Chapter 576: Spirit Mountain (33 Today 1w)

"Simply unbearable to look at!"

Chijiao the monk lifted his monk's staff, looked at the pile of mush in the pit that no longer resembled a human, and could not help but stomp his foot in anger once more.

Boom!

The sand pit beneath his feet caved in, swallowing the filthy flesh and blood mixed with bone shards, and a moment later, it vanished into the vast yellow sand.

But even so, Chijiao the monk still could not calm the indignation in his heart.

"Attacking innocent mortals and refining their essence and blood—such conduct is simply worse than a beast!"

Because when he turned back, he could see the scattered, broken corpses covering the ground, already seeping into the sandy soil.

There were men and women, old and young, and many supplies were scattered across the ground.

This was an ordinary merchant caravan traveling between oases, not equipped with many guards.

But even if they had elite guards for protection, they could not have avoided the tragedy, because those who attacked them were not beasts of the desert, but monks of the Lingyu Sect.

Chijiao the monk had originally been on the road to find the Fozi and had not wanted to interfere in the affairs of the Western Desert, but when he passed by here, he sensed a thick aura of death, and after seeing everything that had happened here, he ultimately could not help but intervene.

But Chijiao the monk had arrived too late; the tragedy was already nearing its end, and that Demon monk had already begun to refine the essence and blood.

In the end, he only saved five people, and among these five, apart from a boy protected by his mother, the others were all in a state of critical injury and near death.

"Mother! Wake up! Mother! Don't leave me!" The boy's sorrowful weeping brought Chijiao the monk back to his senses; now was not the time for sentimentality.

A low, deep chanting of scriptures arose.

While Chijiao the monk performed rites for the innocent dead to ensure their souls would not be defiled by the Demon monk's evil arts, he gently waved his hand toward the five people, scattering a ray of Buddha-light.

The Buddha-light descended, causing the injuries on their bodies to heal rapidly; flesh and blood grew back quickly, and the wounds soon scabbed over and fell off, recovering as if they had never been there.

In just a moment, apart from looking somewhat weak and lethargic in spirit, they looked almost no different from ordinary people and soon regained consciousness.

After waking, they were dazed for a moment, seemingly feeling as though they had arrived in the Pure Land, but they soon realized they were still alive. Looking at their tattered, blood-stained clothes and their clean, brand-new bodies, they were moved to tears.

When death descended, they had felt nothing, not even realizing what was happening.

But when they regained their lives and saw the sunlight once more, fear and excitement surged into their hearts simultaneously.

"Many thanks, Holy Monk!!!"

"Many thanks for your help, Holy Monk!!!"

They knelt and bowed to Chijiao the monk, kowtowing forcefully to express their joy and gratitude for their rebirth.

At this moment, the boy also excitedly hugged his mother who had awakened, holding her extremely carefully for fear of hurting her.

"Mother!"

After the blood monk appeared, his mother had pressed him down beneath her to protect him, and the two had hidden under a pack horse.

At that time, the boy had listened to the screams in his ears, but because he was curled up in his mother's warm embrace, he had not collapsed.

When the screaming stopped, he thought they had escaped the disaster, but when he emerged from under the pack horse, he discovered his mother was already at death's door.

The warmth from his mother was entirely the blood flowing from her body.

This weak woman had used her own frail body to block all the attacks for her child.

The boy had thought he was going to lose his mother again, but fortunately, that tall Holy Monk had saved them.

When the scripture for the departed was finished, Chijiao the monk also made up his mind; he turned around and said in a low voice to the five, "Where are you going?"

"Lord Holy Monk, we are going to the Linbei Oasis in the north. Where are you going? Do you need us to show you the way?"

Chijiao the monk shook his head and pointed his staff at the horses that had been dead for some time on the ground, "Your horses are all dead; you cannot walk in the desert anymore."

"Pack up the things you need to take, then follow this poor monk; I will send you there."

"This... would this not be a bother?" the survivors replied with some trepidation; they had not expected this Lord Holy Monk to be so approachable, which left them somewhat flattered.

They had originally thought that since this lord had saved them, he would demand their supplies as a reward.

But now, listening to the Holy Monk's tone, it seemed he did not intend to ask for any reward... could this be possible?

Chijiao the monk looked at the fear and unease in their eyes and felt the burden on his shoulders grow even heavier; he sighed and said in as gentle a tone as possible, "It is no bother. Hurry and pack up; this poor monk will take you away."

"Many thanks, Lord Holy Monk!!!"

"You need not thank me; all of this is this poor monk's fault."

Chijiao the monk sighed, helped the boy who was kneeling on the ground in gratitude to his feet, and said in a low voice, "If this poor monk had not hesitated over those trivial matters and had made up his mind sooner to arrive one step earlier, I could have saved more people."

"It is this poor monk's fault."

Chijiao the monk had only one purpose in coming to the Western Desert Divine Continent this time, which was to find the Fozi needed for the Bodhi Seed; for this reason, he did not want to have any conflict with anyone.

He had originally made up his mind not to interfere in the mess of the Western Desert and not to directly clash with the certain existence secretly controlling all of this.

But now it seemed he was wrong.

He simply could not turn a blind eye to all of this!

If he truly stood by and did nothing, how would he be any different from these Demon monks!!?

"No matter who you truly are, I cannot tolerate everything you have done."

Chijiao the monk's eyes lit up; his pupils were like twisted red suns, his anger surging and turbulent, and he roared in his heart:

"To twist the Buddha Dharma like this, I will definitely make you pay the price!"

Western Desert, Spirit Mountain.

At this moment, the appearance of Spirit Mountain was completely different from a hundred years ago; it was now a place of golden splendor, resembling a huge, incomparable palace constructed from various precious materials like gold, silver, and glaze.

The entire surface of the building was inlaid with countless jewels, and under the illumination of the Buddha-light radiating from the mountaintop, it reflected brilliant, colorful light, as dazzling as the starry sky.

Luxury goods could be seen everywhere—rare fine wines, peerless jewelry, various expensive artworks, and so on. These items all emitted unique fragrances and light, and one could even faintly see a trace of Buddha-nature; these were all offerings presented by Believers from various places, some of which had even been consecrated.

And these contributors were qualified to stay on Spirit Mountain for several days, indulging in luxury and pleasure here, tasting delicious food, drinking fine wine, enjoying wonderful and moving music and dancing, and could even engage in deep exchanges with the female Bodhisattvas of the Lingyu Sect.

The atmosphere was lively and noisy, an incomparable revelry.

In this world, they do not feel hunger, cold, pain, or sorrow; they only need to enjoy themselves to the fullest and indulge wantonly.

After they depart, they will suddenly feel as if it were all just a dream, feeling incomparable emptiness; in order to return to this dream-like place again, they will once more exhaust everything they have to offer.

Round and round it goes, until they eventually lose everything.

Wealth, flesh, soul... everything, absolutely everything, will be ignited, burning it all to nothingness.

At this moment, at the highest point of Spirit Mountain, a pair of eyes is coldly staring at the mortals below who have fallen into madness and the monks who are fooling them.

"..."

That person wears a black monk's robe, looks to be about fifty or sixty years old, has a stern expression, is surrounded by a faint black light, and has a faint aura of ferocity in his eyes.

He is Jiexing, the helmsman of the Lingyu Sect, the Fozi of this generation.

After watching silently for a while, he turns around without a sound and walks toward the hall behind him.

Passing through the resplendent corridors, he gradually goes deep into the depths of Spirit Mountain, finally stopping in front of a simple wooden house.

The simplicity of this place is completely out of place with the environment on Spirit Mountain, but there is no strangeness in Jiexing's eyes; he walks up and knocks on the door gently, then pushes it open and enters directly.

The interior of the house is as simple as its exterior, containing only a meditation cushion, a Wooden Fish, and a small, withered tree.

A young man with his eyes closed sits cross-legged on the meditation cushion in front of the tree.

Jiexing looks at the young man, who is radiating a faint golden light, kneels down respectfully, lowers his head, and says softly, "Fozhu."

"Jiexing, you have come."

The young man slowly opens his eyes and smiles at his chief disciple, who is kneeling respectfully on the ground, "What has happened?"

It is hard to imagine that this great secret Demon, who is regarded as a flood or a wild beast in the eyes of the world, is actually like a kind young monk, radiating a faint flowing light, looking without a hint of evil, and full of holiness.

In contrast, the Fozi Jiexing looks more like the incarnation of the evil they perceive, like a monk who has Fallen into Demon, and he indeed is.

"Reporting to Fozhu, this disciple has served as Fozi for a hundred years; it is time to select the next Fozi." But at this moment, Jiexing does not dare to show any disrespect, curling his body up to show reverence.

"Has another hundred years passed?"

Fozhu seems a bit dazed, blinks his eyes, and sighs, "Time really passes quickly."

"Then you arrange this matter; let it be the last thing you do as Fozi."

Jiexing lowers his head even further and says respectfully, "Yes, does Fozhu have any other arrangements?"

"No, everything should be consistent with the past."

"This disciple understands, then this disciple will take his leave." Having received his instructions, Jiexing slowly rises and bows as he retreats out of the wooden house.

And just as Jiexing is about to walk out of the room, the young man seems to remember something, looks at the withered little tree, and says, "By the way, it is time to water the Bodhi Treasure Tree; you make the arrangements."

"... Yes, this disciple understands; I will have the water sent tomorrow."

"Mm."

Click.

After exiting the wooden house, Jiexing leaves quickly, finds two monks wearing gorgeous monk robes, and instructs, "Send men to collect the vital blood of those ten thousand people and send it to Fozhu before the sun sets today."

"Yes, we will go and see to it now."

After the two take their leave, Jiexing returns to the terrace where he stood before, silently watching the revelry above and below Spirit Mountain, not moving for a long time.

"Um, can I discuss something with you?"

Ren Yidao looks at the Bodhisattva with her chest exposed in front of him, and asks with a bit of shyness mixed with politeness:

"Can you give your heart to me?"