At Fujiang Estuary.
Atop a sea reef, several figures stood with hands at their sides, gazing eastward.
Suddenly, a dark silhouette appeared on the surface of the sea as a man came riding atop a lion.
"Greetings, Master."
The Dark Moon Guards bowed in salute. Feeling something amiss, they took a closer look and realized that the black lion was actually a demon Great Sage.
The black lion was their master's mount. Since they had yet to be granted permission to join Qingyang Temple, their status was hardly superior, and their cultivation was far below that of the black lion.
Not daring to show the slightest disrespect, the Dark Moon Guards bowed to the black lion as well.
The black lion snorted and tossed its head with an arrogant air.
"How is your investigation proceeding?" Qin Sang asked, landing on the reef atop the black lion.
One of the Dark Moon Guards immediately stepped forward and presented a jade slip. "Reporting to Master: following your command, we have made thorough preparations."
Qin Sang's true body had recently been staying in the Eastern Sea, while his external incarnation had been issuing orders.
At this moment, the external incarnation was busy with other matters in Zhongzhou and could not arrive in time.
After examining the jade slip, Qin Sang looked toward the Central Plains.
The collapse of the Saint King Palace and the disappearance of the Azure Fox Saint King indirectly proved that the two Deity Transformation cultivators were deeply affected by the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao. Even if they had not ascended, they were unable to extricate themselves.
While he had stirred up civil strife among the demon race in the Eastern Sea, his external incarnation had not been idle either, covertly investigating the Three Sects Alliance to uncover clues.
As matters stood, his only option was to visit the two fellow Daoists in person.
"Go on ahead and make ready," Qin Sang said, dismissing the Dark Moon Guards with a wave of his hand.
"Understood!"
The Dark Moon Guards departed upon receiving their orders.
Riding the black lion, Qin Sang set foot on land. With a clear destination in mind, he headed straight for Ganlu Zen Monastery.
The journey was uneventful.
Qin Sang did not approach the front gates of Ganlu Zen Monastery. Instead, he appeared on the mountain behind it, standing atop a peak and gazing at the range shrouded in mist.
"What a fine Zen monastery!" Qin Sang praised.
His external incarnation had entered and left Ganlu Zen Monastery many times, but this was the first time Qin Sang's true body had witnessed its grandeur with his own eyes.
The premier sect of Zhongzhou was indeed blessed by heaven.
Mount Bunian was a notch inferior compared to this place.
In those ancient days, the two Southern Barbarian prefectures where the Wuxiang Immortal Sect resided must have surpassed Zhongzhou, yet it had been ruined by the demonic catastrophe.
"Does Master intend to claim this sacred ground?" the black lion asked in a muffled rumble beside him.
Qin Sang cast a sidelong glance at the beast. Could it truly not know that a saint guarded Ganlu Zen Monastery? It was simply playing dumb to flatter its master. No wonder it had managed to cultivate to the late Transformation stage; it was first-rate even as a mount.
Channeling strength into his vision, he peered toward one of the peaks.
The Buddhist saint's sacred ground—Little Mount Fangcun.
These mountains clearly existed in truth, yet they appeared blurred, his sight obstructed by an invisible power.
Here, Qin Sang could detect neither demonic qi nor the presence of a Deity Transformation cultivator. After secretly observing for a while with the Heavenly Eye Butterfly's divine ability, he sat down cross-legged.
A month later.
Dozens of golden streaks of light suddenly took flight from Ganlu Zen Monastery. Lingering briefly before the mountain, they shot southwest.
Within the light were all disciples of the monastery, led by a portly monk with a bulging belly and a wine gourd hanging from his waist. A constant smile beamed on his face, resembling the Maitreya Buddha enshrined in temples.
The fat monk's aura was as profound as the sea. Riding no dharma treasure, he strolled through empty air; though his stride seemed leisurely, his speed was extraordinarily swift, and the novices trailing behind him had to strain with all their might just to keep up.
Compared to the fat monk, the presence of these young novices appeared much thinner. Flushed in the face, they urged their various dharma treasures in desperate pursuit, with only a few maintaining their composure.
Judging by their cultivation, aside from the fat monk, only two were young monks at the Core Formation stage, while the rest were merely at the Foundation Establishment stage.
As the fat monk led the group through the sky, practitioners they encountered along the way paused to bow respectfully. Acquaintances called out with smiles, "Guarding the disciples' experiential trial yourself again, Venerable Jingding?"
The fat monk uncorked his wine gourd, took a swig, and sighed, shaking his head. "This poor monk was born to labor."
The speaker surveyed the disciples behind him and nodded in approval. "Every one of them is fine, promising stock."
To accommodate the disciples, the fat monk halted several times along the way. Crossing countless mountains and rivers, they eventually arrived at a mountain range devoid of human habitation for hundreds of li around.
An outsider would see nothing unusual about this mountain.
The fat monk tipped his wine gourd downward. A stream of clear water poured forth, transforming into a downpour as it fell into the mountains, drumming down in a noisy cascade.
After the rain, the peaks appeared fresh and natural, the foliage lush and translucent, suffused with a faint aroma of wine.
Looking again at the central peak, its scenery had changed completely, as if some seal had been lifted to reveal its original state. The peak split down the middle, pouring forth a ceaseless torrent of dark red mist. At the mountain crest, it was held back by some power, gathering into a crimson cloud that exuded a bizarre aura mingling scorching heat and biting chill.
Beholding the red cloud, the disciples behind looked on with a mix of anticipation and curiosity.
The fat monk gave his wine gourd a shake, looking slightly pained. "You remember the rules of this trial better than an old monk like me. To stand out among so many of your martial brothers, you must remember that opportunities do not come easily. Do not treat this as child's play. Go!"
With that, the fat monk casually landed on a massive boulder on the mountainside as if well-accustomed to the place.
The boulder was as flat as a stone bed. The fat monk lay down upon it, crossing his legs with one hand propping the back of his head and the other tilting the gourd to take another sip before closing his eyes contentedly.
"Master, the abbot said your lack of inner stillness is what binds you to your bottleneck. You ought to take the monastic precepts."
The two young monks landed beside the stone bed. One of them, solemn and stern, spoke with a frown.
"Your master was born with wisdom roots. There is no need for precepts."
The fat monk wagged his head.
The two exchanged helpless looks and could only usher the disciples through the red mist into the mountain chasm.
The deeper they went, the thicker the mist grew until sight was lost, though divine sense remained largely unaffected.
The young novices felt the underground space broaden the further they descended. After venturing deep beneath the earth for who knew how far, the two guides halted on a platform. "Very well, my junior brother and I will wait for you here. This Red Cloud Dharma Land holds both opportunity and peril. If you encounter mortal danger, crush your jade talisman, and we will rescue you. However, doing so forfeits your qualification. Please consider carefully."
With that, the two swept their sleeves vigorously.
Amid a chorus of startled cries, the novices felt the world spin around them before being hurled to unknown places.
Setting aside their individual fortunes down below—
The fat monk lay on the stone bed, chanting no scriptures, merely sipping wine and gazing at the sky from time to time in utter contentment.
This trial would last at least ten days.
The fat monk was not drinking ordinary wine; narrowing his eyes, he quietly circulated his cultivation technique, his breathing steady as if drifting into slumber.
Suddenly, the stone bed beneath him jolted violently. The fat monk snapped his eyes open, realizing that it was not just the boulder—the entire mountain was shaking!
"What is happening?"
He was filled with doubt and alarm. The Red Cloud Dharma Land had served as a trial ground for over a thousand years without ever once descending into chaos.
His mind raced, and he suddenly recalled that before it had been chosen as a trial ground, the Red Cloud Dharma Land had once been a forbidden area of the sect. In its depths lay not only the bizarre red mist, but also an ancient broken formation.
Only after years of investigation by the sect's experts had the danger been cleared.
"Could something still be hidden beneath the broken formation?"
Not daring to delay, the fat monk summoned a refined-iron monk's staff and leaped into the chasm. Darting down to the platform, he found himself unable to sense any of the disciples' auras. His expression darkened further. Raising the staff, he smashed it downward with all his might.
*Whoosh!*
The staff tore through the air, unleashing a golden glow that formed an enlarged illusory staff many times its size, piercing the mist and plummeting straight down.
With the staff carving a path, the fat monk plunged swiftly after it.
Yet he had not descended far when a thunderous roar erupted from below, sounding like a collapsing mountain or a crashing tidal wave.
The fat monk's heart lurched. Looking closely, he saw billowing smoke surging upward—not red, but ink-black. Deep within the black smoke, scraps resembling silk drifted about, their runes flickering like fragments of some broken relic.
As the guardian of the Red Cloud Dharma Land, he naturally knew what this meant.
"Not good, the broken formation has gone awry!"
The black smoke rushed forth aggressively, the silk-like remnants coiling upward like spirit serpents.
Alarmed, the fat monk immediately crushed the wooden token at his waist. Thrusting his staff violently downward, he summoned a jade mirror that cast a wide sheet of white light.
Yet the black smoke proved overwhelmingly fierce. In an instant, it swept away the white light and swallowed the monk and his staff whole.
The moment the wooden token shattered—
Ten thousand li away from the Red Cloud Dharma Land.
An elderly monk in straw sandals and carrying a bamboo cane was begging for alms in the mortal realm. Suddenly, he looked up toward the west, and his figure vanished in an instant. The homeowner, who had just stepped out with vegetable buns, rubbed his eyes in disbelief, thinking his vision had played tricks on him, and cried out to the Bodhisattva.
Before long, the old monk appeared above the crimson clouds, looking down upon the Red Cloud Dharma Land.
By now, faint wisps of black qi could be seen churning within the red mist.
Scanning the scene, the old monk frowned slightly. Tightening his grip on his alms bowl, the wooden vessel burst into dazzling purple light, turning into a bowl of purple-gold. Flipping it upside down, a purple ray pierced the red mist like a sharp arrow.
Sensing the fat monk's presence, his expression shifted slightly, and he flashed into the mountain's depths.
The fat monk was desperately swinging his staff and shifting through several incantations, struggling to charge forward. With such an upheaval, the disciples were likely facing dire misfortune, but as the one tasked with watching over them, he could not abandon them.
Yet he could not see that at the source of the black smoke, several figures sat cross-legged within an ancient broken formation, casting spells, accompanied by a formidable black lion.
Suddenly, the black lion opened its eyes. Shaking its four paws, it charged outward with great ferocity.
By this point, the old monk had plunged into the black smoke, drawing close to the fat monk.
More perceptive than the fat monk, he sensed something and roared, "What fiend dares cause trouble in the Central Plains!"
With a flick of his wrist, the alms bowl in his hand was suddenly filled to the brim with clear water. Even held upright, not a single drop spilled over; instead, the surface shone like a mirror, reflecting the phantom image of a black lion.
Even amidst the chaos, he did not forget to use a secret technique to sound the alarm back to his sect.
The instant the black lion was revealed, a vicious wind struck from the side.
Ferocious and menacing, the black lion raised a massive paw and swiped ruthlessly at the old monk. Cold gleams flashed from its razor-sharp claws, slicing through the monk's protective true essence with a lethal strike right from the start.
The old monk snorted coldly. The prayer beads around his neck abruptly snapped, and beads of yellow wood shot toward the black lion like arrows. The beads transformed, revealing carved Buddhas, each lifelike and striking a distinct pose.
Buddhist light flared brilliantly.
Real phantoms of Buddhas manifested before the black lion, glaring down at it with righteous fury.
From the unseen realm, it felt as though true Buddhas were delivering a deafening blow beside the black lion's ear. The phantom statues turned corporeal, carrying the force of thunder as they struck back to counter the black lion.
With an enraged roar, the black lion shook its neck. Dozens of heads sprouted out of thin air, each facing a Buddha. Opening their bloody maws, they spewed dark beams to force the Buddhas back, while the front claw thrust toward the old monk's chest at even greater speed.
*Clang!*
The purple-gold alms bowl appeared before the old monk's chest in the nick of time, blocking the lion's claws. The old monk shuddered, falling back dozens of zhang. Staring at the black lion, his face filled with astonishment. "Fellow Daoist Black Lion, it's you?"
"You humans harbor treacherous ambitions—how dare you harm the Saint King? Prepare to die!" Finding a convenient pretext, the black lion smashed through the wooden Buddhas and closed the distance.
The old monk was struck with utter bewilderment. "How could you..."
Before the words could fully leave his mouth, it suddenly dawned on him. Given that demon fox's temperament, she very well might not have revealed the truth to her subordinates. How lamentable that this black lion remained so devoted to her!
Ignoring any explanation, the black lion fought as if prepared to die.
As the old monk maneuvered to dodge, he was about to speak when an icy chill crept over him. Catching sight of a familiar figure, his shock deepened. "Daoist Master Qingfeng?"
Outside the mountain chasm, Qin Sang's true body had already sealed the battlefield. No matter how formidable the old monk's divine abilities might be, he could not escape.
Qin Sang did not intervene in the fight, but turned his gaze toward Ganlu Zen Monastery. The old monk's distress signal had already reached it.
Ganlu Zen Monastery.
Master Xingji was conferring with an eminent monk.
Suddenly, an attendant came to report, "Senior Brother Jingding has sounded the alarm. An upheaval has broken out in the Red Cloud Dharma Land."
"The Red Cloud Dharma Land?"
Master Xingji exchanged a glance with the eminent monk.
The monk said, "Today is the day of the disciples' experiential trial... The dangers in that forbidden ground were purged long ago. How could trouble arise? Is Jingding unable to handle it as well?"
Master Xingji rose to his feet. "Junior Brother, accompany me to—"
Before he could finish, Master Xingji's expression relaxed slightly, and he chuckled. "Senior Brother Xingren is traveling through the mortal world and happens to be near the Red Cloud Dharma Land. He has already gone over."
"With Senior Brother Xingren present, there should be no cause for concern," the eminent monk agreed with a nod.
Master Xingji passed down orders and sat back down.
Senior Brother Xingren was at the late Nascent Soul stage, second only to himself. Had he not devoted his heart to the Dharma and repeatedly walked among mortals—once for nearly a century—thus delaying his cultivation, he might have reached the Deity Transformation bottleneck even sooner.
At this thought, Master Xingji's mood turned somber. What meaning was there in speaking of Deity Transformation now?
Setting aside his stray thoughts, Master Xingji was about to speak when his expression changed drastically. "Senior Brother Xingren is in danger!"
Even as he spoke, both monks had already appeared outside the mountain gates. At the same time, a bell tolled within the monastery, accompanied by sharp whistling as streaks of escape light shot into the sky one after another.
Master Xingji and the other cultivators of the highest attainment led the way, with the rest following behind.
In the past, Master Xingji would have needed to consider whether an old foe had come to stir up trouble, but now there was no longer any need to worry about a threat from a Deity Transformation cultivator.
The Red Cloud Dharma Land was not far from Ganlu Zen Monastery.
Before long, Master Xingji and his companions beheld the mountain billowing with thick smoke. What poured forth was not red clouds, but churning black fumes, the chaotic spiritual fluctuations inside clearly pointing to an intense battle.
Judging by the aura of the place, Senior Brother Xingren was at a disadvantage and in mortal peril!
The monks summoned their dharma treasures and rushed into the Dharma Land before they could even assess the situation.
Suddenly, a sigh sounded from behind them.
"Is Fellow Daoist Huiguang no longer in this realm?"
Master Xingji spun around in terror to see a Daoist standing behind them.
A trace of loneliness lingered in Qin Sang's eyes.
When a great cultivator of the sect fell into peril and was unable to escape, it stood to reason that a Deity Transformation cultivator should appear to lend a hand.
Chapter 1719