A voice like a crack of thunder reverberated through the mountains: "Damn it all! Listen up, you scruffy mongrels of the Palace of Grand Beginning! Our abbess declared that if you don't hand over that licentious monk Wei Yuan today, we will raze your mountain to the ground and leave not a single blade of grass standing! Waaah-ya-ya-ya-ya!!"
Shuddering in terror inside his quarters, Wei Yuan knew the wronged party had come knocking and that he could not stay here a moment longer. Frantically packing his clothes, he muttered to himself, "This humble monk is Wuyuan, not whatever Wei Yuan you speak of! Ruining women's virtue was all that Wei Yuan's doing—don't come looking for me—"
His hands froze. He blinked and mumbled, "Wei Yuan? Isn't that my secular name?"
A bronze mirror rested on the table in the room. He peered into it and was greeted by the reflection of a fair-faced, red-lipped young monk whose striking looks could rival anyone's.
Yet at the sight of that gleaming bald head, Wei Yuan shrieked and bolted awake from the nightmare, drenched in cold sweat.
"You're awake?" came Zhang Sheng's voice.
Panting violently, Wei Yuan stared at the canopy above his bed, unable to collect his wits for a moment. That dream had been utterly horrifying. It felt as though he had been hunted for an eternity, to the point where not even the Palace of Grand Beginning could shield him.
The abbess was youthful and breathtakingly beautiful, yet her magical powers were terrifyingly profound, having battered the patriarchs so thoroughly that none dared poke their heads out.
Once he steadied his racing heart, Wei Yuan suddenly noticed an oddity: he had borne so much blame, fled in such miserable disgrace, and slipped into the role of a monk with utter naturalness—yet what was the cause of it all?
Why had he not dreamt a single detail of the inciting incidents, those unspeakable, atrocious acts that had sparked the vendetta in the first place?
Just as Wei Yuan was still trying to calm his churning thoughts, Zhang Sheng spoke from beside him: "Wuyuan, if you're awake, stop lazing in bed."
Wei Yuan's vision went black!
*Did I talk in my sleep?!*
Sweeping his divine sense outward, Wei Yuan contemplated whether he should burst through the window, flee the scene, and find somewhere quiet to hide before dealing with this.
Yet the moment his divine sense stirred, he immediately caught numerous familiar auras. Beyond Zhang Sheng, there were Bao Yun, Feng Tingyu, Xu Henshui, Cui Yu, Sun Yu, Li Zhi... Every cultivator of the Palace of Grand Beginning was present.
His expression blank and his mind numb, Wei Yuan slowly turned his head. He was indeed lying in his own bedchamber. Zhang Sheng sat by the bedside while the others stood before it, their gazes deeply complicated. At least to Wei Yuan, they looked extraordinarily, painfully complicated.
Composing himself, Wei Yuan racked his brain to recall what had happened, but his memories ended at the moment the karmic fire incinerated the Shamans. Everything after that was a blank.
Zhang Sheng flicked a wisp of sword qi, which coalesced into a floating illusion. It depicted the scene of Wei Yuan summoning the red lotus karmic fire upon the battlefield. Then, a rift had suddenly torn open in the sky, and a faint, thousand-zhang-long finger had materialized, descending toward Wei Yuan.
The instant the finger appeared, Wei Yuan had lost consciousness and plummeted from the sky. Yet right then, a clear sword chime rang out from beyond the nine heavens, and the finger instantly faded into near-translucence, its descent slowing to a crawl.
Simultaneously, the golden body of an Arhat surfaced over Wei Yuan. With bowed head and lowered eyes, it softly chanted scriptures—none other than the Red Lotus Universal Deliverance True Words. A spark of red and black karmic fire suddenly ignited upon the celestial finger, swiftly spreading across its entire length.
A roar of fury seemed to echo from beyond the heavens. The rift snapped shut, and the colossal hand vanished.
The Arhat's golden body dissipated as well. At the final moment, two beads from the prayer bead bracelet on its wrist abruptly shattered into countless golden feathers of light, dissolving between heaven and earth.
Wei Yuan recognized this Arhat: it was the Vast Wisdom Supreme Universal Deliverance Arhat, the source of his Red Lotus Bodhi. Wei Yuan had coveted that strand of prayer beads for a long time back then. Now it appeared the beads truly were supreme treasures—and very likely ones meant to ward off tribulations in someone's stead.
With two beads shattered and the celestial finger set ablaze by karmic fire, it was hard to say who had gained the upper hand.
Originally, Wei Yuan had merely laid a hidden trump card, having Feng Chutang quietly deploy an array to unleash karmic debt so as to inflict as many casualties on the Shaman army as possible.
Wei Yuan had only intended to inflict heavy losses, but judging from the projection, the scope and hidden depths of the incident far exceeded his wildest imagination. Immortals had personally entered the fray, exchanging blows across the void.
Furthermore, no one knew when Arhat Vast Wisdom had laid that hidden hand. Not only had Wei Yuan failed to notice it, but even True Monarchs like Xuan Yue, Huang Yun, and Bao Manshan—and even masters like Canglongshi and Xuanjizi—had never spotted the slightest clue.
Zhang Sheng said, "What we can confirm now is that the will from beyond the heavens attempting to obliterate you was the Ancestral Shaman's will.
"The Ancestral Shaman was not actually the very first Heavenly Shaman, but he was undeniably the strongest Heavenly Shaman the Shamans ever produced. Later, he merged his body with the Great Dao, turning himself into a part of the Wu domain's world order. From then on, the heavens and earth of the Wu domain shifted, tilting the environment heavily in the Shamans' favor. It was through this that the Shamans reversed their million-year disadvantage against the Liao Clan and gained the upper hand.
"Naturally, merging with the Dao comes at a grievous cost. It is said the Ancestral Shaman no longer possesses self-awareness and acts solely on heavenly instinct. Your Martial Uncle Feng knows more about this; let him explain."
Feng Chutang coughed softly. He was bundled tightly in thick furs as if enduring the frigid northern frontier, even though they were currently in the sweltering Wu domain where most could wear only light shirts.
His voice lacked vigor as he said, "Under normal circumstances, the Ancestral Shaman has no conscious will unless an event occurs that threatens the world order of the Wu domain. Beyond that, at certain critical junctures, the Shamans can briefly borrow a fraction of his might through secret arts he left behind. However, the price is devastating; historically, they have only invoked it during wars against the Liao Clan or the Mountain Folk. We humans have never been deemed worthy of it.
"Thus, though the Ancestral Shaman's will intervened, there is no need to worry for the time being. We simply must find out what provoked him to strike."
Wei Yuan felt a significant weight lift from his chest. Having an immortal merged with the Heavenly Dao constantly targeting you was hardly a pleasant prospect. Watching the illusion and matching it to his memories, Wei Yuan realized that his collapse had actually been caused by his inability to endure the backlash of the Wu domain's world order—meaning the Ancestral Shaman had already struck at that very moment.
Even if it was merely an unconscious reflex, it would have been more than enough to send Wei Yuan into the cycle of reincarnation. Had Arhat Vast Wisdom not left a hidden measure, and had the Immortal Monarch of the Sword Palace not intervened, Wei Yuan would have been doomed.
Yet having grasped the sequence of events, Wei Yuan sensed something unnatural. "They were merely several hundred thousand commoner foot soldiers. How could that provoke the Ancestral Shaman into striking?"
Feng Chutang replied, "Other immortals might be swayed by mortal desires, but this entity is effectively the Heavenly Dao itself; any move he makes must have a cause. The waters behind this run far deeper than you imagine. It may well be that someone used your hands to place a chess piece, forcing the Ancestral Shaman to respond."
Wei Yuan felt a throbbing headache. Yet when the opportunity had presented itself on the battlefield, how could he have backed down?
In a grand game where immortals placed the pieces, Wei Yuan was not even qualified to participate, let alone know whether he was trapped on the board. A wave of melancholy washed over him.
As if reading his thoughts, Zhang Sheng said flatly, "Before attaining immortality, every immortal was once a chess piece, and every one of them was once bait on someone else's hook. There is no need to overthink it. When soldiers come, block them with generals; when water rises, dam it with earth. Just do what needs to be done. Even if an immortal laid this piece, so long as it was the right move to make, then make it."
Hearing these words, Wei Yuan felt his spirits lift, and the lingering dejection vanished without a trace. Just as Zhang Sheng said, even if he had known someone was pulling the strings from the shadows, he still would have detonated the karmic fire.
Otherwise, had those eight hundred thousand Shaman troops overrun their positions, Qingming's already battered elites would likely have collapsed entirely, leading to hundreds of thousands of civilian casualties.
Putting his worries aside, Wei Yuan asked, "How long was I unconscious? What is the current military situation?"
"You were out for a full day. The Shamans retreated while the karmic fire was still burning."
Wei Yuan breathed a sigh of relief. This was well within his expectations. The Shamans had lost a million-strong army in a single battle. Though seven or eight hundred thousand remained, they were all commoner slaves and noble retainers of negligible combat prowess. Such a disorganized rabble would shatter at the first charge; they could only be used to hold territory and serve as labor to alter the environment, never for proper battle formations.
Remembering something else, he asked urgently, "Were the Shaman corpses recovered?"
"Recovered."
Wei Yuan pressed, "What about their armor and weapons?"
"All cleaned up and prepped for the smelters."
Wei Yuan asked again, "The mounts and beasts—has the meat been processed?"
This time, Old Daoist Chuhe answered on Zhang Sheng's behalf: "Stored away, and currently undergoing toxin removal."
Wei Yuan continued, "What about the supplies and baggage from their military camps?"
Unable to listen any longer, Zhang Sheng snapped, "You are a Domain Lord commanding hundreds of thousands of troops and presiding over a million civilians. How can you be so utterly obsessed with money? What kind of image are you projecting?!"
Wei Yuan replied earnestly, "As Domain Lord, I have over a million mouths to feed! Naturally, I must pinch every copper. A war costs so much; how can we manage if we don't recoup some of our losses?"
Feng Chutang chuckled. "Our junior nephew is truly a man of genuine passion."
Wei Yuan felt this was meant as a compliment, yet for some reason, it grated on his ears.
Seeing that Wei Yuan was awake and well, the crowd refrained from disturbing him further and took their leave one by one, leaving only Zhang Sheng in the room.
Wei Yuan shifted his body, feeling completely hollowed out without a shred of strength. His Dao power had been entirely depleted. Fortunately, all was well within the Smoke and Fire of the Mortal World, which had already begun absorbing the origin qi of heaven and earth to convert into Dao power.
Yet there was still one pressing matter. Wei Yuan lowered his voice and asked, "When did they all arrive?"
Zhang Sheng said coolly, "Shortly after you passed out and the Shamans retreated. Everyone was worried about you, so they trickled in one after another. In the end, we were treated to a string of legendary tales. The stories were so thrilling that we stayed and listened until now."
Wei Yuan's vision swam again, and he nearly blacked out a second time. Steeling his nerves, he tried to recall his dream. Aside from being relentlessly hunted down, there didn't seem to have been anything else, which offered him a sliver of relief.
Suddenly, Zhang Sheng leaned forward. Her exquisite hand slipped beneath the quilt and firmly gripped Wei Yuan by his vitals. With a half-smile, she said:
"Master Wuyuan, quite the repertoire you have there! Quite the wild games you play! Come now, tell me: who is Ruhua? Who is Siyu? And who might Jingjing be? Why was that lovely young abbess hunting you across ten thousand li?
"The master even knows how to 'knock on the moonlit door like a wandering monk'—how exquisitely refined! Yet once you were done, you left behind 'a quiet meditation room coiled with fragrance, where no grand monk remains, only traces of moonlight.' To dust off your seat and walk away like that... isn't that rather improper? If the master can treat others so, does he plan to do the same to us in the future?"
This time, Wei Yuan was genuinely on the verge of fainting. Desperately grasping for words, he blurted out, "That was all the doing of that licentious monk Wuyuan! It has nothing to do with me!"
Zhang Sheng tightened her grip a fraction and purred, "Very well. Then why don't you tell me, in exhaustive detail, exactly what that Wuyuan did?"
Chapter 558