Wei Yuan could tell without even thinking that he could never speak of his karmic ties to the Great Joy King Buddha—especially not to Zhang Sheng. Otherwise, instead of eight out of ten rules restraining him in the future, it would probably be eight out of eight, and he might well earn the monastic name Bajie.
When Wei Yuan channeled the three lightning strikes through the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, they transformed into Buddhist divine lightning. Yet it was distinct from the orthodox Divine Filth-Cleansing Lightning, possessing far greater lethal and destructive power—the Void Sky Divine Lightning. At that moment, Wei Yuan gained sudden enlightenment into much of the true meaning of the Indestructible Dharma of Emptiness and Form. Not only did he learn the Void Sky Divine Lightning, but he also grasped a subtle distinction between the Great Joy King Buddha and the Great Sun Tathagata.
The Tathagata subdues demons, whereas the King Buddha exterminates them. That was the difference.
Having deployed the Void Sky Lightning, a stick of incense was lit within the incense burner inside the small temple. Once seven sticks were burning, the true form would manifest upon the lotus throne.
Wei Yuan appeared inside the small temple. At this moment, both Liandeng and Honglian reacted, each pressing their palms together in a respectful greeting.
Ignoring the two bald heads, Wei Yuan walked straight up to the incense burner and suddenly reached out to pull the stick of incense out!
If he could pluck this stick of incense, perhaps he could push back his karma with the King Buddha. Though Wei Yuan knew this was mostly futile, his fingers simply itched to try.
Sure enough, Wei Yuan’s grasp caught only empty air.
At that moment, the Blue Lamp Before the Buddha spoke faintly, “Trying to pull the incense after using the Pure Land’s power... truly scummy.”
Wei Yuan’s face turned dark as still water. As he glanced around, Liandeng panicked in alarm. “It wasn’t me!”
Wei Yuan looked at the blue lamp, then at Liandeng, waiting to see how this thieving bald monk would explain himself and smooth it over.
By now, Liandeng’s panic had passed. Putting on a solemn, revered demeanor, he said, “The lamp is the lamp, and I am myself. It is me, yet it is not me. If the Buddha Lord does not believe it, I have three scrolls of scriptures here. One reading will make everything clear to you.”
Looking at the three copies of the Three Realms Ruyi Scripture that suddenly appeared in Liandeng’s hands, Wei Yuan wouldn’t spare them a second glance, let alone open and chant them. He snorted and continued trying to pluck the incense, but each attempt grabbed only thin air.
Wei Yuan knew perfectly well the incense was right there, yet he simply could not touch it. The incense was profoundly wondrous: it seemed both present and absent. Whenever Wei Yuan reached for it, it shifted into nonexistence. Once his hand passed through, it shifted back into existence. And when he drew his hand back, it returned to that wondrous state of seeming both present and absent.
After several attempts, Wei Yuan suddenly realized that whether the incense existed or not depended on whether he reached out his hand. Thus, it was completely insoluble.
In this first contest against the Great Joy King Buddha, Wei Yuan had suffered defeat just like that. He gave a cold snort to keep his pride intact, then turned and walked away.
Only after he had left did Liandeng breathe a sigh of relief, a sheen of sweat beading on his bald head. At this point, Honglian asked curiously, “Senior Brother, what do those three scrolls of scripture speak of? How is it that I’ve never heard of them before?”
Liandeng smiled cheerfully as he picked up one of the scripture books and handed it to Honglian. Honglian opened it, only to find it was completely blank!
Liandeng beamed and said, “I only just made up the title of the scripture, so of course you’ve never heard of it.”
***
In the dim, gloomy space above the City of Heaven, six Heavenly Shamans, including Minglei, Youfeng, and Yanmo, stood suspended in the void, gazing at a full moon in the sky. At this moment, upon the surface of the moon, an egg as tiny as a speck of dust—yet blindingly conspicuous in the eyes of the Heavenly Shamans—was trembling faintly. Dense fissures were spreading across its shell.
Minglei’s expression was exceedingly grim as he said in a heavy voice, “This thing is about to hatch, and all of us are helpless to stop it. Youfeng, if not for that foolish plan you Nether Shamans devised, how could we have provoked such an eerie, bizarre evil entity?”
Youfeng flared up in rage. “How was my plan foolish? Speak plainly—where was it foolish? It was clearly the Power Shamans who were useless, and you Sacred Shamans who neglected your duties, that brought us to this current state! What does it have to do with me?”
Yanmo, who had been silent until now, spoke up, “You stood by and refused to help, causing Ronglong’s death, losing most of our authority over the Desolate Realm, and letting a Heavenly Shaman seat comparable to that of the First Heavenly Shaman slip out of our control and break away from the Wu domain! Having committed such an enormous crime, you still dare to act so arrogant? Will the Ancestral Shaman truly not punish you this time either? On what basis! Just because you are a direct blood descendant of the Ancestral Shaman?”
Youfeng replied coldly, “Simply on the basis that the Ancestral Shaman’s blood flows within me! You low-class shaman bugs with crude bloodlines—you dare think of climbing over my head?”
At these words, Yanmo shot to his feet, but Minglei grabbed hold of him. Minglei said slowly, “‘You’?”
Youfeng also knew her words had been slightly improper, but she was by nature incapable of admitting fault. She immediately retorted, “Yes, you—every single one of you present! Anyone without the Ancestral Shaman’s primordial blood flowing within them is of crude blood! Am I wrong?”
Minglei let out a cold laugh. “In a million years, this is the first time I’ve heard that Sacred Shamans are also of inferior blood.”
Youfeng sneered back in kind. “Minglei, don’t forget how your position as the First Heavenly Shaman came to be! It was bestowed upon you by the Ancestral Shaman! Even if a dog were placed in that seat, it could be the First Heavenly Shaman!”
Minglei’s expression did not change. Pulling Yanmo back down, he said, “Fine. Duly noted.”
Yanmo, however, struggled violently, wanting to charge forward and tear into Youfeng with his life, but Minglei held him firmly. In this miniature world, Minglei’s authority far exceeded Yanmo’s, so no matter what Yanmo did, he could not break free.
There was also a Spirit Shaman present, who remained silent from beginning to end.
At this moment, a sudden crack echoed—neither loud nor near, but so distinct that every shaman heard it clearly. A conspicuous fissure appeared across the eggshell on the full moon. Then, amid light tapping sounds, a fragment of the shell finally broke off!
The Heavenly Shamans forgot their bickering in an instant, their eyes fixed on that eerie egg.
Fragments of shell kept falling away until a hole large enough opened, and an indistinct thing crawled out from within. It was merely an ethereal shadow, seeming both solid and incorporeal, entirely devoid of any discernible shape—just an ambiguous, indistinct mass.
It stretched outward, first enveloping the eggshell. Piece by piece, the shell vanished, after which the shadow seemed to grow slightly larger. It was said to ‘seem’ larger because even the Heavenly Shamans could not clearly discern its outer contours.
Next, it began extending its form, spreading out as much as possible until it covered an area the size of several eggs, then remained still. After a moment, the Heavenly Shamans’ vision blurred slightly, and it seemed to have expanded once more.
Minglei was the first to realize something was wrong. “It’s devouring the full moon!”
The Heavenly Shamans unleashed their powers one after another, but all their formidable shamanic arts passed right through that small patch of shadow, blasting several massive craters into the moon’s surface while doing nothing more than quickening its pace of devouring and digesting.
Minglei’s face darkened further as he said, “Think of something! If this continues, the full moon might be pulled into another world by it!”
The Spirit Shaman remained silent as ever, wearing the look of one awaiting orders.
Yanmo sat unmoving and sneered, “We Power Shamans are brainless fools, incapable of coming up with a solution. Whoever caused the mess can clean it up themselves! Doesn’t the Ancestral Shaman’s blood flow through you? How is it you can’t even handle a tiny bug? What, could it be you’re carrying the Ancestral Shaman’s inferior primordial blood? If you truly lack the ability, you can wake the Ancestral Shaman—that’s your ancestor! We can’t wake him, but surely you can!”
Minglei frowned and snapped, “Yanmo, you must not show disrespect to the Ancestral Shaman!”
Yanmo burst into laughter. “Disrespect? They got Ronglong killed! If they aren’t even held accountable for that, why the hell should I show them any respect?!”
Youfeng was enraged and shrieked, “Yanmo! What insolence! This is treason! I’ll kill you right now!”
Yanmo sneered, “Fighting here puts me at a huge disadvantage, but who cares? A disadvantage is a disadvantage. You might be able to kill me, but even in death I’ll rip off one of your chicken wings! And if you fail to kill me this time, I’ll go to the Desolate Realm. There’s a Heavenly Shaman seat there too, and I’ll stage a real rebellion for you to see—what can you do about it?!”
Molten magma suddenly surged across Yanmo’s entire body, and he roared furiously, “Come on! Come kill me!”
Minglei reached out and forcefully pressed Yanmo back down into his seat inch by inch. Youfeng rejoiced, saying, “Good, that’s more like it! Hold him still—I want to torture him thoroughly for a hundred years!”
Youfeng whipped out a ribbon, lashing it toward Yanmo’s face!
Fire spat from Yanmo’s eyes, yet he was pinned by Minglei, unable to budge. He glared fixedly at the incoming ribbon, waiting only for it to strike his face before detonating himself with all his might. While he could not kill any Heavenly Shaman within this miniature world, he could blow apart this pocket realm that represented the Ancestral Shaman’s authority.
The ribbon flew over, only to fall into Minglei’s hand, where it was likewise held fast, unable to move.
Chapter 965