Chapter 300: The Turning Point Arrives, the Fomen Comes

The royal palace of the Mo Ye Kingdom, Eastern Garden.

Autumn wind swept fallen leaves through the courtyard.

A young man in a plain white robe sat cross-legged beneath an ancient tree.

His face was handsome, his brow radiating an transcendent calm.

With each breath, spiritual energy from heaven and earth flowed into his body through mouth and nose, circulating through his meridians.

Su Chen sat beside a stone table, holding a cup of hot tea, his gaze fixed on the young man.

Six years had passed; the twelve-year-old boy of then had grown into an eighteen-year-old youth.

Over these six years, Su Chen had taught him no advanced cultivation art—only the most basic breathing technique, to guide him in sensing spiritual energy.

Yet Qiao Ling's cultivation talent was truly exceptional; even with the simplest breathing method, in six years he had reached the Qi Refining to Primordial Spirit realm.

Now he had surpassed the mortal lifespan limit, possessing a two-hundred-year life span.

Su Chen took a sip of tea.

The reincarnation of the Buddha—his foundation truly defied reason.

"Master." Qiao Ling rose, walked to Su Chen's side, and bowed respectfully.

Su Chen pointed to the stone stool opposite: "Sit."

Qiao Ling sat as instructed.

"For six years, you've spent every day handling state affairs, then coming here to meditate," Su Chen said, watching him. "You know full well: as long as you remain Crown Prince of Mo Ye, you cannot leave."

Qiao Ling nodded; he was a man of deep emotion.

Qiao Hui placed great hopes on him; the people of Mo Ye looked to him to become a wise ruler.

If he simply walked away, Qiao Hui would collapse, and Mo Ye would descend into chaos.

This was his karmic bond—and his chain.

"Master once said: follow Heaven's will, do not be bound by the heart," Qiao Ling lifted his head. "Disciple waits for a turning point."

At that moment, hurried footsteps shattered the stillness of the Eastern Garden.

An old eunuch, drenched in sweat, ran into the courtyard, his face beaming with ecstatic joy.

"Your Highness, the Crown Prince!"

Qiao Ling rose: "What's the emergency?"

"The Empress is in labor! His Majesty requests your presence!" The eunuch's voice trembled with excitement.

Qiao Ling froze for a moment.

Six years ago, his mother had been in poor health.

Later, Su Chen had healed her.

At the end of last year, the Empress became pregnant again.

Today, the time had come.

Qiao Ling said nothing, turned, and strode toward the Empress's chambers.

Su Chen sat behind the stone table, lifted his teacup, took a small sip, and smiled faintly.

The turning point had finally arrived.

Outside the Empress's chambers, Qiao Hui paced anxiously.

Just as Qiao Ling arrived, a clear, loud infant's cry echoed from within.

The cry was strong, brimming with vitality.

At that moment, the midwife emerged to announce: "Congratulations, Your Majesty! The Empress has given you another prince!"

Qiao Hui burst into laughter, gripping his son's shoulder: "Ling! Your mother has given you a younger brother!"

Qiao Ling looked at the wrinkles around his father's eyes, then gazed past him toward the half-open door of the chamber.

Qiao Ling stood still, listening to the cry, and exhaled slowly.

He felt the weight that had pressed on his shoulders for eighteen years vanish all at once.

Mo Ye now had a new heir.

His father and mother now had a new hope.

He was no longer Mo Ye's sole hope.

"Father," Qiao Ling stepped back, lifted his robe, knelt, and bowed his head deeply to the ground.

Qiao Hui stared, stunned: "Ling, what are you doing?"

Qiao Ling raised his head, gazing at his father.

"Your son congratulates Your Majesty and Your Majesty's Empress."

Qiao Hui looked at Qiao Ling's resolute expression—and understood.

…

Half an hour later, Qiao Ling returned to the Eastern Garden.

He did not sit; he walked straight to Su Chen, knelt, and bowed three deep, reverent bows.

"Master," Qiao Ling's voice was calm and firm. "Disciple's earthly ties are now severed. I have decided: in one year, once my younger brother is safely grown, I will leave with you to pursue my own Dao."

Su Chen looked at the kneeling youth and nodded in satisfaction.

"Rise. Since you've made your decision, follow your heart—I will not interfere."

Qiao Ling rose, bowed respectfully, and left the small courtyard.

Meanwhile, in a small nation beyond Mo Ye on the Southern Chan Continent:

The sky was choked with dark clouds, thunder rolling.

Several faint golden lights darted swiftly above the clouds.

Leading them were two monks clad in saffron robes.

The one on the left was tall and muscular, his face stern; a golden dragon coiled around his shoulder.

The one on the right had lowered eyes, clutching a string of prayer beads; seated upon a white-browed, glaring tiger.

They were none other than the Arhats of the Buddha's Eighteen, the Dragon Subduer and the Tiger Tamer.

Since receiving Maitreya's decree, they had spent six years searching the Southern Chan Continent for the Buddha's reincarnation.

During this time, they had attempted to use Buddhist divine powers to sense the Buddha's Dharma Fruit—but found nothing, leading them to doubt whether the Buddha Ran Deng had made a mistake.

Yet they knew the Buddha Ran Deng's powers could not be mistaken.

So they decided: if divine powers could not find him, they would find him by human means.

Over these six years, they had descended divine seeds, sending countless Buddhist disciples to visit seventy-three nations and investigate over thirty thousand children hailed as "child prodigies."

All had been in vain.

Some children indeed possessed extraordinary talent—but not a trace of the World-Honored One's Dharma Fruit remained upon them.

"Brother Dragon Subduer," the Tiger Tamer opened his eyes. "This is the last nation in the southwest."

The Dragon Subduer looked down at the land below.

Ahead lay the territory of Mo Ye.

"Mo Ye is weak, its population barely a million," the Dragon Subduer said, voice low. "If we find nothing here, we must return to the World-Honored One and beg forgiveness."

The Tiger Tamer moved a bead on his rosary.

"My disciples have sent word," he said. "The Crown Prince of Mo Ye is named Qiao Ling. At his birth, golden light rained upon the capital, lasting three hours. He spoke at one year old, learned characters at two. By a few years old, he could debate scripture with old monks—his understanding of the Dharma surpassed theirs, leaving them speechless."

The Dragon Subduer whirled, eyes sharp.

"Golden light at birth? Could debate scripture at a few years old?"

"Precisely," the Tiger Tamer nodded. "And over these six years, this boy has lived in seclusion, taking as his master an unknown wandering Daoist."

The golden dragon on the Dragon Subduer's shoulder let out a low hum.

"Birth omen, innate wisdom," the Dragon Subduer clenched his fist. "Only the World-Honored One's reincarnation could manifest such signs!"

"But why can neither of us divine his heavenly destiny?" the Tiger Tamer asked.

"That wandering Daoist!" the Dragon Subduer sneered. "He must be secretly obstructing, using tricks to conceal the World-Honored One's heavenly fate—trying to prevent the World-Honored One's return!"

"Go!" The Dragon Subduer slapped the dragon's head. "To Mo Ye's capital! If he is truly the World-Honored One's reincarnation, we must bring him back to Lingshan today!"

Several golden lights tore through the clouds, their fierce aura racing toward Yunze City.

In the Eastern Garden, a breeze stirred; yellow leaves spiraled down from the branches.

Su Chen lifted his head, gazing toward the sky beyond Yunze City.

He sensed several powerful energies rapidly approaching.

Unmistakable Buddhist magic power, radiating an aloof, oppressive pressure.

Two of these energies had already reached the level of Emperor Taiyi Jin Jin Xian.

"So the Buddhist sect has finally found this place," Su Chen sighed softly, rising to find Qiao Ling.