Chapter 99

Under the morning light, the forest of pagodas was deep and silent; morning dew dampened the nearby weeds and the stone-carved statues—Mahasattvas, Garudas, lotus sutras—ancient and fragmented under the sun’s glow, yet possessing a solemn beauty. But Yan Shu and the others detected no clues…

Ning Qingchen sighed slightly: “Since the wolf demon guards a subduing artifact, other demon generals must also hold clues. Earlier, I saw General Liu—his root in the fissure seemed odd. Why don’t we set this aside for now and first eliminate the willow demon, retrieve the subduing artifact it guards?”

Upon hearing they were to draw swords and slay demons, Yan Shu’s eyes instantly lit up.

“Ning sister is right—exterminate demons thoroughly! Even if we don’t find other subduing artifacts, killing one of the blood demons’ allies is still worthwhile!”

Qian Chen sighed helplessly: “You’ve got some patience, I’ll give you that.” He raised his hand, revealing the glazed tile: “I found this glazed tile among the ruins—it matches the form of a former pagoda’s remnants. With so many broken bricks and tiles here, glazed ones are exceedingly rare. Logically, at least one glazed pagoda should have stood in this pagoda forest; there shouldn’t be so few fragments left.”

Ning Qingchen’s eyes brightened: “You mean… the glazed pagoda’s fragments were deliberately removed?”

“Whatever the demons deliberately concealed must be the clue we seek.”

Ning Qingchen frowned: “But we don’t know where the glazed pagoda stood, nor what it originally looked like… we can’t reconstruct it. Any clues hidden on the original pagoda were surely destroyed by the demons.”

Yan Shu’s face darkened as he slammed a fist hard against the courtyard wall: “That jackal demon knew this pagoda was the clue—and never mentioned it.”

Zhiquiu whispered to comfort him; after all, the jackal demon was cunning. If it were Qian Chen, he might have searched its soul. But Yan Shu, a righteous sword immortal, was unskilled in such matters—failing to swiftly kill the demon after it repeatedly lured them into traps would only complicate things further.

Qian Chen circled the pagoda ruins twice, then murmured: “Buddhist pagodas are also called stupas, following fixed conventions—typically thirteen-tiered, nine-tiered, seven-tiered, five-tiered, or three-tiered. Based on the remaining foundations here, none of these pagodas exceeded nine tiers.”

“Moreover, since the glazed tiles are in the form of roof finials, they indicate overhanging eaves—so these cannot be dome-style stupas, only pavilion-style or closely-eaved pagodas. Given the scale of this temple, its pagoda forest would typically consist of solid-core pagodas. Pavilion-style pagodas, with eaves, beams, pillars, walls, and windows on every level, plus internal brick staircases leading to each floor, are far more complex and thus spaced farther apart. Here, the pagodas are densely packed—undoubtedly closely-eaved pagodas.”

“As for height… if the glazed pagoda concealed the demon-subduing treasure left by the Bagu Monk, it must be the ancestral pagoda. All later pagodas should not surpass it in form. Thus, the glazed pagoda must be the tallest in this forest, with the most solid foundation.” Qian Chen walked to the southeast corner’s foundation.

“The pagoda forest lies close to the Mahavira Hall… devout Buddhist disciples would never allow pagodas to tower above the Mahavira Hall.”

“Pagoda forests are usually for monk burial stupa. Given the Bagu Monk’s cultivation and status, his pagoda should rank only one level below those honoring arhats and bodhisattvas who achieved the Golden Body…” Qian Chen stepped before the foundation and extended a finger.

A chill descended upon the foundation, freezing the surrounding moisture into a silver-white ice pillar. Carved upon it were lotus-shaped Sumeru pedestals, with false arched doors on all four sides, each housing lifelike, dignified, benevolent Buddha statues. Ning Qingchen bowed slightly, one palm raised before her chest in reverence.

Yan Shu, however, paid no mind, laughing heartily: “Younger brother, you’re a disciple of the Three Pure Ones—why are you carving Buddha statues? Quick—replace them with ancestral images!”

“Master, you’re the one desecrating the ancestors!” Qian Chen sighed helplessly. “Carving Daoist patriarchs on Buddhist pagodas—who could think of such a thing?”

“Besides, we’re taking something belonging to the Bagu Monk. A little respect is due.”

The Daoist true transmission didn’t despise Buddhism as fiercely as it did demonic sects—after all, both were orthodox paths, with some surface courtesy… though in Northern Wei, the Zhengyi Sect and Buddhists nearly beat each other’s brains out. Yet in daily encounters, weren’t they still smiling, benevolent-faced?

Seeing Ning Qingchen bow to the Buddha, Qian Chen suddenly remembered—she too was from Northern Wei, likely influenced by Buddhist customs.

Among Daoist sects, the Yuanshi Dao held the most complex attitude toward Buddhism: actively poaching Buddhist disciples, even learning from them and absorbing many Buddhist essences, yet harboring underlying hostility… In Great Jin, under Daoist control, Buddhism faced not outright persecution but constant subtle suppression.

As a result, Buddhist temples were rare in Great Jin; Qian Chen had never seen one, nor even heard of any Buddhist cultivators passing through.

The Shangdao Sect? Always indifferent—none of my business.

Yet they spread the “Supreme Dao Converts the Buddha” sutra everywhere, and the story was credible—many great transcendent witnesses had left lineages in the Central Land. Thus, even Buddhist Dharma-body masters, upon hearing it, could only grit their teeth and accept it.

Shangdao naturally trod on Buddhism… while Lingbao Dao was the most hostile of the Three Pure Ones. Overseas Buddhism, forced to accept demonic kings as disciples, was nearly becoming a demonic Buddhist sect—all due to Lingbao Dao’s scheming. Yan Shu’s attitude, then, was unsurprising.

Soon, the ice pagoda grew to its first eave, its carved bracket sets exquisite, its outline tall and graceful.

Nine tiers of eaves rose step by step until the summit… Qian Chen casually formed an ice soul pearl, adorning the pagoda’s peak. He adjusted the ice layer’s height, guided by a faint spiritual intuition, until the pagoda settled at the perfect height.

At that moment, the crowd saw a strange radiance flash across the pearl atop the pagoda—it came alive, its surface gilded with flowing light.

The flowing radiance was serene and balanced, steeped in Zen, glowing like luminous lapis lazuli upon the ice pearl.

Qian Chen stared longer, growing increasingly familiar—this thing resembled his own body so closely… then he erupted in fury: “You Buddhist sects—also coveting me?”

“Master, how did you know the summit holds the Wisdom Pearl!” Ning Qingchen clapped her hands and smiled. “Indeed—the demon-subduing golden needle is here.”

“Wisdom Pearl?” Qian Chen was unfamiliar with this world’s Buddhism—he hadn’t copied anything from his past life.

“Yes! Such pearls in Buddhism are called Wisdom Pearls, Mani Pearls, Prajna Pearls—meaning wisdom that comprehends all, truly perceiving the essence of all things and phenomena…”

Qian Chen’s face broke into a smug smile: “So the bald monks have taste after all!” He nodded smugly: “Indeed, this pearl can sever all delusions—it possesses wisdom that penetrates the source.”

“Legend says the Buddha praised the Supreme Dao Ancestor with these words, hence comparing wisdom to the spirit pearl severed by the Supreme Dao Ancestor,” Ning Qingchen added with a smile.

Qian Chen’s smug expression froze instantly.

Yan Shu chuckled behind him: “Buddhism is Dao. Without the Supreme Dao Ancestor’s enlightenment, where would Buddhism’s heretical sect come from? Even the Buddha acknowledged this—when the Supreme Dao Ancestor merged with the Dao, the Buddha paid homage as a disciple, borrowing the Supreme Dao Ancestor’s dust pearl to praise his wisdom, preaching the Dharma he’d heard from the Ancestor, thus founding Buddhism and becoming its patriarch.”

“Yet now, the Buddha’s disciples dare not even mention it!”

“Master Yan, the Buddha is also an awakened being—worthy of respect,” Ning Qingchen softly advised.

Qian Chen, expressionless, cut them off: “Enough. First, retrieve the demon-subduing golden needle!”

Ning Qingchen bowed again to the pagoda, then stepped forward to draw the Wisdom Pearl—yet the moment it left the pagoda, the flowing light vanished, leaving only an ordinary ice soul pearl.

Seeing this, Ning Qingchen had no choice but to say to the pagoda: “Forgive me.”

She then lightly tapped her toe, not using the eaves for support, and darted nimbly to the summit. Carefully, she hovered in midair, untouching the pagoda, extending her hand toward the spiritual light within the ice pearl.

But as she reached out, the light was unreachable—untouchable.

As if an illusion…

Ning Qingchen descended, whispering: “There’s a restriction—can’t touch the spiritual light.”

Zhiquiu frowned: “Could it require Buddhist devotional power? Should we find a monk?”

Ning Qingchen shook her head: “Though I can’t touch the light, I sense the Bagu Monk’s devotional force upon it—upright, radiant, impartial, admirable. He doesn’t seem the type to harbor sectarian prejudice.” Zhiquiu scratched his head: “This restriction is invisible, intangible… no way to even begin breaking it.”

“Since it’s called the Wisdom Pearl, only wisdom can comprehend its mystery,” Qian Chen’s lips curled slightly. Learning from past mistakes, this time his smugness was barely noticeable.

Only Ning Qingchen and Yan Shu noticed. Zhiquiu, the oblivious one, remained clueless.

“Then let’s see whose wisdom is greater,” Ning Qingchen lifted her chin slightly. Though her tone held challenge, it carried only charm, not arrogance.

The group squatted beside the pagoda, lost in thought.

“Got it!” Yan Shu suddenly recalled Qian Chen hiding his ice soul elixir in moonlight—how similar to this! He laughed: “The demon-subduing golden needle must be hidden in sunlight… forged from solar fire, formless and intangible…”

Yan Shu reached out, using qi-gathering techniques to gather the surrounding solar fire.

Long moments passed… his hands remained empty. He chuckled awkwardly, then squatted back down.

Qian Chen sighed: “Master Yan, I hid my elixir in moonlight as a temporary trick. Here, countless days and nights have passed—if it were hidden in sunlight, wouldn’t it reveal itself at night when the sun vanished?”

Yan Shu insisted: “That’s just your cultivation being insufficient. Perhaps the Bagu Monk had the power to hide it within sunlight and moonlight—so long as light exists, it won’t manifest!”

Ning Qingchen couldn’t help but say: “Master’s words make sense!” Then she clapped her hand—green gauze rose, blotting out all sunlight and moonlight, plunging the Lanruo Temple into utter darkness.

In the blackness, a divine light suddenly flared. Ning Qingchen was about to rejoice—when Qian Chen said: “Wait… that’s my 24K gold-plated dog eyes.”

Qian Chen’s eyes glowed with intense spiritual power, revealing his high spiritual refinement. He spoke expressionlessly: “Ning sister, don’t mistake my eyes for a subduing artifact and dig them out!”

“Qian senior brother… close your eyes,” Ning Qingchen snapped, exasperated.

“Fine.” Qian Chen closed his eyes—immediately, darkness swallowed everything again.

Long silence. Then Zhiquiu’s weak voice: “I… can I open my eyes now?”

Ning Qingchen silently withdrew the gauze. The Lanruo Temple returned to light. The group remained squatting beneath the pagoda. After Zhiquiu also tried invoking the Profound Heaven Ancestor for answers—without success—the situation stalled. Qian Chen stared calmly at Ning Qingchen; her eyes, devoid of expression, stirred her inner frustration. She lifted her chin: “Master? Any ideas?”

Qian Chen nodded slightly: “If you seek me through form or sound, you walk a deviant path—you cannot see the Tathagata!”

“And?”

Ning Qingchen sensed danger—this verse sounded profoundly right. She felt tense: eager, yet resentful.

“Thus, use your heart!” Qian Chen closed his eyes and reached out casually.

In his palm, a golden needle appeared out of nowhere—thin as an eyebrow, five or six fen long, as if forged from condensed sunlight.