Chapter 323

……

Luoyang.

A magnificent temple situated on a small hill.

The temple complex is vast and grand, with hundreds of buildings combined, resembling a small city.

Except for a Bronze Hall that is three zhang wide and deep and half a zhang high, all the buildings are covered in three-colored glazed tiles, their colors as fresh as new.

Clang!

The melodious tolling of a bell rings out from the great bell located between two pagodas, seeming to possess the power to cleanse the dust from one's heart, making this temple feel all the more Zen-filled.

Rumble!!

Suddenly, bursts of hoofbeats sound out, shattering the tranquility of Jingnian Chanyuan. One could see teams of soldiers clad in armor and wielding sharp weapons surging in like a tide, instantly surrounding this world-renowned Wulin Holy Land, leaving not even a drop of water to leak through.

Originally, there was a little monk sweeping the floor in front of the temple, but upon seeing this scene, he was so frightened that he immediately ran inside the courtyard.

"What exactly does this Imperial Tutor want to do? He couldn't possibly really be planning to take action against Jingnian Chanyuan, could he?"

A general of medium build, with long, narrow eyes flashing with a profound light, wearing black armor and carrying a long saber at his waist, reveals a look of confusion: "Can't guess, truly can't guess."

This person is called Yang Gongqing, a great general under Wang Shichong, though he had long been dissatisfied with Wang Shichong's nepotism and arbitrary ways. After Wang Shichong was taken into custody, he temporarily took charge of the Luoyang troops.

"Amitabha, General Yang, I wonder what brings you to our Jingnian Chanyuan?" Amidst a Fotu chant, the gates of Jingnian Chanyuan are pushed open, and a group of monks has already walked out.

The person in the lead is tall and handsome, with a slender and graceful figure and an indescribable charm; no matter how one looks at him, he should not be over forty years old.

But Yang Gongqing's expression cannot help but turn grave.

Because he knows this person is the abbot of Jingnian Chanyuan, Liaokong Dashi, whose martial arts and Fotu teachings are both peerless in the world.

Liaokong Dashi practices the Zen of Silence and has not spoken a word for decades.

The one who just uttered the Fotu chant is actually a tall and burly monk in blue robes; besides him, there are three other monks in blue robes of varying builds walking side-by-side with him.

It goes without saying that these are the Four Great Vajras of Jingnian Chanyuan.

Buchan, Buchi, Butan, and Buju.

Besides Liaokong Dashi and the Four Great Vajras, behind them are dense rows of monks, numbering about two hundred.

Yang Gongqing's eyebrows twitch as he watches; although these two hundred monks are not many, each one has long, steady breathing and their Qi is perfectly synchronized. Clearly, they not only possess deep internal energy but are also proficient in combined attack techniques.

If this group of warrior monks were determined to fight their way out of the encirclement, he fears that even if his soldiers blocked them with all their might, they might not be able to slaughter all the warrior monks.

Furthermore, does he really dare to let this Fotu holy land be stained with blood?

Yang Gongqing feels his scalp tingle for a moment and hurriedly says: "The Imperial Tutor ordered his subordinate to bring troops to clear the way, perhaps out of admiration for the great reputation of Jingnian Chanyuan, wishing to burn incense and worship Fotu; I hope you masters will forgive us."

The white-haired and white-bearded Vajra Buchi, who is around sixty years old, presses his palms together and says: "To burn incense and worship Fotu, does it really require so many soldiers to act as guards? Could it be that he is worried that our Jingnian Chanyuan might harm him?"

Another tall and thin Vajra, Butan, snorts coldly: "As the Imperial Tutor, Yu Liancheng has countless killings on his hands and has repeatedly stirred up disputes, throwing the world into chaos. Our Jingnian Chanyuan refuses to welcome such a Demon."

The last monk, Buju, shakes his head and says: "Amitabha, the Imperial Tutor has deep roots of the Demon, which can never be resolved by Fotu teachings. If he does not cleanse his heart and reform from now on, turning toward goodness, he will fall into hell after death and never be reborn."

Yang Gongqing shakes his head.

This group of monks is truly bold; he fears they have not yet seen the cruel methods of the Imperial Tutor.

"So that is how the high monks of the Fotu sect view this seat; what a pity, what a pity." A soft sigh sounds out, echoing endlessly in everyone's ears.

The monks' expressions change, for this voice came from within Jingnian Chanyuan.

Monk Buchan has another older monk keep an eye on Yang Gongqing and the soldiers, while the Four Great Vajra Protectors and Liaokong Dashi return inside Jingnian Chanyuan.

They follow the sound and finally see three people on a platform square that is a hundred zhang wide, built of white stone and surrounded by carved white stone railings.

These are one man and two women, all of peerless beauty; no matter their appearance or bearing, one could not find a single flaw.

But the temperaments of the three are each different: the man in black is ethereal and graceful, the barefoot girl is pure and charming, and the woman in the white dress is aloof and transcendent.

They are none other than Yu Liancheng, Wanwan, and Zhu Yuyan.

"It is the Imperial Tutor, the Queen of Yin, and the demoness Wanwan of the Yin Gui Sect!" Buchan frowns, recognizing the three as well.

"A fine Jingnian Chanyuan, claiming to be compassionate and saving the world, delivering all living beings."

Yu Liancheng stands with his hands behind his back, sweeping his gaze around, a mocking smile on his lips: "But if you truly wanted to deliver all living beings, never mind the splendor inside the great hall, just selling this square alone would be worth thousands; who knows how many commoners could be saved."

This is indeed an extremely "luxurious" square; in the center is enshrined a bronze statue of Manjushri, riding on the back of a golden-haired lion, over two zhang high, and beside the niche are the Buddhas of the Three Ages: Bhaisajyaguru, Shakyamuni, and Maitreya. The colored sculptures and gold decorations are quite imposing.

On the four edges of the white stone, besides the four stone stair exits, are five hundred Lohans evenly distributed, all cast in gold and bronze, each with different expressions and postures; whether eyes wide and brows protruding, or eyes lowered and inward-looking, they are all vivid and lifelike, no different from living people.

Even Wanwan praises: "Even compared to the Daxing Huangong, this Jingnian Chanyuan is not inferior at all; compared to our Yin Gui Sect, it is much more shabby."

The expressions of the Four Great Vajra Protectors change inexplicably, and for a moment, they do not know how to retort.

"Living beings are ignorant and value gold. The Fotu is not shaped by gold, but living beings use gold to represent the Fotu. If we do not shape a golden body, how can we make living beings convinced and propagate Fotu teachings?" A slightly obscure, low voice sounds out.

The Four Great Vajras show looks of astonishment, all looking at the Abbot Liaokong, whose expression is as calm as an ancient well.

This sentence just now was spoken by Abbot Liaokong, who has practiced the Zen of Silence for decades, and the Fotu philosophy within it is indeed intriguing and thought-provoking.

"Good, worthy of being Abbot Liaokong, your insight is indeed extraordinary." Yu Liancheng claps his hands and smiles: "It is just a pity that shaping the Fotu in gold and being extremely extravagant only breeds a bunch of bald donkeys; it is of no use to the common people, and of no use to the nation."

"Yu Liancheng! Do not rely on your glib tongue." Buchan's eyebrows twitch, with a hint of a Vajra's angry glare: "Why have you come to Jingnian Chanyuan today!"

Yu Liancheng glances at him, then casts his gaze once more toward the silent Abbot Liaokong, saying indifferently: "Abbot Liaokong is a smart man; I imagine you can guess why this seat has come."

Liaokong speaks again: "The He Clan Jade is a national treasure; Feixuan placed it in this temple to present it to a wise ruler in the future. If the benefactor is a wise ruler of the world, wait a while, and Feixuan will naturally present it with both hands. If the benefactor is a hero who brings chaos to the country, then we old monks, even if we sacrifice our lives, will absolutely not let the benefactor obtain the He Clan Jade."

"This seat is precisely the wise ruler of the ages who will unite the universe and pacify the chaotic world; why do you not obediently present the He Clan Jade?"

Yu Liancheng chuckles, rubs his chin, and says as if to himself: "You of Jingnian Chanyuan do not engage in production, yet you occupy such a magnificent Fotu city and stir up trouble all day long. Compared to this Imperial Tutor who is about to bring a prosperous age to the world, you are the ones who should truly go to hell and fall into the cycle of reincarnation forever."

"Presumptuous!" Monk Buju's eyebrows twitch, his figure suddenly darts out, and he strikes a palm toward Yu Liancheng; the palm force carries a massive power, the wind whistling, truly not to be underestimated.

Yu Liancheng strikes back with a light, fluttering palm.

Bang!

The Vajra Buju's figure trembles, and he stumbles back two steps. But Yu Liancheng retreats more than ten zhang, his figure like a wisp of black cloud, suddenly landing on the head of the Shakyamuni Fotu, causing the eyes of the several monks to spew fire in anger.

Yu Liancheng, however, does not care at all, suddenly spreading his arms, his black hair sweeping the sky like a dragon or snake, a wanton and arrogant smile appearing on his lips.

"The Fotu lowers his head and nods; the so-called compassion, salvation, and equality of all are merely words. Has he ever opened his eyes to see the living beings? But this seat is going to pacify the chaotic world and let everyone live a stable life; the Fotu is not as good as me."

At this moment, heaven and earth lost their color, and the winds and clouds shifted. His entire being seemed to radiate boundless light, illuminating the endless, gloomy night.

Even Wanwan and Zhu Yuyan, who were long familiar with Yu Liancheng's style, were stunned, let alone Abbot Liaokong and the others.

"Amitabha."

Suddenly, four more Fotu chants rose in unison, their voices distinct—some soft, some clear, some hoarse, some sonorous.

These four sounds seemed to explode out of thin air, abrupt to the extreme. Yet they were filled with a miraculous Zen intent; even top-tier experts like Wanwan and Zhu Yuyan could not help but tremble for an instant, giving rise to the thought of taking refuge in the Fotu faith.

Although this thought lasted only for an instant, one could imagine the terrifying nature of those who uttered them.

"This old monk is Zhihui; I pay my respects to the benefactor."

"This old monk is Jiaxiang; I apologize for the intrusion."

"This old monk is Dixin; greetings to you all."

"This old monk is Daoxin; I have seen you all."

Amidst the voices, four old monks clad in kasayas appeared on the plaza, though no one knew when they had arrived. Some were empty-handed, some held a Zen Staff; some were withered and thin, others were burly, all possessing strange appearances.

They were none other than the Four Great Holy Monks of the Fotu sect: Jiaxiang, Zhihui, Dixin, and Daoxin.

These four were not widely known among ordinary martial artists, but when Zhu Yuyan saw them, she could not help but reveal a look of caution.

Back then, even the Evil King Shi Zhixuan had no choice but to flee in a sorry state when faced with the four of them joining forces; it was no wonder the Queen of Yin would be so cautious.

"I fear trouble is unavoidable this time."

Zhu Yuyan glanced at the monk Liaokong again; she knew that this bald man was also not to be underestimated, and was even vaguely considered the number one person in the Fotu sect, his martial arts and Fotu dharma both having reached a realm of perfection, especially his Fotu martial arts, which had reached the state of returning to youth and reaching the pinnacle of mastery.

Dixinzunzhe pressed his palms together and said: "Benefactor, the prejudice in your words is deep. If left unchecked, the baleful energy will grow heavier day by day. It would be better to follow us four, cease the conflict, and in the days to come, you will possess immeasurable merit and can instantly become a Fotu."

Yu Liancheng did not take it to heart, merely shaking his head: "You monks, who do not engage in production, pay no grain, and pay no taxes, are truly a group of parasites. It would be better to follow me, join the military ranks, and kill the enemy to serve the country."

The atmosphere turned rigid once again.

Daoxin Chanshi sighed and shook his head: "Benefactor Yu, even the Evil King Shi Zhixuan of the past did not possess thoughts as terrifying or influence as great as yours. I fear we must have a bout today."

"Bring it on." Yu Liancheng beckoned, unconcerned: "Whether you want to stop me from obtaining the He's Jade, or want to capture me, this Imperial Tutor, to convert me with Fotu dharma—that is fine, just defeat me."

"My Fotu is compassionate, yet also possesses the Vajra's angry glare. Since the benefactor is stubborn and unyielding, we shall not be polite."

Dixinzunzhe was the first to strike, his figure leaping up, his Zen Staff waving as he unleashed his unique skill, the "Great Perfection Staff Technique."

This Zen Staff was tough and cast entirely of steel. Once swung by Dixinzunzhe, the staff's momentum tore through the air, yet it was as pervasive as mercury spilling onto the ground, reaching every gap.

The tin rings on the staff emitted a series of crisp, pleasant sounds, radiating a profound musical rhythm of Great Perfection and Great Wisdom, causing anyone who heard it to fall into an incomparable state of perfect peace, almost unable to muster any will to fight.

Daoxin Chanshi struck with both hands, changing unpredictably in the air, carrying a strange and indescribable mystery, yet appearing extremely graceful, like a pair of butterflies chasing each other, circling toward Yu Liancheng with a strange, twisting force—this was the legendary Fotu unique skill: Damo Hand.

This Damo Hand also contained a peculiar intent of "subjugation," as if transforming into circles of invisible snares, intending to bind Yu Liancheng's movements and subdue his demonic thoughts.

Zhihui Chanshi pressed his palms together, and his entire being suddenly exuded a sense of heaviness and grandeur. As he suddenly pushed his palms forward, the palm force immediately gave people a mysterious feeling of being incomparably vast and filling the entire field of vision. It was as if a Fotu stood between heaven and earth, raising a palm to suppress Yu Liancheng, a cynical demon who brought chaos to the world.

Jiaxiang Chanshi unleashed the "One Finger Zen" that shook the martial arts world. He slowly extended a withered palm from his sleeve, his four fingers curled inward, his thumb raised, and pressed it toward Yu Liancheng from afar.

These Four Great Holy Monks attacked Yu Liancheng.

Meanwhile, Abbot Liaokong led the Four Great Vajra Protectors to attack Wanwan and her master.