggled to fully comprehend. Consort Yuan had already become an object entirely devoid of life, severed from all past karma, no longer tainted by mortal dust.
At this moment, she seemed reborn.
Wei Yuan withdrew his hand slightly. Deep within his pupils, a tiny azure dragon emerged. A spark of temporal power ignited at his fingertip, and he tapped it against the center of Consort Yuan's brow.
In an instant, light and shadow shifted, transporting them into a separate pocket of time.
It was still a sunlit afternoon, yet obvious gloom had already crept along the distant horizon; the brilliant, warm sunlight lingered for only a fleeting moment.
Consort Yuan stood before the window, the soft sunlight caressing every contour of her face. The passage of years had left no mark upon her; she remained as flawless as ever.
Turning her head, Consort Yuan looked toward Wei Yuan and said, "I knew you would come, so I've been waiting."
"I am here."
A smile carrying hints of release and peace touched Consort Yuan's lips. She said, "Then let me tell you everything I have always wanted to say. I have always felt sorry—sorry that our first encounter was so unpleasant. Back then, I was a dreadful person as well. I never dared say these things to you before, but now that I am leaving, I finally can.
"Later, when the child was born, I told you he was the reincarnation of an Arhat, but in truth, he was not. He carried only a sliver of the Arhat's karma, meant to deceive our enemies beyond this realm. The true Arhat's karma... rests within me.
"On those nights when I fought desperately against assassins who could have appeared from nowhere, it wasn't just for our child, but for myself as well. Because of his status as the Arhat's reincarnation, you treated him with indifference. Meanwhile, to keep him out of the enemy's sights, I deliberately prevented him from contacting Buddhist teachings, and I did so far too overtly. Because of that, he came to harbor secret resentment toward both of us, allowing the Buddha Child to take advantage of his vulnerability.
"Yet in truth, I knew that his supposed innate wisdom was merely skin-deep. If he ever pursued Buddhist arts to their profound depths, he would run into a wall, and by then, it would be too late. And as for you..."
Here, Consort Yuan paused, glancing out the window. Outside, what had been brilliant sunshine was now blanketed in heavy gloom. The Buddha Child was stepping through the walls, approaching at an unhurried pace.
Watching the young monk draw steadily closer, sorrow welled in Consort Yuan's eyes. She said, "At first, I thought you disliked the child merely out of misunderstanding, but you didn't know that I, too, possessed innate wisdom. The moment I saw the Buddha Child arrive, I understood: you deliberately pushed that child out. You thought what you were trading away was merely the Arhat's reincarnation, but in reality, what you cast aside was our child!
"I know you did it for the greater picture, but the core of that greater picture is actually you yourself. I don't want to blame you. After all, this deed in itself is the greatest punishment you could face. As for me, I don't wish to hide any longer. I will wait here, and let the Arhat's karma end with me. I am tired..."
From outside the window, a hand as delicate as a woman's reached in and gently tapped the center of Consort Yuan's brow, withdrawing the moment it made contact.
Consort Yuan slowly fell backward, her sleeves fluttering as they brushed away the last remnants of sunlight on her body, scattering into brilliant fragments like butterflies caught in a tempest.
Her body struck the ground and merged with the present reality. The fragment concealed within the seam of time vanished forever.
Wei Yuan did not move, though turbulent waves surged in his heart. He knew Consort Yuan had not needed to die; the immense karma of the Arhat's reincarnation would have been enough to carry her through this calamity without peril. She had chosen to give up on her own.
The moment she realized Wei Yuan had pushed Prince Chu forward, she abandoned all desire to live.
Reflected in Wei Yuan's pupils, Consort Yuan's face was calm and serene, carrying the ease of release. Ever since she grew up, she had never known happiness. Even after meeting Wei Yuan in the Arhat secret realm, that distorted and manipulated life had brought her mostly guilt and self-reproach.
Only after she told him her name did a few rays of sunlight finally pierce the world where it had always been raining.
Yet Wei Yuan had always been occupied, campaigning in every direction, rarely able to visit her. Throughout that time, Wei Yuan faced life-and-death crises on multiple occasions, while Li Ruyi, constrained by her status, could neither share his burden nor even show herself. She could only linger far away at the other end of the world, gleaning scraps of news through others and feigning mild surprise under the guise of an uninvolved bystander, never daring to overstep.
She had accepted such a life, never expecting that the source of that sunlight would turn out to be thunder.
And so, her world collapsed.
A faint mist of light rose from Li Ruyi's form. Her body began to dissolve into nothingness, leaving behind several sarira of varying sizes where she had lain. Yet they had all lost their luster; after a moment, they too shattered one after another, turning into calamity ash and scattering on the wind.
At this point, Wei Yuan understood everything.
Exposing Prince Chu had been a final decision Wei Yuan reached after agonizing for more than a dozen days and nights. Using Prince Chu as the Arhat's reincarnation to pin down the main forces of the Buddhist sects had bought a sliver of opportunity for Zhu Yan's ascension. Yet in truth, Wei Yuan had known all along that the genuine killing tribulation was aimed at him. As long as the enemy found an opening, they would surely abandon Zhu Yan to eliminate him instead.
This was not difficult to deduce. The enemy had deployed heaven-defying means to trigger the opportunity for Zhu Yan's ascension, yet their true target was never Zhu Yan—it was True Monarch Yanshi, the Palace of Grand Beginning, and above all, Wei Yuan. The fact that the Venerable Master's final strike was directed at Wei Yuan rather than Zhu Yan was proof enough.
Thus, the core of the overarching situation in this era was Wei Yuan himself. Doing it for the 'greater picture' was, in truth, for Wei Yuan himself. Precisely because of this, it was the greatest punishment he could endure.
Yet Wei Yuan had been left with no choice. Had he lost this game, he would not have lost merely himself—he would have lost the Palace of Grand Beginning's future, and perhaps the entire Palace of Grand Beginning itself. Two successive generations of Immortal Monarchs had willingly sacrificed themselves to shield Wei Yuan as he grew; generations of Palace Masters before them had staked their immortal paths to secure this standing. How could Wei Yuan allow it to be destroyed in his hands?
Furthermore, surrendering mastery over this world to the Venerable Master and his cohort was something Wei Yuan could never accept.
Doing so would mean hundreds of millions of mortals would remain like ants, like worthless weeds; this sky, this earth, and this mortal world would continue to be a place where one cultivated only for oneself, where even saving others was branded as heresy; and though the world was vast and time was long, there would be no place for mortals to find shelter.
So even if he had to do it all over again, Wei Yuan would still push Prince Chu out.
Li Ruyi knew Wei Yuan was right, but she could not accept it.
Wei Yuan's fingertips brushed over the remaining calamity ash. But calamity ash was ultimately nothingness; it would not cling to fingers, nor would it linger long in the world. Speck by speck, it drifted from Wei Yuan's fingertips, dissolving into faint sparks of light.
In this world, there was no longer a Li Ruyi.
With a calm expression, Wei Yuan rose and turned to leave. Pausing as he brushed past the King of Jin, he said, "The Pure Land."
A flash of killing intent flared in the King of Jin's eyes, then vanished just as swiftly, much like back when he still bore the reputation of a virtuous prince.
Wei Yuan lingered in the courtyard for a brief moment, gazing at this Chunhua Hall that had remained virtually unchanged over the past dozen years.
The only addition was the pair of flowering trees Wei Yuan had planted with his own hands: one to keep watch over Prince Chu, the other to protect Ruyi.
Without the tree monitoring the Prince of Chu's residence, the young monk would not have located Prince Chu so easily. But the one meant to protect Ruyi had been suppressed by her own doing.
Wei Yuan let out a soft sigh and walked out of the courtyard gates of Chunhua Hall. Perhaps he would never return to this place again.
The wind blew hard against his face.
Looking back over the entire sequence of events, Wei Yuan felt he was not in the wrong, Ruyi was not in the wrong, and Prince Chu was certainly not in the wrong.
The fault lay with the Baohua Pure Land, the Venerable Master, and the other hidden schemers aligned against him. Anyone seeking to point fingers at him was merely a coward who lacked the spine to confront the enemy.
The current situation was actually far better than Wei Yuan had anticipated. His sudden slaying of Lu Changhe had disrupted all of the enemy's arrangements, forcing them to trigger their contingencies ahead of schedule. Then Wei Yuan had forcefully withstood Xu Shuhe, whom the enemy dispatched for mutual destruction, while on the other side, Zhu Yan seized the opportunity to achieve ascension.
Meanwhile, the main forces of the Baohua Pure Land had gone to capture Prince Chu. From the Four Sages Academy, only Master Gu had arrived, while Duke Yansheng never appeared, his whereabouts a mystery, tied down by some unknown matter.
Thus, the final outcome amounted to trading the Arhat's reincarnation for Zhu Yan's ascension and Xu Shuhe's demise; Lu Changhe had not even been part of the initial calculation. Furthermore, Prince Chu had been merely a hollow lure, an Arhat's reincarnation in appearance alone.
Perhaps after some untold time, Arhat Guangzhi would stir up karma anew and seek out another reincarnation, but that was a matter for later days.
"Don't stop me! I want to see Father!"
While Wei Yuan was lost in thought, a sudden commotion broke out nearby. A middle-aged man shoved past the imperial guards and rushed forward, dropping to his knees before Wei Yuan with a thud and weeping, "Mother Consort is gone, and Brother's whereabouts are unknown! The only family I have left in this world is you, Father!"
Wei Yuan focused his gaze and saw a middle-aged man prostrate on the ground. His face was pale and puffy, with sagging bags under his eyes and drooping jowls. He looked to be forty or fifty years old; going by looks alone, he was old enough to be Wei Yuan's father.
This man's cultivation was only at the mid Dao Foundation stage, and his foundation was extremely flimsy—inferior even to a template Dao Foundation. Wei Yuan did not recognize him in the slightest. Sweeping the man's sea of consciousness and soul with divine sense and cross-referencing it with his memories, he finally understood the newcomer's identity: Prince Fu.
Now that Lu Changhe was dead and all their contingencies had come to naught, the secret of Prince Fu's origins had lost all meaning.
Without the slightest change in Wei Yuan's expression, Prince Fu was suddenly teleported a hundred fathoms away. Wei Yuan then walked out of the royal palace and took to the sky, flying off into the distance.
Chapter 1142