Chapter 958

The karmic tie with the Great Joyous King Buddha—Wei Yuan knew without thinking he could never reveal it, especially not to Zhang Sheng. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be eight out of ten rules restricting him anymore—it would be all ten rules restricting him, and then he’d get the dharma name: Bajie.

Wei Yuan summoned three bolts of thunder, channeling them through the Pure Land of Bliss, transforming them into Buddhist divine thunder—but unlike the orthodox Cleansing Divine Thunder, this was fiercer, more destructive, known as the Void Heaven Divine Thunder. At this moment, Wei Yuan suddenly awakened to many truths of the Unceasing Law of Emptiness and Form; he not only learned the Void Heaven Divine Thunder but also grasped a subtle distinction between the Great Joyous King Buddha and the Great Sun Tathagata.

The Tathagata subdues demons, while the King Buddha eradicates them—that is the difference.

When the Void Heaven Thunder was used, a single incense stick lit up in the incense burner within the small temple. When seven incense sticks were fully burned, the true form would manifest upon the lotus platform.

Wei Yuan stood inside the small temple; now the lotus lamp and the red lotus both reacted, each clasping their palms in reverence, their demeanor respectful.

Wei Yuan ignored the two bald heads and walked straight to the incense burner, suddenly reaching out to pull the incense stick!

If he pulled that incense stick, perhaps his karmic debt to the King Buddha could be postponed. Though Wei Yuan knew it was likely useless, his fingers itched anyway.

Of course, Wei Yuan’s hand closed on empty air.

At that moment, the green lamp before the Buddha softly spoke: “You’ve used up the Pure Land’s power and now want to pull the incense? How despicable.”

Wei Yuan’s face was as cold as water; he glanced left and right. The lotus lamp cried out: “It wasn’t me!”

Wei Yuan looked from the green lamp to the lotus lamp, waiting for the thief-monk to explain—just to see how he’d spin this.

The lotus lamp, having recovered from its panic, assumed a solemn, radiant visage and said: “The lamp is the lamp, I am I, I am yet not I. If the Buddha Lord does not believe me, I have here three scrolls of sutras—you need only read them to know.”

Seeing the three volumes of the Sutra of the Three Realms’ Ruyi suddenly appear in the lotus lamp’s hands, Wei Yuan didn’t even glance at them, let alone open them to recite; he snorted and kept trying to pull the incense—but each time, his hand closed on empty air.

Wei Yuan knew the incense was right there, yet he could never touch it. The incense was profoundly mysterious—present yet not present. Whenever Wei Yuan reached for it, it transformed into absence. After his hand passed, it became present again. When he withdrew his hand, it returned to its elusive, ambiguous state.

After several attempts, Wei Yuan suddenly understood: whether the incense was present or absent depended entirely on whether he reached for it. Thus, this matter had no solution.

Wei Yuan lost his first battle against the Great Joyous King Buddha. He snorted, refusing to yield in spirit, then turned and walked away.

After he left, the lotus lamp finally exhaled, beads of sweat forming on its bald head. The red lotus, curious, asked: “Brother, what do these three sutras say? I’ve never heard of them before.”

The lotus lamp smiled, picked up one sutra, and handed it to the red lotus. The red lotus opened it—and found it completely blank!

The lotus lamp chuckled: “I just made up the names of these sutras a moment ago. Of course you’ve never heard of them.”

…

In the dark void above the City of Heaven, six Heavenly Witches—Ming Lei, You Feng, Yan Mo, and others—stood suspended in the air, staring at a full moon in the sky. Within the moon’s surface, a tiny speck, no larger than dust but blindingly prominent to the Heavenly Witches, trembled slightly; fine cracks appeared on its shell.

Ming Lei’s face was grim. He growled: “This thing is about to hatch, and we’re powerless to stop it. You You Feng—hadn’t it been for your stupid plan, how could we have summoned such a strange, evil thing?”

You Feng flew into a rage: “Where was my plan stupid? Point it out! Where was it stupid? It’s your Li Witches who were useless, your Sheng Witches who neglected your duties—that’s why we’re in this mess! What does it have to do with me?”

Yan Mo, who had been silent until now, spoke: “You stood by and let Rong Long die. You lost control of most of the Wild Realm’s authority. You allowed a position equal to the First Heavenly Witch to slip from our grasp and break away from the Witch Domain. You committed such a grave sin—and still dare to be arrogant? Do you think even the Ancestral Witch won’t punish you? On what grounds? Because you’re a direct bloodline descendant?”

You Feng coldly replied: “Because I carry the Ancestral Witch’s blood! You inferior witch vermin with crude bloodlines—you dare to climb above me?”

At these words, Yan Mo leapt to his feet—but Ming Lei grabbed him by the arm. Ming Lei spoke slowly: “You… say ‘you’?”

You Feng realized her phrasing was ill-advised, but she never admitted fault. She snapped: “I mean all of you here! Anyone without the original Ancestral Witch’s blood has a crude lineage! Am I wrong?”