Rules

Wei Yuan looked up at the old monk standing in midair and asked in a gentle voice, "May I ask where the master comes from?" The old monk raised his eyebrows and glared fiercely, shouting, "This old monk is Hanzhong, abbot of Kongshan Temple, who has cultivated in secluded tranquility in the mountains for one thousand three hundred years! Today, I truly cannot bear to watch you demon posing as a Buddha in this blessed land, bewitching the believers. That is why I have come to deliver a sharp wake-up blow! If you remain unrepentant, this old monk will have no choice but to employ demon-subduing measures." Wei Yuan nodded. "So that's how it is. In that case... come down and speak." The moment the words left his mouth, the old monk Hanzhong, who was already at Scenery Command, suddenly felt his body grow unimaginably heavy. He plummeted headfirst from midair and slammed violently into the ground, gouging out a massive crater. Dazed and disoriented, the old monk could not even scramble up for a moment, appearing in a worse state than an ordinary mortal. Wei Yuan looked down at him from above—this angle felt far more comfortable—and smiled faintly. "Master, one's altitude should match the heights of one's cultivation. Given your virtue, Master, you were still flying a bit too high just now." The old monk clearly had an explosive temper; he roared like thunder, yet for some reason, he could not mobilize even a shred of the Dharmic power he had cultivated over a millennium. No matter what technique he tried to invoke, it was completely useless, leaving him only able to struggle in the dirt. Deep within Wei Yuan's eyes, several great stars rotated as the five great true spirits took turns exerting pressure, suppressing the old monk so thoroughly that he could not even stand. This was a pure clash of divine arts; having only newly entered Scenery Command, how could the old monk possibly match Wei Yuan's several true spirits? Just then, another chant of the Buddha's name echoed as a dignified, middle-aged monk walked over, saying, "For the benefactor to humiliate a Buddhist cultivator without cause is going a bit too far." Wei Yuan replied, "The moment he arrived, he pointed at my nose and hurled insults—was that not humiliating me?" The middle-aged monk said, "Senior Brother Hanzhong was merely rebuking an outer path. If we speak of karma, it was you, Benefactor, who committed evil first." Wei Yuan asked, "May I ask the master's Dharma name?" "This poor monk is Hanchan of Kongshan Temple." "Master Hanchan, these people were originally the subjects of my Western Jin. How is converting my own subjects and guiding them onto the Great Dao committing evil?" Hanchan chanted another Buddhist proclamation. "Benefactor, those you are converting are the people of our Pure Land. They have lived and worked in peace and contentment here for thousands of years. Why must Benefactor generate such evil karma and consort with external demons?" "When did they become Buddhist disciples? How did they become Buddhist disciples?" Wei Yuan countered. Hanchan did not answer, instead stating, "They are Buddhist disciples now." Wei Yuan asked again, "Then when did they become so?" Hanchan said once more, "Once taken refuge, forever Buddhist subjects. Those you are converting now are the people of our Buddhist land." Even with Wei Yuan's good temper, his expression darkened. These baldies—they simply refused to respond to anything disadvantageous to them, did they? Wei Yuan said in a low voice, "Judging by your virtue, Master, you are also standing a bit too high right now. This is my Dao arena. If you do not wish to be planted in the dirt, Master, you may leave on your own!" Hanchan chanted another Buddha's name. A glow of golden radiance flared behind his head, where a golden body faintly materialized. Wei Yuan sneered inwardly. As expected, he was someone who had invited a golden body dharma idol to possess his form. Furthermore, this great Bodhisattva golden body was not fully attuned to Hanchan; it had clearly just possessed him rather than being attained through his own cultivation. At that moment, the Buddhist light behind Hanchan's head swelled boundlessly, transforming into a hundred-zhang halo that illuminated an expanse of a hundred li. Forming a mudra with both hands, he declared, "Benefactor willingly plunges toward the Avici Hell, yet this poor monk cannot bear to watch Benefactor fall so far into ruin. These people of the Pure Land—return them!" As the Buddhist light cascaded down, the people Wei Yuan had just converted immediately showed expressions of agony and struggle. Many clutched their heads and collapsed to the ground, howling in ceaseless pain. Killing intent instantly flared in Wei Yuan's eyes! These were merely mortals whose souls were exceedingly fragile; undergoing conversion twice in succession was already their absolute limit. To ensure they retained clarity and intellect, Wei Yuan had been extraordinarily careful during this conversion, instilling only ten characters. Yet Hanchan's conversion began straight away with a voluminous great scripture of world-deliverance! In an instant, Wei Yuan sensed countless strands tugging back and forth. His conversion ritual was not yet fully complete, and Hanchan had struck precisely at this juncture to contest the believers with Wei Yuan! The two sides were engaged in a tug-of-war, and caught in the middle were frail mortals. Mere mortals—even if there were hundreds of thousands, nearly a million—how could they withstand the pulling of two True Monarchs? In the blink of an eye, many were already rolling on the ground in agony. Wei Yuan dared not apply more force, but Hanchan pulled with ferocious intensity. Suddenly, a shrill scream rang out—a peasant woman's eyes burst, and she collapsed backward onto the earth! Beginning with her, people collapsed in vast swathes within moments. Meanwhile, Hanchan chanted Buddhist names without pause, the radiance behind his head shining brighter and brighter as he swept wave after wave of intense light over the multitude! Watching tens of thousands of souls floating into the air, Wei Yuan's face turned livid. He had no choice but to yield slightly, letting go of the souls of those on the verge of death. Here, the brilliance of Wei Yuan's technique control showed itself. These tens of thousands were scattered all across the grounds, yet Wei Yuan pinpointed them with precision and abandoned the struggle over them to prevent their deaths. In contrast, Hanchan simply pushed the golden body to unleash sheet after sheet of fierce Buddhist light, wrenching desperately, not caring in the least how many souls had already been ruined or how many living spirits would be torn to shreds. Straining to tug with all his might, Hanchan wore a look of fury and bellowed, "These people died because of you, Benefactor! Your hands are dripping with blood—will you still not let go?!" At this moment, the killing intent vanished from Wei Yuan's face. Reaching out, he pinched a stick of pure incense from the small temple in the Pure Land and flicked it gently, planting it into the censer before the altar. The moment the pure incense settled, a faint glow lit up on the souls of everyone Wei Yuan was still shielding, protected by the merit accumulated in the Pure Land Grotto-Heaven. Though blessed by the golden body of great Bodhisattva rank, Hanchan exerted his power to pull repeatedly, yet could no longer shake Wei Yuan in the slightest. An expression of benevolence appeared on Hanchan's face, and he lightly tapped a finger toward the old monk Hanzhong. The old monk had still been struggling in the dirt. Seeing Hanchan point a finger at him from afar, he was taken aback and cried out in disbelief, "Junior Brother, you..." The immense golden body also extended a finger, pressing it upon the old monk. In an instant, the old monk's flesh and skin withered away, and his entire body of flesh, blood, and cultivation condensed into a single point of dazzling Buddhist light. In a flash, it illuminated all directions, causing even the pure incense drawn from the Pure Land Grotto-Heaven to flicker erratically. The tremendous power generated by a millennium of cultivation yielding to sudden nirvana was difficult even for Wei Yuan to withstand for a moment, and the believers were converted away in tens of thousands at a time. Wei Yuan was stunned as well. He could see clearly that the old monk Hanzhong had no desire to achieve nirvana, yet had been pointed to death by Hanchan's finger. Or rather—was he pointed to death by that golden body? With sorrow and pity written across his face, tears streaming from his eyes, Hanchan said, "Yet another blood debt is on your hands, Benefactor!" Wei Yuan was stunned once more. His eyes immediately grew deep and cold. Without another word to Hanchan, he thrust out a finger, drawing forth a strand of sword qi from the Fourth Grotto-Heaven. In an instant, it expanded to a thousand zhang and slashed straight down at the Bodhisattva golden body's head! The golden body instantly manifested three heads and six arms, each holding a ritual implement. The six implements interlaced, joining forces to block Wei Yuan's sword strike. The brilliant sword radiance illuminated heaven and earth in an instant. Hanchan felt a sudden heat between his brows, and a trickle of pale golden blood flowed down. Ignoring the wound on his forehead, he looked up at the golden body, only to see a distinct sword scar slashed across its face and head! Hanchan's mind went momentarily blank. The golden body of a great Bodhisattva could actually be wounded by a sword? This Wei Yuan wasn't even an immortal—by what right could he wound a golden body of karmic attainment? Hanchan was both shocked and enraged, with a lurking dread, and the urge to retreat had already arisen within him. Yet that thought only flickered in his consciousness for a split second before vanishing without a trace, leaving behind only hatred for Wei Yuan and the resolve to suppress this external demon. Thus, though fear was plastered across Hanchan's face, streams of Buddhist light poured from behind his head, sweeping frantically toward the multitude of believers. Wei Yuan could not even slash out a second sword beam for the moment; he planted two more sticks of pure incense, pouring his full power into shielding the mortals. If he were to let go right now, the souls of at least one to two hundred thousand people would be torn to pieces by the force of conversion in an instant. Hanchan was effectively melting down his own cultivation, Buddhist Dharma, and lifelong merit into a single furnace, which was the only reason he could briefly suppress Wei Yuan. But his rate of burning was far faster than a candle's; with almost every passing breath, he withered and aged visibly. Wei Yuan took another step back, releasing the several hundred thousand people whose lives were in critical peril and firmly holding on to the final three hundred thousand believers. By now, Hanchan had grown so emaciated he hardly looked human, resembling a skeleton. Casting a deep look at Wei Yuan, he turned and fled, abandoning the several hundred thousand people he had just forcibly converted back, disappearing in an instant. Wei Yuan looked toward those several hundred thousand people who had been converted yet again. Many sat blankly on the ground, weeping or laughing, muttering nonsensical words. After being converted three times, the vast majority had been reduced to lunacy. Wei Yuan slowly rose to his feet and surveyed the entire grounds. Then, through divine thought, he issued an order to mobilize the army and Golden Core cultivators to march on Kongshan Temple! Since the Pure Land did not intend to play fair, Wei Yuan had rules of his own.