Chapter 66

"Today's cultivation of the heart ends here; Sister, you go ahead—I still have karmic ties here."

Chen Zhao breathed in and out, adopting the demeanor of a high cultivator.

Of course, ignore the spiritual markings on the Spirit Fish.

"Oh."

Li Zhiwei pretended not to see, preparing to leave.

Gurgling gurgling. TTks. tw, countless novel libraries, choose freely.

Bubbles rose continuously from the water.

The giant creature swam ashore!

She turned her head to glance at Chen Zhao, only to find his expression grave—he was not the one who acted.

Could this fish possibly pity the younger brother?

Suddenly.

The lake water rippled, then boiled in an instant.

Countless Spirit Fish rushed ashore in a frenzy, their mouths opening and closing with eerily synchronized frequency.

"Om."

It was unclear which fish spoke in human voice.

Then, from afar to near, all the fish tails ceased thrashing.

Their mouths gaped wide, speaking in unison.

"Om."

Immediately after, voices from within and beyond the county—men, women, young, old—blended together, following closely.

"Na Ma Mi Hong..."

The Six-Character Rebirth Mantra!

Chen Zhao frowned, suddenly feeling an inexplicable emotion surge in his heart.

As if forcing him to prostrate in worship.

This thought flashed for only an instant—he violently shook it off, surprise flashing in his eyes.

"Strange—I haven't read the Sutra for Guiding Souls, so why am I affected?"

Yet Li Zhiwei, who had read the Sutra for Guiding Souls, remained unharmed.

Oh, she's in the Foundation Establishment Stage.

Chen Zhao smirked, turning to look at the Spirit Fish, pondering silently.

The three conditions for ascending in daylight: burning incense, eating fish, reciting sutras—he had eaten only the fish.

The anomaly extended beyond the Water-Land Dharma Assembly—it encompassed every Spirit Fish in the county!

Such a massive commotion—could this tiny county truly harbor a treasure?

He pinched a Communication Talisman and informed his sect of the matter.

Alas, this place was farther than the Su Family—the Foundation Establishment Elder would still take considerable time to arrive.

Meanwhile, the number of people around grew steadily; in moments, a hundred or so mortals had surrounded them completely.

The landlady, the waiter, the constables—all among them, their Spirit Qi fluctuations now at Qi Refining Fourth Layer.

Each limped awkwardly, like walking corpses.

"Layperson, why not take refuge in the Buddha?"

All closed their eyes, clasped their hands, speaking in unison.

Their expressions were compassionate, yet they had already summoned hoes and steel blades...

Nearly a hundred mundane weapons crowded the sky, emitting piercing screeches.

"Noisy."

Li Zhiwei flicked her slender fingers—a flash of cold light vanished instantly.

In an instant.

A bitter wind howled, snowflakes drifted down; all who touched them turned to ice statues.

Ten li of lake water froze three feet deep, spreading to Luoyan Dock.

Lintai County had entered winter.

As the two prepared to leave, a figure in gray robes stepped through the snow—his face was strikingly familiar.

Behind him.

A faint, shadowy image of a Buddha could be seen.

An hour earlier, Tingxiang Water Pavilion.

The moment the bell rang, Chen Qingmeng could no longer hold back—he struck immediately.

Three long swords sliced across the water's surface, lunging straight at the gray-robed novice.

Yet.

Inside the elegant pavilion, prayer flags fluttered, revealing a beautiful face.

Dressed in a kasaya—it was Yan Xiaoqian.

She moved instantly, stepping without hesitation before the novice.

"Layperson, lay down your weapon and return to the right path."

The Dharma Treasure swords veered off course at once.

Chen Qingmeng gritted his teeth, eyes blazing with fury.

Just then.

Yan Xiaoqian stared blankly, mouth wide open to the sky, reciting the Sutra of Rebirth.

Around her, incantations echoed; Chen Qingmeng also swallowed the Spirit Fish, yet his spiritual awareness was far inferior to Chen Zhao's.

His mind lost its hold, and sudden, piercing headache split his skull.

He clapped his hands over his ears and collapsed to his knees.

But the young monk chanted a Buddhist mantra, pulled out a Demon-Subduing Pestle, and shoved it straight into Yan Xiaoqian's mouth!

A single tear slid from her eye.

Yet she had no choice but to open her mouth to its fullest, letting the Demon-Subduing Pestle lodge in her throat.

Like a fish on a grill.

A bronze sheen glowed from its tip, shooting straight into her dantian.

All her spiritual power rapidly disintegrated, transforming into wisps of smoke.

"This is true Incense Fire Qi."

The monk wore an expression of rapture, gently stroking the girl's long hair and inhaling deeply.

He did not crave her body's fragrance; instead, he greedily sucked in the smoke, his obsession laid bare.

"This man is surely the mastermind behind it all!"

Chen Qingmeng's eyes bulged with rage.

He turned to look—Jiang Yanqiu had watched the entire scene in silence, a smile lingering on his lips, as if stunned by the bell's sound.

You cowardly sycophant!

He cursed inwardly, then summoned a drop of his essence blood.

The water beneath him instantly boiled, as if recoiling from this technique.

Clang-clang-clang.

The precious blade drew itself.

It was a top-grade Purple Gold Ring-Head Saber.

"Go!"

Ignoring his unconscious state, he violently pushed his spiritual power.

The blade shattered the sound barrier; the sonic boom couldn't even keep up with its afterimage!

Yan Xiaoqian could react—but how could she match its speed?

Boom!

In an instant, half the monk's body vanished; the wall hadn't even touched the blade before it exploded outward.

One more slash, and he would have sent him straight to hell.

The monk could no longer hold on, collapsing to the ground.

Their cultivation levels differed greatly—if they clashed directly, how could he possibly match Chen Qingmeng?

The next moment.

Yan Xiaoqian twisted her slender waist, suddenly pulling him into her embrace.

"Jiang Daofriend, stop holding back—reveal your method to break the illusion now!"

Chen Qingmeng's face was frantic.

He rummaged through over a dozen Dharma Treasures on his person—but not one could awaken his partner.

His mind was already growing dim; in half a stick of incense, he too would collapse.

"I should've listened to Chen Zhao and waited for the sect to send reinforcements."

Enough.

The deed was done; he had no choice but to fight to the death.

The precious blade struck suddenly, veering sharply to narrowly miss Yan Xiaoqian.

The young monk saw there was no escape.

He raised one hand in prayer, closed his eyes, and felt the howling gale.

Suddenly—

A faint sting on his forehead.

He slowly opened his eyes—the blade had halted, one inch from his brow, its wind slicing out a bead of blood.

He wasn't dead?

Half-unconscious, Chen Qingmeng whirled around, glaring fiercely at Jiang Yanqiu.

Was this woman also controlled?

"Today, killing is forbidden. I'm in a good mood—I'll give the master a chance to live."

Jiang Yanqiu smirked, revealing two sharp canine teeth.

With light, lotus-like steps, she gave two gentle kicks to the unconscious Chen Qingmeng.

"The Sutra of Guiding Souls, in plain terms, uses Incense Fire Qi to accelerate cultivation. The mortals do gain cultivation—but over time, they lose their spiritual souls entirely, like Yan Xiaoqian, left entirely under your control."

"Unlike Evil Cultivators, this technique nourishes you in return, strengthening your Incense Fire Cultivation Method."

Upon hearing this, the gray-robed monk finally showed a flicker of surprise.

But then he smiled and shook his head, chuckling bitterly:

"Madam, you're as sharp as ice—Brother Monk admires you."

"Alas, Brother Monk does not know this technique. As for why I live? Perhaps… it's because you're in a good mood."

"I know you're not."

Jiang Yanqiu furrowed her delicate brows and sighed mournfully,

"Alas, the master has hit the nail on the head—what should this humble girl do?"

"Why not let this humble monk off the hook?" the novice monk couldn't help but rejoice.

And Jiang Yanqiu nodded happily in agreement.

"Perfect, perfect!"

"Though my thoughts have been guessed, I feel uneasy—but I do not kill monks, nor do I kill sect disciples."

The novice monk nodded vigorously.

But the next second.

She lowered her head and smiled, delicately pressing her palms together.

"But Master, since you've become a monk, you are no longer a sect disciple—and since you are a sect disciple, you are no longer a monk."

"So, please go in peace, Amitabha!"

The blade rose and fell, blood spattered the gray robe!