Chapter 10: Saints kneel! The river of time, reverse flow for my teacher!

Teacher...

This call was very light.

But it was like a heavy hammer, smashing the ten-million-year faith of Ling Shan to pieces.

Jieyin Saint also knelt.

His usual bitter melon face, as if mourning his parents, now wrinkled into a dried orange peel.

There was no hesitation.

There was no doubt.

In the very next second after Zhunti's knee touched the ground, the great leader of Xīfāng Jiào also knelt down.

His head hit the ground.

It made a muffled "dong" sound.

Da Lei Yin Si was silent, as if a huge tomb.

Rulai Buddha still maintained the posture of reaching out for help.

His intact left hand froze in midair, as if trying to grasp something, but only grasped a handful of embarrassment and absurdity.

His eyes were about to pop out.

That's a Saint!

That's a Primordial Luo Golden Immortal that has survived myriad kalpas, unstained by karma, who regards all beings as straw dogs!

How did they just kneel?

And they still call this Daoist "Teacher"?

Just who is this Daoist...?

The willow branch in Guanyin's hand had completely withered.

Manjushri and Samantabhadra buried their heads in their sleeves, wishing they could find a crack in the ground to crawl into and never come out.

The existence that even Saints must call "Teacher".

They were actually still thinking about how to suppress them?

What's the difference between this and courting death?

"Get up."

Bodhi didn't look at the Saints kneeling on the ground.

He simply uttered two words lightly.

Zhunti and Jieyin's bodies trembled, but they dared not move.

"Teacher, disciples did not know Your holy descent, we have committed many offenses, deserving of ten thousand deaths!"

Zhunti's voice was trembling.

Only those who have truly touched that level know just how terrifying this seemingly ordinary Daoist before them really is.

That is the embodiment of the Dao.

That is the lingering glow of Chaos.

In the past, in the Ziwei Palace, before Hongjun Daozu united with the Dao, he once obliquely remarked: "Within Chaos, there still lies great terror."

They had always thought it was just a legend.

Until that day, in the Deep Chaos, being taught by that seemingly ordinary bamboo broom, they were beaten like two grandsons.

"I order you to rise."

Bodhi's voice rose slightly.

With a hint of impatience.

"Don't embarrass yourself here."

You kneel to heaven, earth, and parents, but you are now Saints, representing the face of the Heavenly Dao, yet you kneel to me, a rustic Daoist—what nonsense is this?

Zhunti and Jieyin exchanged a glance.

Only then did they tremblingly rise to their feet.

The two lowered their hands, like two elementary-schoolers punished by the teacher to stand, honestly standing half a step behind Bodhi.

They didn't even dare to breathe.

"Um..."

Zhunti furtively glanced at the Six-Eared Macaque on the ground, then at the sweat-drenched Rulai Buddha, and spoke cautiously.

"Teacher, this..."

"What the heck is this?"

Bodhi interrupted him.

"You've taken in good disciples and done good deeds."

Bodhi pointed at Rulai Buddha.

"For a bit of incense and luck, you don't even care about face?"

"You find an impostor to take the master's place, and still kill to silence witnesses?"

"Is this the Buddhism you teach?"

Jieyin Saint's face twitched.

He turned his head and glared fiercely at Rulai Buddha.

The meaning in his gaze was clear: you wicked disciple, I'll deal with you later!

Rulai Buddha went limp and collapsed directly onto the lotus platform.

It's over.

This time it's really over.

Even his backers have defected; although the Three Realms are vast, there is no place for him to stand.

"All right, stop putting on a show for me."

Bodhi waved his hand.

He had no time to waste words with these two nominal disciples.

The important matter hasn't been done yet.

Bodhi turned around.

He faced the illusory western horizon.

There was nothing there.

Only drifting clouds and an eternal wind.

But in Bodhi's eyes,

there was a river.

An invisible, intangible river that spans past, present, and future, carrying the fates of countless living beings.

The River of Time.

"Wukong."

Bodhi softly muttered a sentence.

"As your master, I'll take you home now."

He stretched out both hands.

That pair of withered palms made a tearing motion in the void.

There was no fluctuation of magical power.

Nor any chanting of spells.

It was pure strength.

Rip—!!!

Heaven, split open.

Not the cloud layers dispersing.

It was the spatial barrier being forcibly torn open a huge gap.

A surge of gray river water, ancient, weathered, and reeking of decay, gushed out from the rift!

Rumble—!

The sound of the rushing river shook the entire Ling Shan, making it tremble.

That was the sound of time.

Each wave crest was the rise and fall of an era.

Each drop of water was the lifetime of countless living beings.

"The River of Time?!"

Zhunti exclaimed in shock.

"Master! No!"

Jieyin also panicked, forgetting fear, and rushed forward to dissuade.

"Master! To reverse time and resurrect the dead is a grave defiance of heaven!"

"The Heavenly Dao will not allow it!"

"If we forcibly intervene, we will surely incur heavenly punishment, and may even trigger infinite kalpas, reenacting the cycle of earth, water, fire, and wind!"

Reviving one person is not difficult.

Just check the death registers in the underworld and fetch a soul.

But Sun Wukong is different.

He was struck by the Tathagata until his divine soul and true spirit were utterly annihilated.

He has completely vanished from this world.

To revive him, we must forcibly pull him out from a past time node!

This amounts to altering established history.

This is provoking the bottom line of the Heavenly Dao!

"Heavenly punishment?"

Bodhi smiled.

He had his hands tucked in his sleeves, gazing at the surging River of Time, his eyes full of contempt.

"The Heavenly Dao is nothing."

"That old bastard Hongjun merging with the Heavenly Dao just shows his lack of ambition."

"I want to save my disciple—don't even mention the Heavenly Dao."

"Even if the Great Dao itself comes in person, it must make way for me!"

Just as his words fell,

Boom—crack—!!!

Above the Nine Heavens.

A thunderclap rang out.

That was not an ordinary thunder.

That was the roar of the firmament.

The sky, which had been torn apart, suddenly turned a bizarre deep violet.

A huge purple eye slowly opened within the Yúncéng.

It was the Eye of Heavenly Dao!

It was indifferent.

Heartless.

It gazed at the old Daoist below who attempted to subvert yin and yang.

It became angry.

Boom!

A purple bolt of thunder, like an apocalyptic spear, shot down from that eye!

Purple Sky Divine Thunder!

Primordial First Divine Thunder!

Below a Saint, touching it guarantees death!

Even a Saint would have to shed a layer of skin if struck.

"Master, be careful!"

Zhun Ti shouted, instinctively trying to summon the Seven Treasure Miracle Tree to help block.

But his action was still too slow.

Or rather, subconsciously he never dared to strike the Heavenly Dao.

That bolt of thunder was too fast.

Fast enough to surpass the limits of thought.

In an instant it reached Bodhi's crown.

It seemed about to blast this audacious madman into debris.

Bodhi lifted his head.

He stared at that world‑shattering thunder.

He opened his mouth.

He made an "ah" sound.

As if catching rain falling from the sky.

Glug—

The thunder fell into his mouth.

There was no explosion.

No fireworks.

That Purple Sky Divine Thunder, capable of destroying half of Xiniu Hezhou, was—just like that—swallowed by him.

Bodhi smacked his mouth repeatedly.

Something rolled in his throat.

He let out a big belch.

Hoo—

A wisp of purple smoke puffed out of his mouth.

"The taste is a bit bland,"

Bodhi commented.

"Compared with the Chaos Divine Thunder of old, this thing is no different from plain water,"

Deathly Silence.

Again, Deathly Silence.

Zhun Ti and Jie Yin's legs went weak, and they almost knelt again.

What the hell is this, a human's deed?

Swallowing Purple Sky Divine Thunder whole?

And still complaining the taste is bland?

The Eye of Heavenly Dao also seemed bewildered by the scene.

It lingered in the sky for a moment.

The purple light in its eye flickered erratically.

It seemed to be calculating whether to unleash an even harsher strike.

"Get lost."

Bodhi looked up and cursed the massive eye with a single word.

A wave of sound rolled.

Like an invisible slap, it struck that eye hard.

Crack!

The Yúncéng surrounding the Eye of Heavenly Dao shattered.

That eye, embodying supreme authority, unexpectedly showed a hint of human‑like... fear.

Then.

It closed.

The dark clouds dispersed.

The violet aura faded.

The sky cleared up again.

Heavenly Dao… backed down.

Bodhi withdrew his gaze and looked anew at the rushing river of time before him.

He rolled up his sleeves.

Revealing a thin, withered forearm.

"All right."

"No one will disturb us."

"Let's keep fishing."

Bodhi took a deep breath.

He plunged his hands into the murky river water!

Sizzle—

The river water boiled.

That was the temporal law corroding his flesh.

Every second, his hands endured the scouring of hundreds of millions of years.

Skin and flesh withered, then regenerated.

Bones stood stark, then new flesh grew.

The pain therein was enough to make any Golden Immortal suffer a mental breakdown.

But Bodhi didn't even furrow his brow.

His eyes stared fixedly at the endless darkness at the riverbed.

Among the flowing fragments of time.

Searching for that familiar figure.

Searching for that unruly monkey.

"Where are you…"

"Don't be afraid."

"Master has arrived."