Chapter 532: Ten Thousand Fires, One Lamp

Chen Shu was not like Yan Keling, nor like Little Master Xuanzhen and Dharma Master Tongdeng and the others; he had nothing to prepare, so during these few days, he took a few young friends who also had no need for preparation to stroll around this planet.

In truth, this place is somewhat like a space-time node of the universe, yet it is a unique product of this universe, the plane core of this plane. The difference is that if a universe possesses an awakened space-time node, one must pass through the space-time node to come and go from the universe, whereas a plane core does not possess such an ability; it merely provides a unique space where gods can better come and go and control the outside planes, and it is also more convenient for contacting other planes, its functionality far less powerful than a space-time node.

It is like a low-spec plane transit station.

This planet is not as large as Earth in the outside world; it is a desolate little asteroid, without life, without light, without temperature, and not a blade of grass grows.

Yet upon it, there are traces of humans having lived.

Chen Shu had seen a desolate little hut, a house built purely of stone, bearing a distinct Nanzhou style, only it had been abandoned for who knows how many years.

Chen Shu had seen a stretch of palaces, the place where the successive God Emperors of the Central Kingdom lived, with traces left by them everywhere.

Chen Shu had seen a small courtyard, the house similar to those in the outside world, with a fence, green grass and plants growing in the yard, a lush jujube tree in the center, and natural light shining all around at all times and places, as if someone were truly living there.

Only upon walking close did one discover—

The grass is fake, and the tree is fake too.

This god did not know how much effort they had expended to build such a courtyard, merely to imitate their former home, imitating it without the slightest discrepancy.

Chen Shu saw a stone mountain, the stone mountain two thousand meters high, its circumference who knows how many kilometers, yet it was densely covered in copied scriptures, making one's mind involuntarily imagine the scene of a Buddha guarding here, using a finger to copy and carve scriptures onto the mountain body.

Day after day, year after year.

Book after book, time after time.

There was truly nothing else to do...

There were others, one place after another, one scene after another; even things left behind tens of thousands of years ago were still perfectly preserved by this space and this planet.

Watching these scenes, Chen Shu's heart was deeply shaken.

These were actually countless extremely dull days, left behind by gods who had endured them here, a tiny bit of imagery telling of those times, yet when combined, the shock it gave him was far greater than those impassioned and magnificent legendary epics.

"So they were just mortals too..."

Chen Shu could not help but sigh with emotion, and at the same time, he suddenly realized—

This plane core was originally a static world, empty of everything, approaching absolute zero; here, time itself did not even exist, and the only moving objects were the gods.

Six days were about to pass.

Yan Keling was preparing together with the exotic beasts and the Ninth-Tier creatures from another planet of this plane.

As a cultivator of the Imperial Sect, she would not only shoulder the task of communication between comrades-in-arms whose life forms were vastly different from two planets, but she would also fight alongside these Ninth-Tier beings from other stars, coordinating with each other—the Ninth-Rank Secret Technique developed by the Imperial Sect to compensate for the problem of lacking stamina in the later stages, as well as new technologies developed through years of exchange between the alien star system and human cultivators, would, with her help in coordinating with the cultivators of Earth, exert an effect where 1+1 is greater than 2 to a certain extent.

At the same time, on the other side, Little Master Xuanzhen kept his eyes tightly shut; before leaving this plane, he was using Plane Memory and the Summoning God Technique one last time to send an invitation to the strongest Ninth-Tier cultivator who had ever appeared on this planet in the past.

Like the Imperial Sect, the Daoist Summoning God Technique is also more powerful in the early stages and weaker in the later stages.

Especially upon reaching the Ninth Stage, no matter which Ninth-Tier you summon, it is impossible for them to be as powerful as they were when alive; yet if one cannot even compare to the strength of this Ninth-Tier who did not become a god and lagged behind the era, how can one compare to the top Ninth-tier of the same era?

The Daoist school also developed a solution for this.

That is the Double Summoning God Technique that can only be cultivated at the Ninth Stage.

The Summoning God Technique is mysterious and profound; not only will one temporarily obtain the other party's thinking, memories, combat techniques, and experience, but the body and Spirit Sea will also undergo corresponding changes. This provided the possibility for the concept of the Double Summoning God Technique. The prerequisite is that this Daoist cultivator must reach the Ninth Stage, be able to withstand the side effects of this process, and have a certain level of attainment in the Summoning God Technique, being able to see clearly enough, find accurately enough, and be able to find two people at the same time.

The Daoist school generally chooses two systems with the greatest differences and summons one from each.

Obtaining the body strength of a Ninth-Tier Martial Cultivator and the long-range combat capability of a Spirit Cultivator or Sword Cultivator, one is responsible for long-range strikes, the other for melee and defense, simultaneously taking the strengths of both sides and avoiding their weaknesses, while avoiding conflict or overlapping waste of abilities during the operation.

In this process, the practitioner must maintain consciousness to coordinate in the middle; this is where it differs from the ordinary Summoning God Technique.

Little Master Xuanzhen had been practicing for a long time.

But which two should he find? He was silent for a long time.

Finally, he made a decision.

At least make an attempt first—

That was the autumn of 5025, Nanzhou.

Cao Ci's avatar was already riddled with holes and tottering, but he still stood calmly between this heaven and earth, facing the gushing of power from another world.

If he did not Transform into Dao now, he would be completely eroded.

Suddenly, he remembered the fireworks set off on the isolated island last year.

He had heard Meng Jingming say it before, heard that monk and that Daoist all say how beautiful those fireworks were; he had always felt they were too fleeting, a momentary brilliance, quite uninteresting, but he did not expect that when dying, he would specifically remember the fireworks on that island on New Year's Eve last year.

Blooming one by one in the night sky, dimming in the blink of an eye.

How fleeting is life; shouldn't one also bloom once?

"Time to run..."

Cao Ci reminded this group of young people, then prepared to let himself bloom.

Thinking about it, these fireworks must be very brilliant.

Indeed, at that time, those fireworks were extremely brilliant.

It is a pity that no one could see them.

Little Master Xuanzhen kept in mind the final scene before the five senses disappeared; any moment found from history was never clearer than this moment seen with his own eyes.

In a trance, he seemed to have crossed time and space, returning once again to Nanzhou that year, his gaze meeting that broken figure.

"Disciple Xuanzhen, the 236th generation successor of the Daoist school, a student of Dharma Master Qianfa of Yuan'an Temple, my grandmaster is Changpei Zhenren; Senior Cao Ci, you have already passed away, and now we are going to an alien plane to compete for the origin with the Third Plane; if we succeed, the world will be at peace, if we fail, the plane will perish; I have heard that you were martial and combative your whole life, Senior, please lend your strength to this disciple, and help our plane win this final battle!"

"... So it failed after all?"

Cao Ci sighed leisurely.

That was the winter of 4778, and it was rare for it to snow on Yuding Mountain.

This planet had just ended one of its long world wars, and Dayi had also ushered in a rare peace.

Tianxing Zhenren, who created the great spell of the Thousand Machine Art and drew a clear line between modern cultivators and ancient cultivators, and who was hailed as the Sect Master of the Spirit Sect most likely to succeed the Spirit Saint, held a cup of hot tea, hiding from the snow under the eaves of Yuling Hall, quietly watching the snow dye the thousand mountains.

Having just returned to the sect after the war, he felt incomparably tranquil inside; standing there, he forgot the passage of time, and no one knew what he was thinking.

Historical records state that because he was forced to participate in the world war, with his hands covered in mountains of corpses and seas of blood, Tianxing Zhenren announced his seclusion upon returning to the Spirit Sect, never to appear in the world again. Thus, the gates of Yuling Hall remained closed for over a decade, and when news of him finally reached the world again, he had already suffered Spirit Decay and Transform into Dao.

Little Master Xuanzhen recalled the memoirs of Tianxing Zhenren's disciple in his mind, constructing an image of this predecessor and the Yuling Hall of that year; through history, he seemed to see him holding hot tea and feeling its warmth, with the steam from the tea still rising.

So it turned out that what he held in his heart was peace...

"Disciple Xuanzhen..."

When he opened his eyes again, his entire temperament had changed drastically; Cao Ci had brought him a silence as tyrannical as the ocean, while Tianxing Zhenren had brought him a vastness as gentle as the grasslands; within his Spirit Sea, a complex Thousand Machine Art was constructed, and his skin rapidly became hard.

On a high mountain not far away, Dharma Master Tongdeng sat cross-legged in silence, wearing a scarlet monk's robe and reciting scriptures, his body seemingly covered in a faint golden light.

And golden light continuously emerged from the void, as if appearing out of thin air, one after another, surging toward him.

In the outside world, northwest of Dayi.

The road was rarely traveled by people.

A barefoot monk wearing a bright red monk's robe, his head scorched dark and shiny by the sun, walked slowly along the road, the soles of his feet covered in dust.

His destination was the snow-capped mountain ahead; that snow mountain was a sacred mountain in the hearts of the locals, called Renke Sect, and there was a temple on the mountainside of Renke Sect—that was where he was going.

There was a Venerable in the temple whose virtue and knowledge were both extraordinary; to show his respect for the Venerable, he naturally ought to walk there step by step.

And so, step by step, he slowly approached it; Renke Sect, which looked as if it were right in front of him, required half a day of walking just to make it appear slightly larger in his eyes.

From time to time, vehicles of long-distance travelers whizzed past him, and some people stopped to ask where he was going, wanting to give him a ride or offer him water, all of which he politely declined with a smile.

Gradually, he reached the foot of the mountain.

Looking up, one could see Renke Sect and the temple on the mountainside.

The temple itself was not small, but Renke Sect was truly too magnificent; when so close, it filled his entire field of vision. The temple was situated halfway up the mountain; by comparison, it looked as small as a tiny sesame seed on a great mountain, and a small path wound its way from the bottom of the mountain all the way to the top. After the perspective was compressed, it looked like a path leading vertically into the sky—how could a person climb up it?

"Dong..."

The sound of a bell came from the temple.

The monk seemed to hear the sound of chanting in his ears, as fine as the buzzing of mosquitoes, continuous and unending.

Was he late?

The monk gazed at Chizhi Temple on the mountainside of Renke Sect and heard the bell sound again, long and unending; combined with the chanting in his ears, it made one's heart feel ethereal.

Another off-road vehicle whizzed over from behind, clearly slowing down, and stopped beside him.

A hand reached out of the car window, holding a bottle of water.

"Master, drink some water."

"..."

The monk's Mandarin was not good, his accent was very heavy, and it was difficult for others to understand when he spoke, so he simply stopped speaking, only smiling and waving his hand at the benefactor. After the vehicle left, he sat cross-legged by the side of the road, took off his prayer beads, and closed his eyes.

The Buddhist Sect emphasizes saving the world and delivering people.

Now was the time to save the world and deliver people.

"Dong... dong..."

The bell rang continuously, long and unceasing.

At this moment, his expression was incomparably peaceful, carrying a smile, without a trace of the melancholy of "seeking a great monk but failing to find one."

Along with the murmuring-like chanting, it was as if golden light drifted from his body, disappearing into the void, not knowing where it was headed.

At the same time, throughout the entire world, whether inside or outside Dayi, high monks stopped in their tracks, sat down on the spot, and recited the Buddhist Secret Method; countless temples, just like Chizhi Temple on the mountainside of Renke Sect, rang with long, lingering bell sounds.

At this moment, the bell sounds resonated throughout heaven and earth.

Countless pilgrims and tourists stopped, searching for the direction from which the bell sounds came.

The mental power of countless monks turned into firelight, dissipated into the void, and gathered in the place the gods called the "Hall," converging into the same lamp.

The golden light on Dharma Master Tongdeng grew increasingly intense.

Buddhist Secret Method, Ten Thousand Fires Same Lamp.

The Cultivation Spiritual Method of the Dayi Imperial Family also referenced the profound meanings of this Buddhist Secret Method; whenever the Ninth Stage descendants of Meng Yi neared Spirit Decay, they would voluntarily Transform into Dao, turning into a spark to melt into the lamp flame of the Meng Yi gods, making the Dayi Imperial Family, which was originally the shortest-lived, the most long-lasting after becoming gods.

It was still that same principle—

This was a war that could not be repeated; facing enemies in the darkness, there was no end to the pursuit of power.

Six days passed in the blink of an eye.

Above, the phantom of the Wuzong Emperor appeared once again, and appearing simultaneously with her was a Plane Channel connecting to a nearby Plane.

Everyone became serious, including the sand-sculpture group members.

"Fighting side by side with you all—"

It was still the Yi Emperor who stood out first, cupping his hands to all the participants and saying: "It is a great honor!"

As his voice fell, he flew up first once again.

Dense figures followed him.

Entering the Withered Plane.