A Stick of Incense

Having made up his mind, Lu Jiangxian lightly tugged at the slender threads in the void, reflecting dazzling streaks of white light. He murmured, "Li Xuanling is at Mount Bianyan... and Li Tongya is on his way north..." He formed an incantation gesture with his fingers. Thousands of li away, Li Tongya immediately experienced a sudden flash of comprehension and quietly altered his course, flying swiftly toward Mount Bianyan. Lu Jiangxian watched the father and son in silence, a strange complexity rising in his heart. "Li Xuanling is already doomed to die. Only by killing him and becoming a Master will the Wrathful Mahasattva begin merging with Fahui's physical vessel... According to the arrangements of the Purple Mansion masters, after Li Xuanling dies, there should still be a scene where Fahui heads north and Li Tongya gives chase..." "Yet the longer this drags on, the more tightly Fahui and the Wrathful Mahasattva will merge. If he strikes at full strength, the lower Li Tongya's chances of survival will be, and the farther north he goes, the further he slips beyond my sight... It would be best if Li Xuanling can hold out a bit longer, so that when Fahui makes his breakthrough, Li Tongya can intercept him right at Mount Bianyan!" As he pondered silently, a sudden tremor rippled through the void. Lu Jiangxian quickly raised his hand, staring straight into the emptiness. Reflected in his eyes were dense, intertwined threads of myriad colors. He touched one lightly with his fingertip and whispered: "Guard your mind. Hold on for the time it takes a stick of incense to burn." With that, he channeled his dharmic powers with all his might, gazing at the slender strands in the void and silently calculating. *** Clang! Li Xuanling drew his sword to parry the iron fist swung by Fahui, producing an ear-piercing screech of metal against metal. Forced back several steps, the splashing sword qi riddled a nearby pillar with holes. Bathed in sweat, his internal organs burned as though on fire, and he could not help but cough up a mouthful of blood. Sizzle... Before the blood even touched the ground, it dissolved into a golden mist that merged with the haze drifting across the courtyard. Fahui raised his elegantly sculpted arms, sending fist after fist crashing into Li Xuanling's protective shield. Bolstered by that cool current, Li Xuanling's mind was crystal clear, no longer deceived by Fahui's spells. Preparing to ride the wind into the air, he thought to himself, *Though I cannot escape, taking the high ground might let me hold out a little longer...* To his dismay, the golden mist clung to his protective shield like maggots on bone. Li Xuanling felt his body grow unimaginably heavy, as though myriads of jin of cast iron hung from his feet. He had barely risen a foot off the ground before his ascent halted entirely. Seizing the opening, Fahui leaped into the air and struck him down with a palm. Crash! Li Xuanling was hurled battered and bruised into the temple wall. Fahui chuckled, stepping forward with a calm smile. "Once I beat you to death, I shall break through to Master, then seek out your father with his Heavy Sea Whale Jiaolong destiny and beat him to death as well—achieving Lianmin and proving the seat of Maha." "Proving the seat of Maha..." Having been knocked down, Li Xuanling felt his internal organs jolt painfully, his gathered dharmic powers scattered. He had been left with no strength to fight on, but hearing these words made him grind his teeth in fury. An inexplicable surge of strength rose within him. Sweeping his hand across the storage bag at his waist, he released five talismans. It was only because Li Xuanxuan drew talismans day and night that Li Xuanling carried so many. Two were at the peak of Embryonic Breathing, and three were at early Qi Refinement. They burst into flames, freezing rain, lightning, and poisonous mist, all detonating upon Fahui at once. Though Fahui had awakened past memories, most were fragmented. He possessed little actual combat experience, and even less against cultivators. Taken by surprise by the five talismans, he hastily raised a golden glow to shield himself. The two peak Embryonic Breathing talismans were easily blocked, but the three early Qi Refinement ones slammed squarely into him, exploding against the dharma body covered in golden patterns and forcing him a step back. Li Xuanling turned pale, shaken by the spell's shockwaves, and spat out blood once again. Fortunately, Fahui had stepped back. Li Xuanling rolled over, his face drained of color as he widened the distance between them. In this back-and-forth, he bought himself several dozen breaths of time. Brushing the dust from his body, Fahui stared straight at Li Xuanling and laughed. "You are indeed far stronger than those Daoists. Perhaps this is the difference between miscellaneous qi cultivators and Qi Refinement cultivators from my memories... Among us Shakya cultivators, a similar distinction exists. With just a brief clash, one can tell whether what one has attained is the orthodox dharma." Li Xuanling did not care in the slightest about whatever madness this monk was spouting. His mind raced frantically, intent only on stalling him as long as possible. He shouted, "I happen to know a little as well! The orthodox dharma of Shakya cultivators consists of lands of delight and worlds of ultimate bliss! As for a bloodthirsty butcher like you, it is certainly no orthodox dharma!" Sure enough, these words caused the monk to freeze for several breaths. He glared at Li Xuanling with a faint, chilling smile, forming an incantation gesture with his fingers as he said coldly, "You have met Murong Xia!" Without waiting for an answer, Fahui nodded to himself. The intricate golden patterns across his body grew darker and richer. Taking a single stride, he instantly crossed over a dozen feet and seized Li Xuanling by the throat, roaring in fury: "It is good that you have seen him! Let me ask you: why should men, women, young, old, wicked, and virtuous alike all enjoy bliss in his pure land?! The wicked deserve all manner of punishment, to die after suffering every torment! Only the virtuous are worthy of being consumed by us! Tell me, is that not so?! Is that not so?!" His eyes shone with blazing golden light, and his flesh radiated a bronze-yellow sheen. Dharmic power filled with destruction and an undercurrent of sealing surged between his palms. As Fahui spoke, golden runes emerged one after another, locking Li Xuanling tightly in place. Li Xuanling's face flushed crimson. Fortunately, as a Qi Refinement cultivator, he would not suffocate to death right away. He barely managed to open his mouth and sneered, "What fine words—'only the virtuous are worthy of being consumed by you.'" Fahui's fury raged like a tempest. The answer he received from Li Xuanling seemed utterly unbelievable to him. Gritting his teeth, he snarled, "You still do not know how to be grateful?!" With a sudden jerk, Fahui hurled him with all his might. Li Xuanling flew like a cannonball, slamming violently into the roof of the main hall. Already riddled with holes, the hall could not withstand the collateral damage of their clash and collapsed with a thunderous roar. Rumble— Ash-gray dust billowed skyward. Broken roof tiles and shattered timbers rained down like a storm as the hall, shrouded in gloom for so long, finally crumbled. Debris and ruined woodwork lay scattered everywhere. With countless bones shattered throughout his body, Li Xuanling lay sprawled like a heap of crushed flesh upon the steps before the hall. At the entrance, of the two dignified, solemn statues, one lay completely smashed across the ground, while the other had lost its arms and legs, leaving only a solitary head resting upright on the stone. Raindrops ran down the smooth stone face, falling drop by drop into a pool of pale red, bloody water. The horizontal plaque that had hung high above the entrance beneath a tattered rag finally plummeted, crashing onto the ground before him. The rag drifted away with the wind, revealing several large, gilded characters underneath. "Zhenhui Daoist Temple..." The gilded characters shone into his eyes like sunlight. A deep gash had torn across Li Xuanling's cheek, and from his leaking mouth formed a grotesque smile as he forced out a few ragged words: "A stick... of incense."