Chapter 726: Cultivation Reaches the Ninth Realm: Xuan Dan — The Thousand-Year Buddha Son (4k, Requesting Monthly Support)

【Inside the Peach Blossom Spring.】

【On the peach tree marked with days, another 180 sword cuts had been carved.】

【A year had passed in this fleeting life, yet no seasonal change occurred here.】

【Only a single setting sun hung forever atop the distant mountains.】

【The white-robed boy, his trousers rolled high, stood in the shallow pond; suddenly he bent down, plunged his hand in, and when he rose, two silver fish wriggled in his palm, their scales catching fragmented glimmers of light.】

【“Boy, today we’re in for a feast.” He shook the silver-scaled fish, laughter spilling over his eyes. “The fish and birds in Master Three’s Dream of Yellow Millet are hard to catch—use your cultivation and they slip right through your fingers.”】

【Blue smoke curled from burning peach wood as the boy used his sword to fillet the fish and thread them onto branches. Flames licked the silver scales until they turned golden; suddenly he clapped rhythmically and sang: “White egrets fly before West Crag Mountain, peach blossoms drift on water where mandarin fish grow fat…”】

【“In today’s world, to sit and eat fish meat in leisure is already extraordinary.”】

【The Second Master saw you still seated quietly on the pavilion in the pond’s center, ignoring him, and did not grow angry.】

【His gaze fell upon the true qi swirling around you—three hundred days of relentless cultivation had turned your dantian’s qi sea into a vast expanse of emerald waves.】

【The spiritual energy here was three times denser than in Bianjing’s imperial palace, and with the medicinal power still active in your body, your cultivation progressed tenfold.】

【On the path of cultivation, from Viewing the Sea to the Ninth Realm’s Xuan Dan, how many brilliant talents spent their entire lives trapped here, gazing at the Heavenly Gate but never entering.】

【The Viewing the Sea realm requires condensing all true yuan into tides, gathering them into a boundless sea within the dantian.】

【The mediocre may never glimpse the ocean in their lifetime; even the most gifted require decades to stir the tides.】

【The Second Master recalled that his own breakthrough to Xuan Dan had taken three or four years.】

【Moreover, you not only cultivated the martial path but also the Primordial Spirit—likewise, you were but one step away from becoming a Yang Shen.】

【No wonder the Master once said, “For true cultivation geniuses, the words ‘cultivation’ are as simple as eating and drinking.”】

【“Realm thresholds are merely obstacles for ordinary mortals—they mean nothing to them.”】

【As the Second Master pondered, he suddenly saw wind and clouds shift violently atop the pavilion.】

【The boy’s sleeves flared wildly, as if he had become a vortex of the Peach Blossom Spring; ten thousand yuan energies surged like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, all pouring into his body. His slender frame now resembled an inverted chaotic funnel, swallowing spiritual energy without ever being full.】

【Most astonishingly, despite this massive intake, the boy’s aura grew even more unfathomable, not the slightest bit sluggish.】

【Vast yuan energy entered his body like mud sinking into the sea—vanished without trace—yet spiritual energy from all directions continued rushing in, stirring visible tides of spiritual energy across the Peach Blossom Spring.】

【The Second Master clapped his hands and stood up, puzzled: Xie Guan’s cultivation progress should have long since allowed his Primordial Spirit to become Yang Shen.】

【Yet today, it was the martial path that coalesced into Xuan Dan.】

【Suddenly, golden light pierced through the boy’s dantian, like the rising sun.】

【This was the sign of the martial path’s supreme realm—Xuan Dan—taking shape. Warriors of this realm approach immortality: ordinary iron striking their skin rings with golden chimes; ordinary blades cannot scratch them, and even magical arts cannot shake them.】

【Vast amounts of true yuan compressed and collapsed until finally condensing into a single primordial golden elixir—this was Xuan Dan.】

【Once Xuan Dan formed, the warrior’s body spontaneously generated transformation: qi cycled endlessly, as if hidden spiritual veins resided within, providing inexhaustible true qi.】

【Xuan Dan could transform endlessly: it could solidify into armor for defense, or become weapons for offense, regenerating severed limbs with ease, even creating flesh from bone.】

【Unless decapitated, it was nearly impossible to kill utterly.】

【Martial warriors of the Ninth Realm were revered by the world as “Martial Gods.”】

【The boy let out a clear cry that shook the entire Peach Blossom Spring.】

【His upper garments shattered, revealing skin like polished jade. On his left shoulder sat a golden Buddha silhouette, chanting sutras; on his right shoulder coiled a pitch-black demonic spear pattern, its demonic aura coalescing behind him into a grotesque demon face. Buddha light and demonic flame intertwined, neither invading the other, yet gradually merging.】

【The Second Master chuckled. “Interesting—Vajra Immortal Body paired with Xuan Tai Demonic Force. Such mutually incompatible arts you’ve fused—no wonder your progress is so swift.”】

【The boy’s gaze gradually cleared, the mystic aura receding from his body.】

【Now, upon closer inspection, his entire skin glowed like lamb’s-fat jade, his stature had grown over three inches taller, and within his acupoints, profound changes had occurred—six new acupoints spontaneously formed on his arms and lower abdomen.】

【After coalescing Xuan Dan, your body automatically adjusts to its optimal state, harmonized with your true qi.】

【Seeing your eager gaze, the Second Master kicked a peach branch at his feet.】

【“Try again?”】

【You had the same thought—you leapt lightly and stood in midair as if on solid ground, your meridians surging like rivers, brimming with inexhaustible true qi.】

【Three dark-magic spears materialized behind you, their shafts entwined with crimson demonic runes. You flicked your fingers—the spears pierced the air with the wailing cries of tormented ghosts.】

【You followed close behind, your body enveloped in glassy Buddha light; as you clasped your hands and dove downward, a three-zhang-tall Liuli Buddha appeared in midair. The Buddha’s palm merged seamlessly with your motion, crashing down with the force to crush mountains. Below, the peach grove bent low, petals shattered into dust by the airwave.】

【The white-robed boy did not retreat—he advanced. His peach branch spun, trapping five sword intentions, twisting the demonic spears into shards. A brilliant blade of light surged upward, slicing through the Buddha’s shadow to reveal a sliver of sky.】

【The white-robed boy drew his sword and rose.】

【One stood in the air, Buddha palm descending; the other, swordlight ascending.】

【Finally, the great Buddha dissolved…】

【A white-robed figure descended slowly, the peach branch in his hand broken into two pieces.】

【The Second Master smiled faintly. “Not eating fish?”】

【Your figure reformed nearby, muttering, “Cultivation!”】

【A year has passed; four years remain.】

【You must ascend to Yang Shen and coalesce your Lifesource.】

～

～

On the road south of Bianjing, five figures trampled morning dew as they advanced.

They were only fifty li from Bianjing.

Leading the way, a white horse like snow carried a white-robed monk whose face was as flawless as a jade crown, his wide sleeves fluttering like clouds in the wind.

A fat monk held the reins, sweat glistening on his precept scars like oil, drenched in perspiration, his massive belly exposed.

A burly monk bore a sutra banner; its iron shaft pressed the road’s stone slabs slightly downward.

The slender monk at the front carried a broadsword, its hilt wrapped in faded bloodstained cloth.

These were the four monks.

At the rear, a gray-robed elder monk walked with steady steps—each footfall left a lingering afterimage—it was the famed Lotus Pond Master.

Though the group moved slowly, they covered three to four hundred li per day.

Lotus Pond walked last, yet remained silent.

Suddenly!

The white-robed monk on the white horse reined in his steed.

The group halted.

“Whoa, disciples, look up at the sky.”

Through a rift in the clouds, four Heavenly Gates stood Weiran —steps of Liuli , jeweled curtains hanging, within them faint chants of sutras intertwined with Daoic resonance.

The slender monk holding the broadsword’s eyes flashed with fierce light.

“Master, these are the Heavenly Gates recorded in Buddhist scriptures—three thousand years ago, our Buddha sect faded, while Daoists, Demons, and Empress Qianyuan ascended.”

“Now, finally, it is our turn. This lifetime must be the great flourishing of the Buddha sect.”

The fat monk who held the reins collapsed to the ground, his robe caked in dust: “Brother, you’re mad!”

“Ascension—look, only four Heavenly Gates. That means only four slots. How many are there in the world? The Great Qi Academy, the Everlasting Heaven Demon Sect, the Three True Ones, and even the Master watches closely—how could it ever fall to our Buddhist sect?”

The broadsword monk glared fiercely at the fat monk. “Then what do you suggest?”

The fat monk’s face tightened; he swallowed hard and took half a step back.

“Brother, let’s turn back!”

The broadsword monk drew his blade. “Say that again, and I’ll cut you down.”

The fat monk opened his mouth to speak—

The burly monk carrying the banner interjected: “Big Brother, Second Brother, stop quarreling!”

“We came this far precisely for this.”

“We can’t turn back now, at the critical moment.”

The fat monk snapped, “How many experts are there? All ten great sects have come. Can four of us handle it?”

“Not even counting the central plains’ masters—the Academy’s scholars, the Demon Master—we’ve fought them before.”

“Big Brother, you couldn’t even fight back.”

The broadsword monk flew into a rage, raising his blade to strike the fat monk.

The monk on the white horse spoke: “Brothers, do not break the precept against killing.”

The burly monk stepped between them. “Big Brother, harmony is paramount.”

Seeing both sides supporting him, the fat monk’s face brightened. “Not to mention the Demon Master, or that Land Dragon—we’ve fought them too. Almost lost our Master.”

“Big Brother, can you beat them?”

The broadsword monk’s eyes glinted with malice, but he said nothing.

The fat monk declared decisively: “So let’s turn back. Why wade into this mess?”

“Back to my temple—eat well, drink well—isn’t that better?”

“Dying for nothing is too foolish.”

The fat monk looked at the monk on the white horse. “Master, if you insist on going, let me return to the southern Buddhist realm.”

The monk on the white horse hesitated, his brow furrowed.

The broadsword monk snorted, drawing his blade. “If they can’t ascend, why can’t we?”

The fat monk wept bitterly: “Master, I have an eighty-year-old mother at home, a newlywed wife I left behind—I still have worldly ties—I simply cannot go!”

The burly monk held the furious broadsword monk with his left arm and dragged the wailing fat monk with his right; the copper bells on his banner clanged wildly.

He helplessly turned to the white-robed monk: “Master, what do you think…”

Behind them, the Lotus Pond Master remained as if he heard nothing.

“Ah—”

The white-robed monk was tugged by several men, staggered, and finally tumbled from his white horse to the ground.

Amid swirling dust, the broadsword monk seized the front of his robe and pressed the scabbard against his throat: “Will you go or not? If you don’t nod today, don’t blame me for breaking our master-disciple bond!”

The fat monk clung to the white-robed monk’s thigh: “Master, you must not go!”

The burly monk wrapped his arms around the broadsword monk: “Big brother, how can you raise your hand against our master?”

Someone pulled at the fat monk: “Second brother, let’s discuss this again… what exactly is going on? Please get up and speak.”

The white-robed monk’s robes were disheveled, his fair face flushed, his brow increasingly furrowed with sorrow.

Suddenly, a Buddhist chant echoed.

“Amitabha Buddha.”

Master Lianchi’s voice rang like a morning bell in an ancient temple.

All were struck as by lightning, frozen in place.

“Venerable, how many li have we traveled from the Southern Buddhist lands?”

The white-robed monk hurriedly straightened his robes and clasped his hands: “Revered uncle, we have traveled fourteen thousand li.”

Master Lianchi asked again, “And how many li have you traveled alone, Venerable?”

The white-robed monk counted on his fingers in silence, then his face darkened with shock: “I have already traveled one hundred and three thousand li.”

He himself froze in astonishment!

Then he stared fixedly at the four brilliant heavenly gates above.

The white-robed monk’s eyes were clouded with confusion: “The heavenly gates have opened…”

Master Lianchi spoke a single Buddhist phrase: “All forms are illusory. If you see all forms as non-forms, you see the Tathagata.”

The white-robed monk trembled violently, murmuring to himself: “See the Tathagata?… See the Tathagata.”

“One hundred and three thousand li…”

The white-robed monk suddenly sat cross-legged, fingers pinching a flower, smiling.

“One lamp transmits to many lamps, until ten thousand lamps shine bright.”

The three disciples had not yet recovered their wits when their bodies dissolved into three streaks of light.

The broadsword monk’s ferocity, the fat monk’s worldliness, the burly monk’s gentleness—all now merged like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea. So too did the white horse, which coalesced above the white-robed monk’s head into a blooming lotus.

The white-robed monk’s aura surged abruptly, revealing a realm and Zen essence surpassing the Nine Martial Realms and even the Primordial Spirit and Yang Spirit.

The white-robed monk rose, his expression solemn, like a Buddha walking the mortal world. He clasped his hands and bowed respectfully to Lianchi.

“Thank you, Uncle, for your protection along the way, and for awakening me at this crucial moment.”

Lianchi smiled: “Venerable, your ten-year journey of one hundred thousand li was not in vain. Today, you have subdued the Four Appearances, clarified your mind and seen your nature, attained the Third Fruit of the Buddhist Path—Anagami—freeing yourself from the cravings, anger, and delusions of the Desire Realm, and now you have realized your fruit.”

This white-robed monk was Kongkong, the Buddha’s Son of the Eastern Holy Sect, hailed as a once-in-a-millennium prodigy.

At seventeen, he had already reached the Ninth Martial Realm, forged the Luminous Brahma Golden Body, and elevated his Primordial Spirit to the Yang Spirit stage—only awaiting the destined opportunity to crystallize his true essence.

Kongkong had manifested four external appearances: the white horse, the broadsword monk, the fat monk, and the burly monk.

Kongkong’s clear gaze turned to the horizon: “The Four Fruits of Buddhism: First Fruit, eradicates views of delusion; Second Fruit, eradicates thoughts of delusion; Third Fruit, frees one from the cravings, anger, and delusions of the Desire Realm.”

“The Fourth Fruit, Arhat, completely liberates one from the cycle of birth and death, attaining Nirvana.”

“Our Eastern Holy Sect has had dozens of great Zen masters across a hundred generations, all with the Third Fruit—but never one with the Fourth.”

Lianchi gazed at the four gates in the sky.

“Venerable, is this the convergence of karmic conditions?”

Kongkong clasped his hands, his posture solemn: “Namo Amitabha Buddha. I must take it.”

At that moment,

Two figures stepped forward on the gentle breeze, one ahead of the other, their steps steady.

“Congratulations, Venerable, on ascending to the ranks of the world’s Grand Masters.”

The speaker had a refined, scholarly face—it was the Demon Master Xu Jiangxian. Behind him walked a middle-aged man of ordinary bearing: “Land Dragon” Du Gu Sheng.

Lianchi and the Buddha’s Son remained calm, as if they had long known of their arrival.

In fact!

The Demon Master and Du Gu Sheng had been here for a long time—not only had they not disturbed him, they had subtly guarded the Buddha’s Son, preventing outsiders from interrupting.

Lianchi clasped his hands and nodded slightly: “We meet again, Master Xu, Master Du Gu.”

“Master Lianchi,” replied the Demon Master Xu Jiangxian with a gentle smile.

Kongkong regarded the two Grand Masters with curiosity—truly, they were both mentor and friend.

Du Gu Sheng looked slightly uneasy, a flicker of awkwardness crossing his rugged face. He rubbed the back of his head and gave a forced laugh, unsure how to respond.

After all, he had been born in the Buddhist fold, then left it—facing the Great Abbot and the Buddha’s Son of the Eastern Holy Sect, he felt deeply embarrassed.

The Demon Master cut straight to the point, smiling: “I came here specifically to seek you two—for the purpose of Ascension.”

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(End of Chapter)