The young Da Yue Yaochang had bronze skin and no scars on his body yet, looking young and robust, like a young tiger.
He harbored great animosity towards Simon, but surprisingly, he didn't immediately yell for a fight or to kill.
"Are you going to go easy on me?"
The young man snorted at the words, "A mere Lu Yuan, I'm just afraid of accidentally killing a good demon! Let me observe you for a few days, and after I determine your good and evil, I will make a new decision."
At this time, Da Yue Yaochang was righteous, noble, and tenacious, truly a shining pearl. As for the berserk War God he later became, no one knows how much hardship and sorrow he experienced in between.
At this moment, the epiphyllum Mirror appeared, and Taiwu Xixi and others emerged in single file.
The great lake where the Sword Tomb was located had turned into a flat wasteland. Such a feat of changing the terrain couldn't help but remind people of the Small Sumeru standing in the Snowy Region, which was the relic of the Buddhist Son's divine palm.
Bai Zimo's brows relaxed slightly as he greeted Da Yue Yaochang. The swordsman's proud and unyielding spirit greatly resonated with this little outsider, causing him to put away his broadsword.
Bai Zimo said, "Out of the seven Sword Tombs, only the last one remains. Once this battle is over, it will likely be time for Xiangxu to emerge."
Taiwu Xixi nodded, "Indeed, I have a premonition that we are almost at the end."
The Taoist bowed to Simon, "I humbly request the Buddhist Son to wait seven days. This humble Taoist has an important matter to complete before all the Sword Tombs are unsealed."
Simon knew Wang Ping'an's intentions perfectly well and warned him, "Do you know what the consequences of this are? For ordinary people, it might be fine, but Taishi's soul is, after all, unusual. Forcibly summoning the protection of a past life might cause unforeseen variables. If she is no longer herself then, what will you do?"
Wang Ping'an calmly said, "Her safety is the most important thing."
Taiwu Xixi was silent, watching Simon nod in agreement to the Taoist's request.
The young lady watched Wang Ping'an walk step by step towards her. She forced a smile and said, "Can you bear my destiny?"
"I can."
"But I don't want to disturb her."
"You are her, what's the difference?"
"You need to know the worst outcome."
Wang Ping'an revealed a confident smile, but with no joy in his eyes, "All true inheritors of my Ran Mountain gain the good fortune of their past lives. By the power of the Samsara Platform, they summon gods and drive away ghosts, meeting no obstacles. There have been no mistakes for thousands of years, so don't worry, just treat it as seven days of meditation."
One of the highest achievements in the art of numerology—the Samsara Platform.
Through sacrificial rites, it recalls the blessings of past lives, enhancing aptitude, elevating cultivation, and possessing extraordinary spiritual efficacy.
With each additional reincarnation, the power of karmic feedback increases. The stronger the past life, the greater the effect.
This is a power that defies fate.
Wang Ping'an was highly regarded by the Buddhist Son and had already been designated as the next Qinglang Master of Ran Mountain. Moreover, Taiwu Xixi was already a favorite by the Buddhist Son's side, with hopes of becoming the fifteenth Venerable. The people of Ran Mountain were eager to curry favor. Therefore, allowing the young lady to use the Samsara Platform once would not be met with any criticism.
In the Stargazing Cave of Xuanxian Peak, Ran Mountain, where the Samsara Platform was located.
The contemporary Qinglang Master Ma Zhen presided over the ceremony, with Sect Master Uncle Zhizhengzi, along with three immortal masters and eight Qinglang guardians, all participating. Such a scene was unprecedented.
Wang Ping'an stood outside the cave, observing. His master stroked his three-strand long beard and chatted idly with him.
"Little Ping'an, have you learned any moves or techniques from the Buddhist Son?"
"No." The ceremony inside the cave began.
Magical artifacts chimed in unison, prayers boomed, blending into a cacophony of sound that rolled through the cave, crashing against the crevices of the mountain. The entire Xuanxian Peak seemed like a giant instrument, blaring powerful notes that echoed far away.
The old Taoist 'tsk'ed', "Your little lady's martial arts aren't up to par. Is she the contemporary Taishi?"
"Asking the obvious."
"Hey! Kid, how dare you speak to your master like that! I ask you, why couldn't you just let that Buddhist Son solve Xiangxu alone? At most, just give him the Fu Yu Divine Sword."
"The Fu Yu Divine Sword has only one Sword Master. A successor can only take over after the previous one dies."
"Alas, you guys following the Buddhist Son won't have any accidents. Just recite a few more 'Namo Luyuan Bodhisattva' in kindness from the side."
Wang Ping'an scoffed, "Old man, you don't understand the Buddhist Son at all."
"You mean the Buddhist Son isn't actually a good person?"
"I mean you shouldn't rashly discuss Bodhisattvas." Wang Ping'an rubbed his hands. Taiwu Xixi had already entered meditation. "The Buddhist Son is, of course, very compassionate, but his level is too high. We are like a nest of ants. The Buddhist Son pities us and wants to move us all to a new nest before building a house. Since he has already built the new ant nest, we just need to obediently move over. As for any problems that arise midway, they are all our own fault."
The old Taoist squinted, "But I see that the so-called Duanye Evil Buddha might not be unrelated to Namo Luyuan Bodhisattva."
"Ants who don't think about self-reliance and just wait for food to be delivered are inherently deserving of death."
Wang Ping'an saw through everything.
The Buddhist Son had actually never hidden anything. A high and mighty, yet compassionate, chess player—this was the Taoist's view of Simon.
The more he understood Xiangxu, the more he liked the Buddhist Son.
Xiangxu wanted to devour all the chess pieces, while the Buddhist Son intended to directly change the chessboard. The two sides were not on the same level to begin with.
Wang Ping'an put his palms together in reverence, "Namo Luyuan Bodhisattva, bless my wife Taiwu Xixi with safety."
Ping'an, Xixi.
...
On a small boat tossed by wind and rain.
Taiwu Xixi watched a woman standing at the bow, chatting and laughing with her Grandfather.
The woman looked exactly like the young lady, and the old man didn't realize that it wasn't Fu Xixi.
Taiwu Xixi shouted, but no sound came out.
She tried to move, but couldn't, not even her gaze could shift.
She was familiar with every object in the small boat. She carefully examined her surroundings and only then realized that she had become the Mazu statue in the boat's shrine.
Dark clouds like night, sudden rain and raging waves, a large expanse of golden light flickered at the crest of the tide, and several lion-faced dragons flew out, tearing the small boat to shreds with a single lunge.
Fu Xixi watched Grandfather disappear into the deep sea. His old, veined arms futilely grasped a few times, but what they called forth was the biting of the dragons. Blood mixed with seawater, washing over the Mazu statue. Taiwu Xixi could almost taste that despair.
And that woman, she stood on the head of a dragon, her face blurred amidst the thunder and lightning.
...
The young lady sat under the eaves, a group of nuns sweeping the courtyard.
Leaves fell from the trees in the courtyard, these fluttering yellow leaves were like bead curtains, like drapes. Through this intermittent barrier, one could see the bhikshunis in green robes moving with brooms. What were they doing?
Sweeping the floor?
Gathering natural objects and returning them to nature, what was the meaning?
Taiwu Xixi pondered deeply.
Were their actions a waste of time?
But the nunnery was man-made, so activities within man-made things seemed quite normal, inherently unnatural...
What is nature?
...
Mountains rose.
The sea flooded.
Taiwu Xixi shivered, seeing the glaciers moving across the sky, those bodies, even within the thick dark ice, still so familiar.
Grandfather, Ping'an, Zimo, the Buddhist Son, the little outsiders.
The waiters, chefs, and shopkeepers of the restaurant.
Her classmates from the culinary academy.
Pedestrians occasionally met on the road.
And herself.
Gazing at death with a body of death.
...
"How much did you understand?"
Taiwu Xixi stared blankly at the woman in front of her.
She was so tall.
A woman, perfectly like a celestial being. Was she, or It?
So much like the Buddhist Son.
The woman asked again.
Taiwu Xixi shook her head blankly.
"Then you are useless."
The woman sneered, and Fu Xixi fell into darkness, surrounded by mud.
-------------------------------
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