Backlash

Li Tongya frowned and nodded. Minghui turned solemn, studying his face intently before speaking in a warm tone: “I study under a Maha. Once, a demon beast received teachings beneath my revered master’s seat. At that time, it was merely a demon soldier. “My master divined its fate, learning that this demon beast’s opportunity for Foundation Establishment lay in the State of Xu. He expended a great deal of dharmic power and karmic affinity to divine further, finding it would be at Mount Bianyan in the State of Xu. Thus, he dispatched it there to cultivate and await the proper time.” Master Minghui shook the monk’s staff in his hand, producing a burst of metallic jingling that echoed ceaselessly in the air like an eagle’s screech. He continued: “Later, when I attained the rank of Master, my revered master knew its destined hour had arrived, so he sent me to Mount Bianyan to claim it as my spirit beast mount. Who could have guessed that after this humble monk traveled on foot for more than three years, I would end up empty-handed!” Li Tongya understood immediately. Back then, when they had hunted down and killed that demon beast at Mount Bianyan, the wolf demon had repeatedly claimed that its karmic affinity was about to arrive. It seemed this was precisely what it had meant. Yet how could Li Tongya have been swayed by baseless empty words back then? Naturally, he had struck it down and slain it. Aware of the truth, Li Tongya nevertheless kept his expression unchanged and said with a faint smile, “The Master has actually come to question me? If the Maha divined its fate, then it should have been destined. Now that an error has occurred, either your revered master miscalculated, or the demon beast grew restless and brought about its own death. Even if it had anything to do with people like us, that too was merely the working of fate. How can you come questioning an immortal cultivator like me?” Parting his lips, Minghui forced out a laugh. Though he had guessed that this was mostly connected to the Li family, he felt a slight helplessness in his heart. With Mount Bianyan disrupted by numerous battles among Purple Palace masters, it had already been difficult to maintain that fabricated destiny. Master Minghui had originally hoped to see if he could extort something from Li Tongya, never expecting the man to be so sharp-tongued, turning his own spear against his shield and leaving him utterly speechless. Yet unable to swallow his irritation, Minghui could only laugh and say: “Since Benefactor’s fate is already cast, it is not for me to interfere. Lake Wangyue, however, is a fine place of clear breezes and bright moonlight. If a great being of our faith should reincarnate here, I trust Benefactor will look after them.” Li Tongya had also heard of many Buddhist techniques. Once a cultivator attained the Maha Dharma Aspect, a speck of their true spirit could be kept from perishing, allowing them to seek host vessels generation after generation to reincarnate. The Buddhist sect called this the path of rebirth—reproving the Maha from the body of an infant, cultivating across generations. It was truly wicked and sinister to the extreme. Li Tongya had tolerated him again and again, yet he had not expected the monk to grow increasingly shameless, actually setting his sights on the Li family’s younger generation. He said coldly: “Whatever endless cycle of reincarnation you Buddhists play at up north is none of our business, but do not dare direct your schemes toward the descendants of my family! If any Maha Dharma Aspect dares to steal and occupy the body of my clan’s children, even if I, Li Tongya, have to strangle that reincarnated spirit child with my own hands, I will never allow your kind to run rampant through the flesh of my family’s blood!” Minghui chuckled and waved his hands repeatedly, replying, “Benefactor has such a fiery temper! It was merely a jest. Our sect has never sought rebirth in the south, and even if it happened by chance, we would not seize the bodies of great clans and immortal lineages. That is an established convention. What is more, your noble clan is a family of sword immortals—we would dare offend you even less.” Though Minghui spoke with utmost deference, his expression and manner were thick with disdain. Li Tongya had no desire to exchange further words with him. He simply cupped his hands and said in a low voice: “Then I take my leave!” Unwilling to waste another breath, he rode the wind back down into the mountain. Minghui, for his part, nodded faintly. Watching Li Tongya descend into the mountain, he squinted for a while, colorful light swirling in his eyes as he stared blankly at the people at the foot of the peak. His gaze lingered for a moment on Li Qinghong, and he murmured: “Lightning arts... that seems to hold great affinity with my Buddhist sect! This lass is fair of face. To take her back as a maidservant to sweep, serve, and carry my dharma treasures—it is quite tempting indeed.” Minghui had refined a dharma treasure of his own: a grand golden palace filled with handsome men and beautiful women, serving as a sanctuary for his solitary cultivation. Seeing Li Qinghong’s strikingly valiant bearing, his desire was thoroughly stirred. After pondering for a moment, he thought to himself: “The south is in utter turmoil right now, and that so-called sword immortal is far away in Nanjiang. If I cast my spell properly and abduct this woman, who could say anything?” With his mind made up, his fingers had already formed the incantation seal, preparing to descend, alter his form, and see if he could spirit the girl away. Yet a violent premonition surged in his heart. Master Minghui hesitated once more, reflecting: “An uneasy feeling lingers in my chest. The Li family does, after all, carry the reputation of a sword immortal. It is better to draw a strand of fate and divine it first. Though it expends a bit more time and dharmic power, it will keep me from capsizing in an unexpected ditch.” Master Minghui raised a finger. Colorful light sparkled in his hand as he stood with eyes closed, divining for nearly half an hour before murmuring: “She is even Li Tongya’s legitimate granddaughter. That is somewhat troublesome; he would likely fly into a rage and harass me endlessly... Pah! Second stage of Qi Refinement, skilled with a spear...” As Minghui was concentrating on his calculation, he froze abruptly, standing in midair like a stone statue. His fleshy face stiffened into a stupor. Having attained the Stainless Body, he should theoretically have been free of tears and sweat, yet now he began to tremble violently. Fine beads of sweat materialized on his massive face; translucent droplets grew larger and larger, rolling down his smooth skin. Minghui’s eyes widened. The colorful light in his hand burned brighter and brighter, hovering in his palm like a star, but his face crumpled into a mask of despair. He did not dare make the slightest movement. Savoring a sense of danger so suffocating it nearly choked him, his legs went completely numb, and blood threatened to surge from his throat. *Merciful World-Honored One! If this humble monk pushes this finger down even a fraction further, if I divine even a single additional word, I will be utterly obliterated! Not the slightest chance of survival will remain!* The spiritual instinct from the unseen realms throbbed incessantly in his mind, making Minghui’s limbs shake uncontrollably as he cursed silently through gritted teeth: *She has definitely hooked into some mighty figure—at the very least a Golden Core cultivator! Damn it... How could such a destitute backwater be tied to a transcendent powerhouse like that? This is disastrous! Being obliterated into ash and smoke is no laughing matter!* Minghui had not yet attained the rank of Maha, but Buddhist cultivators were adept at affairs of the past and future. In theory, preserving his true spirit to reincarnate after death was entirely feasible. Yet right now, he understood with absolute clarity that the moment this divination yielded a result, he would be instantly reduced to ash, completely and utterly erased without leaving behind even a shred of true spirit. Never mind a mere Master like him—even a Maha would turn to dust! Covered in cold sweat, Minghui forcefully suppressed the spell in his hands. But the art was already halfway through its execution and proved exceedingly difficult to halt. He could only watch helplessly as the colorful light in his hands grew denser and denser, his eyelids twitching wildly. *Pfft!* Minghui had no choice but to reverse his incantation, spitting out a mouthful of fresh blood. Forcibly holding down the spell in one hand, he freed his other hand to form a sign, summoning a glittering golden palace. Within it were pavilions and towers, exquisite and breathtaking, where barefoot handsome men and fair maidens wandered, scattering specks of colorful light. “Sever!” With great difficulty, Minghui drove the dharma treasure and turned his palm into a blade, brutally hacking off the hand that was forming the spell of colorful light. Inside his body, there was surprisingly neither blood nor flesh; it was white and sticky like a lump of dough, trailing a thin tail of paste. Though the severed hand had separated from his body, it remained under his control, still locked in the seal to suppress the backlash. Master Minghui spurred the grand golden palace; all the doors and windows throughout the structure swung open at once, drawing in swirls of golden mist. The severed hand drifted upward and sank into the palace. “Phew...” Only then did Minghui let out a long breath. Glancing at the colorful light and severed hand sealed away within his dharma treasure, he gave a violent heave and stretch. From the stump, another hand pulled free just like dough—fair, tender, and spotless. “What on earth was that?!” Minghui wailed in grief and fury.