Chapter 411

The Western Regions—

Three hundred li outside Anxi City, Nangong Wumeng led her newly formed cavalry scouts on patrol, her mood quite cheerful—though, of course, not because Li Guanyi had awakened.

But still, she was very happy.

Even every occasional patrol felt invigorating; she was originally the Holy Maiden of the Jianghuda Sect, at the Fifth Heaven level of Wu Gong, wielding the divine weapon Yin-Yang Lunzhuan Chi, and even ordinary Sixth Heaven martialists were no match for her.

Though she knew that with her current essence, qi, and spirit, as well as her martial will, she would likely stall at the peak of the Sixth Heaven, unable to advance further—just like the patriarch of the Gongsun Clan—she was already deeply satisfied.

Li Guanyi had pacified most of the Western Regions, and the entire area held extremely high recognition for the Tian Kehan; with patrols uneventful, she was preparing to return when word suddenly came from the front lines: someone had been discovered.

Nangong Wumeng froze, then spurred her horse forward—and saw a familiar figure.

The man had already spotted Nangong Wumeng, and with joy, called out loudly: "Amitabha, how wonderful, how wonderful!"

"It is Miss Nangong Wumeng. This humble monk, Shi San, meets you again today."

"This is good fortune indeed!"

Nangong Wumeng rushed forward, leaping into the air—and saw it was a disciple of the Xuegong, the man who had once used the Ta Xin Tong technique to aid the Anxi Protectorate; seeing an old acquaintance, she was delighted: "Great Monk, how did you return?!"

As she drew near, she noticed the monk's robe was stained with blood—earlier, the forward scouts had spotted him and gone on alert—these scouts were all veterans pulled from the front lines, having endured multiple battles, and were elite troops.

They sensed blood and martial killing intent with exceptional clarity.

That was why they had surrounded him.

Nangong Wumeng said: "What is this…?!"

Monk Shi San looked at his robe and said: "Amitabha, I do have some injuries, but I'm fine—my skin is thick, my body hardened through cross-training, already at the peak of the Thirteenth Layer."

"The injuries belong to a senior."

Nangong Wumeng said: "Great Monk, you've come for aid?!"

She whistled sharply: "Make room for one horse. You all return and report this to Anxi City. Great Monk, I'll go with you."

Monk Shi San beamed: "Ha! Wonderful, wonderful!"

"I don't need a horse—I'll run on foot, and I won't be slower than your horses. Come, follow me!" He turned, still holding a thick, heavy staff as thick as his wrist, and broke into a sprint, his footsteps thundering.

Nangong Wumeng and the others followed.

Along the way, Nangong Wumeng asked what had happened, and the monk answered honestly: "Since parting from Brother Li Guanyi and the others, I wandered far and wide—but later, the wars grew ever more chaotic."

"I was captured by traitorous generals of the Western Regions; they hated my bald head and said they'd boil me alive—I escaped. Later, I went to the Tangut Kingdom and met a Tangut prince imprisoned."

"Using my martial skill and brute strength, I helped the prince's ministers free him; afterward, I received some gold and silver, distributed it among the common folk, bought dried rations and steamed buns, and continued eastward."

"I escorted some people back to Ying Country."

"I entered the heartland of Ying Country, originally thinking I'd finally reached the Central Plains."

"I planned to visit a few fellow disciples, go to a temple, and beg for a meal—but I stumbled upon a fierce battle."

Monk Shi San's face bore a complex expression. He shook his robe—the gray fabric was stained, but the blood was not crimson; it carried a faint golden hue.

He had witnessed the Yu Langwang being killed, seen the Western Regions' Living Buddha charge alone into a nation's capital city, where arrows rained down like a storm, blotting out the sky—the withered old monk clasped his hands, revealing a glazed Jin Gang body.

He passed alone through the ranks of ten thousand soldiers.

The old monk took Jiang Su's full strike head-on.

Then, with all his strength, he seized Chen Fubian's corpse—but he could not retrieve the head. Monk Shi San followed the qi, slew over a dozen Ying soldiers alone, and found the old monk among the mountains.

The hoofbeats fell silent. Monk Shi San stopped. Nangong Wumeng and the others saw before them a horrifying sight: an old monk, hands clasped, his body glowing with pure, translucent light like glazed crystal—the highest state of the Buddhist path.

But upon this glazed body, countless cracks spread.

Thin streams of golden blood flowed through the fissures, occasionally dripping.

Beside the old monk lay a massive coffin, tightly sealed, bound with iron chains; on the monk himself, serene glazed purity and shattered ruin, life and death, coexisted.

Great destruction carries great solemnity.

Monk Shi San gripped his staff and whispered: "…The Changfeng Lady escorted us out. The Changfeng Lady also suffered great losses. I am powerless—after Miss Xue learned of this, she gave everything."

"At the border, Chen Country's Nightgallop Cavalry personally held the rear for us."

"Only then could we break through the layers of blockade."

From these few words, Nangong Wumeng heard the epic scale of the journey—she could sense it had been heart-stopping, terrifying; the world's stories were all like this.

The old monk opened his eyes and said gently:

"I still have one thing left undone."

"Please, Miss, take me to see Li Guanyi and Chen Wenmian."

Nangong Wumeng whispered: "…Master, please."

The old monk, his body glowing with glazed light, rose. He gently reached out, stroking the massive coffin, and whispered: "I've returned…" Then he slung the coffin onto his back—and his steps suddenly grew light and swift.

He moved like the wind. Monk Shi San walked beside him, holding his long staff in one hand, silent.

In Anxi City, Li Guanyi and Chen Wenmian had received word from the wandering martialist, who stammered: "I—I don't know!"

"We only heard it from the Changfeng Lady. If you think it's false…"

"Go ask the Changfeng Lady!"

Li Guanyi suddenly realized that the Changfeng Lady was using the voices of the crowd to spread messages that had been suppressed; Chen Wenmian staggered to his feet and asked, "Did the Monk succeed?!"

Li Guanyi suddenly realized: this was the Changfeng Lady using the voices of the masses to spread messages that had been sealed. Chen Wenmian staggered to his feet: "Did the monk succeed?!"

The wandering martialist nearly wept: "I—I don't know!"

"How could we possibly see clearly from there?"

"Master, Master, let me kowtow twice!"

Chen Wenmian staggered to his feet, his face pale, and reluctantly bowed a greeting, saying, "I apologize—I was mentally unsettled and offended you, sir. It was my fault."

Chen Wenmian staggered up, pale-faced, and reluctantly bowed: "Forgive me—I'm emotionally unsteady. I've offended you. It's my fault."

He reached into his chest, pulled out the entire money pouch, placed it on the table, then turned to leave—but as he spun around, he knocked over the table behind him; everything on it clattered loudly to the ground.

He reached into his robe, pulled out the entire money pouch, placed it on the table, then turned to leave—but as he turned, he knocked over the table behind him; things crashed to the floor with a clatter.

【61】 A peerless war general, destined to reach the Grandmaster realm by age twenty, now seemed unable to walk steadily.

Li Guanyi said: "Thank you..."

He turned to chase Chen Wenmian, leaving the several Central Plains wanderers behind, staring at each other in confusion. Li Guanyi saw the Qiong Qi manifestation on Chen Wenmian's body gradually sharpening, growing more monstrous—the violent, mad blood hidden within the Chen royal lineage was awakening.

Chen Wenmian's eyes glowed faintly red; his temple hairs rose and fell as he ran, now streaked with strands of white. Li Guanyi's heart sank—he knew Chen Wenmian was Emotionally Weighted, and thus most vulnerable to being wounded by emotion and righteousness.

Li Guanyi thought of Chen Wenmian's past.

His mother was violated and gave birth to him, then killed herself.

Chen Dingye saw him as a pawn; his maternal grandfather, Dan Tai Xianming, personally orchestrated his mother's tragedy, then sacrificed himself in the scheme.

In the end, only Yu Langwang had stayed with him for three years.

It was like the last rope pulling him forward—and now, that rope had been cruelly snapped, trampled. Li Guanyi grunted, feeling his body's weakness, and without hesitation, entered the pseudo Wu Gong Legend state.

His control over his body surged instantly—even in his severely wounded state, he closed the distance in an instant, catching up to Chen Wenmian, who was frenziedly sprinting with his manifestation exposed, and pressed his hand onto Chen's shoulder.

Bai Hu roared.

The Qiong Qi manifestation was forcibly suppressed.

Li Guanyi grabbed Chen Wenmian, whose body was wrapped in swirling qi, and said: "Calm down!"

Chen Wenmian gasped heavily; the pain and sorrow in his eyes finally subsided. After a long silence, he said: "Big brother..."

Li Guanyi said: "Since this news came from Changfeng Lady, wait a moment." Chen Wenmian barely suppressed his emotions; the Qiong Qi manifestation, nearly solidified by extreme emotional turmoil, dissipated.

"... Yes."

Li Guanyi patted his shoulder, urging him to calm down. They returned to the Anxi Protectorate, where the sound of warhorses neighing filled the air, followed by Nangong Wumeng's voice: "Someone! Lei Laomeng, Shi Dalin, come out quickly!"

Li Guanyi sensed the familiar aura outside and rushed out with Chen Wenmian. They saw the monk, escorted all the way by mounted scouts. Chen Wenmian saw the glaring, massive black coffin, and the old man whose glazed body was riddled with cracks.

Chen Wenmian swayed slightly, yet now he was calm. Slowly, he raised his hand, bowing respectfully to the aged monk, then pulled up his robe and knelt straight down, whispering: "... Disciple Chen Wenmian, thanks to the elder."

The old monk remained silent, then softly said: "I failed to fully fulfill his request."

"Jiang Su and the others, to cleanse the insult to the King's dignity toward the entire nation, desecrated his remains... Perhaps they believed that to make up for what was lost, they must retaliate a thousandfold against those who caused the damage."

Li Guanyi dismissed everyone around, leaving only Chen Wenmian and the old monk. He himself had planned to leave, but the old monk called him back. The monk said: "I carried out the King's request—I brought back all of his remains."

"I entrust them to you two."

He stepped aside and gently pushed open the coffin with one palm.

A wave of blood and deathly aura surged forth. Inside lay the headless corpse of Yu Langwang. Because the old monk had finally erected the coffin upright, the Divine Wu Wang seemed still standing upon the earth.

The battle blade that had accompanied him lay inside the coffin.

Even with preparation, both Li Guanyi and Chen Wenmian were stunned. Li Guanyi could almost still hear that bold, unrestrained laugh—"Big nephew!"—and the figure galloping across the battlefield.

Li Guanyi's chest tightened. He looked at Chen Wenmian.

Chen Wenmian stood quietly, only sorrowful—but the Qiong Qi manifestation beside him grew clearer. The old monk whispered: "The King fought Jiang Su move for move, and ultimately died from Jiang Su's technique. He ordered me to recover his body."

"You two must remember the fatal wounds on his body. One day, surpass Jiang Su."

"As for Jiang Su..."

"The King's blade was coated with poison—the seized 【Fei Poison】. For Jiang Su's Wu Gong Legend body, Fei Poison was like a mere insect sting—no real harm."

"But in the end, the King's blade shattered Jiang Su's left eye."

"The Fei Poison did not affect his sinews or bones, but it utterly killed Jiang Su's left eye. The King spoke of his plan with great pride—perhaps he had waited a long time for that strike."

The old monk slowly turned, reached out, and took the weapon from Yu Langwang's hand. As the blade left Chen Fubin's grip, it emitted a chilling, martial sound. The monk's voice was calm: "I intended to protect his body, but Jiang Su's Wu Gong was too high."

"On the battlefield, I could not reach him in time."

"Old monk is powerless—only this weapon remains."

He turned, holding the weapon with both hands. It was a long-handled weapon: the shaft rough and coarse, dark green in color; a double-edged halberd, its blade stained with vivid crimson, radiating a quiet, heavy power.

Divine Weapon · Ascended!

After its master completed his supreme deeds, this weapon, which had accompanied Yu Langwang in conquering the world, naturally crossed the threshold and achieved true Divine Weapon power, revealing a righteous, terrifying might.

"Perhaps only Wenmian can hold it."

Chen Wenmian slowly extended his hand and took the battle blade.

His palm trembled slightly.

The long-handled divine weapon hummed softly, offering no resistance. Li Guanyi looked at the solemnly dead Yu Langwang, his hatred toward Jiang Su rising another level. He reached out and gently closed the coffin, not disturbing Chen Wenmian, only saying:

"Elder, let me heal you."

He placed his palm on the old monk's shoulder. The Wu Gong of the Huang Ji Jing Shi Shu flowed instantly—but in that instant, he froze. His expression changed as he stared at the old man before him.

Li Guanyi suddenly understood why the Living Buddha had maintained his Jin Gang glazed body all the way here.

The old man's five viscera and six bowels were shattered.

Without the Jin Gang glazed body to protect himself, he would have died on the journey. Even now, if he released the glazed energy restraining his internal injuries, he would die instantly.

The old monk merely smiled and said: "Amitabha. The old promise to a departed friend has finally been kept. Old monk is leaving."

He reached out and placed his hand on Li Guanyi's arm, guiding his palm away from his shoulder. The Western Region Living Buddha looked at him and whispered: "Young disciple, back in Jiangzhou City's Daoist temple, that thousand-knots puzzle—you truly untied it, didn't you?"

The Jin Gang glazed body on the old monk dissolved, his glow fading. He looked once more like a humble, meek, thin, dark-skinned old monk.

He laughed twice, then turned and shuffled away. After a few steps, he suddenly remembered something, turned his head, and asked: "By the way."

"Could you give me a flask of wine?"

Li Guanyi fetched wine and tossed it to the old monk. The monk caught it, walked slowly away. The sunlight was warm, the mortal world vast. He squinted, suddenly relaxing. He saw Monk Thirteen with the Staff waiting nearby.

The old monk bid farewell to the others and departed alone, with only Monk Thirteen following.

The old monk asked: "Why are you following me, boy?"

Monk Thirteen replied bluntly: "When I descended the mountain, I once debated Dharma with my Patriarch. I lost, so he half-guided, half-tricked me down. Now, after traveling, I've gained insight. Today, seeing you, Elder, may I ask: what is Buddha?"

The old monk scoffed: "What Buddha? I've never seen one."

He walked along the roads of Anxi City, watching passersby. No one feared this old monk. He walked for a long time, until he saw at the road's end a household. Inside, adults were busy; outside, a child played.

Playing with round stone marbles.

A straight stick, a round stone marble—children's toys from south to north of the Great River, from the Western Regions to the Central Plains, were much the same; the child seemed to notice the monk, unafraid, said: "Old sir, who are you looking for?"

The old monk smiled: "I'm looking for the way back."

The child spoke without filter, staring at him:

"Old sir, where are you going back to?"

"Ah, I've forgotten."

The child laughed, speaking with childish candor: "I know!"

"You forgot how you came."

"Just turn around!"

"Then it's done."

"How you came, that's how you return."

The old monk chewed over the child's words, his eyes suddenly widened, then he clapped his hands and burst into loud laughter—he laughed freely, reached out, and stroked the child's hair, then turned to face the tall monk.

He pointed at the child, then at the distant Anxi City.

"Did you see that? Buddha."

The boy laughed: "Mama, Mama, someone praised me!"

A woman's voice came from inside: "Are there guests?" The child ran back; the old monk sat cross-legged, gazing at the bustling, warm city beneath the sunset, murmuring: "It's time for a farewell Buddha note."

But he paused, then only smiled:

"Forgotten."

Monk Thirteen watched the old Living Buddha, saw blood-red marks rising across his body, his face filled with sorrow; yet the old monk's vision seemed to show his younger self—the thin, dark, miserable boy.

Within him, a soul seemed to swirl; Monk Thirteen went on guard.

It was the thousand-year-old legacy of the Western Regions' Buddhist lineage, as if screaming, demanding the old monk join them, to become an object passed through generations, to seek another host.

Yet the old monk appeared unaware, lifted his wine flask, tilted his head, and drank.

"So bitter…"

He set the flask down.

He smiled softly:

"Wu Wang."

"The monk has come to keep our old vow."

His already shattered body disintegrated; under the final blaze of Buddhist power, it turned into a streak of light, soaring skyward, unwilling to frighten the passing townsfolk with his death.

The thousand-year-old spiritual remnant of the Western Regions' Buddhist lineage was dissolved by him.

Countless śarīras fell to the ground, mixing into soil and gravel.

Monk Thirteen's eyes were filled with sorrow, when he saw the boy emerge, carrying some dried bread, puzzled: "Where did the old sir go?"

Monk Thirteen said: "He's gone."

The child sighed: "Gone? Hmm, ah—what a smooth pebble!" He spotted one smooth śarīra on the ground; Monk Thirteen reached out, gently stroking the boy's hair, murmuring: "... It's his gift to you."

"Huh? A gift? But how do you use a gift like this?"

"Good marble—perfect to play with."

"That's enough."

The boy happily picked up several 'smooth pebbles' and ran off to play with children his age, laughing joyfully; the other śarīras sank into the earth, trodden underfoot by passersby, bearing the weight of their comings and goings.

Mixed into the soil, entering the red dust of the human world.

Monk Thirteen gained insight; upon his body, once like a Jin Gang Wisdom King, his face now bore the gentle, compassionate expression of a Bodhisattva. He remained silent for a long while, palms together, murmuring:

"Amitabha…"

"Congratulations, Elder."

He picked up his staff, turned, and left—like any ordinary man, treading upon the place where the old monk had passed away, like dust, like earth, like you and me.

This is the human world.

The foremost of the Ten Great Masters of the Jianghu, the Western Regions' Living Buddha.

Alone, he stormed the capital of the Ying State, amidst a thousand armies, and seized the corpse of Wu Wang.

Severely wounded, he endured seven thousand li of travel.

He passed away within Anxi City.

……………………

Chen Wenmian held the battle blade alone, lonely and desolate.

This was his heart trial—even Li Guanyi could not truly help him.

Changfeng Lady had followed the old monk and Thirteen; upon their arrival, Li Guanyi received intelligence from Changfeng Lady, and knew fully the full story—not the absolute truth, but as close as one could get.

The Changfeng Lady's intelligence also included an update from the Number One Tower on changes in the Divine General Rankings; Li Guanyi cared only about two changes: the top Divine General remained Jiang Su, but her title had changed.

From Divine General, to Grand Tutor of the Ying State.

Second: the Turkic Khan.

Third: Divine General Gao Xiang.

Fourth: Divine Might Grand General of the Ying State, Yuwen Lie.

Li Guanyi lowered his gaze; he saw no familiar name, yet at the other end of the Divine General Ranking, he spotted a record—

"Yu Langwang—Chen Fubì."

"Killed in battle; ultimately ranked second among contemporary Divine Generals."

"Wish his title to be—Wu Wang."

"Removed from the list due to death; recorded for his valor and ferocity."

Li Guanyi gently traced his finger over these words, falling silent for a long while.

"Shenwu Wang…"

………………

【Of heroic strategy destined to shape the age, he needed no chant of the Red Emperor, nor the gathering of emperors.】

【His clan divided the lands, wielded power tyrannically, deposed emperors and installed rulers, reversing heaven and turning the sun.】

【He carved up the virtuous, tore apart the realm, not for loyalty or integrity, but with cruel, solitary ferocity.】

【Yet when he stirred Zhu Fang, his wind surged through the bamboo groves; his dragon-like stride, tiger-like step, resolved all with divine will. With one cry of his long sword, righteous voices converged from all sides. Even ancient generals could not surpass him. He gathered the extraordinary, understood men through their deeds, acted only when the time was right, never repeated a campaign, extending west to the Western Regions, carving eastward into Southern Chen.】

【His valor and grandeur were unmatched in his age.】

—————— The Annals of Chen: The Shenwu Wang

In the southwest, within the Wang Fu.

The Wu Wang, plagued daily by the cursed state of the world and the vexing shifts among the factions, was deeply displeased to hear that Chen had not lost—but had instead bitten back hard at Ying, tearing off a great chunk of flesh.

The rumors outside were chaotic, saying all manner of things.

Some claimed the Yu Langwang was dead; others said Chen Dingye had erupted; still others said Li Wanli's son was no less than his father…

Ridiculous. No less than his father?

"Damn it, his father Li Wanli was fifth on the Divine General List at thirty! That boy of his? At most eighteen—eighteen! Not even a hair grown, and he's no less than his father?!"

"Pah!"

"No less than his father? In front of him, I'd turn around and shit a pile."

"The rumors out there just keep growing wilder!"

The Wu Wang, unbound by Central Plains etiquette, was bold and coarse, always cursing.

Then he opened a scroll sent by the Changfeng Lady.

The Divine General List

"Updated so fast… Old Wolf, old Wolf, you're gone after all…"

"Sigh…"

The Wu Wang was no longer young, between Li Wanli and Chen Fubi in age; hearing such news, the death of an old friend stirred his sorrow, and he glanced over.

The bold, free-spirited Wu Wang's throat seemed suddenly clamped shut by a Shitie Beast.

Not a word could he speak.

He stared, fixed, at that single line of text.

【Qin Wu — Li Guanyi】

【Rank — Fifth on the Divine General List】

"??!!"

"What?!"

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