Translator: Transn Editor: Transn
Chen Pipi looked like a harmless and adorable chubby man. But actually, he was an amazing fighter. That was why if there was something that could distract him for a second when he was determined to do something, that thing had to be something amazing.
When his large Academy uniform started to flutter without the wind, and when he raised his right arm and pointed his fingers, the skinny martial monk, who had silently guarded the middle-aged monk, appeared in front of his fingers. His face, which looked as if it were carved from steel, showed no expression.
Chen Pipi’s cultivation state was very high, but the martial monk could react faster, which meant that they had a plan. And he knew that the middle-aged monk would use a benevolent and cruel divine skill of the Buddhist Sect, the blood sacrifice to Buddha. This meant that, even if the middle-aged monk had not discovered that Ning Que had joined the Devil, he was prepared to use devil vanquishing methods on Ning Que to cripple him.
However, even if the skinny monk was prepared and could react quickly and move to stop Chen Pipi’s finger, he could not really stop the Natural Stream Magical Finger that came from the Academy’s no-boundary spirit. Even though his face and body looked as strong as steel, it was still mortal flesh.
The martial monk did not hesitate. He pulled out a sharp knife from his sleeves at the speed of lightning. But he did not stab at Chen Pipi, instead, he stabbed at his own abdomen viciously.
There was a tearing sound, like how a skin pouch full of water sounded when pierced by an arrow. The sharp knife was wedged deep into his belly. The martial monk’s face became pale, but his eyes remained determined. He did not hesitate and pulled the knife downward and the blood flowed out with a gushing sound.
The martial monk’s intestines flowed out along with the blood from the hole that the knife had made. The intestines emitted the stench of blood as well as his body heat.
The martial monk covered his wound with his left hand and cradled his intestines. He looked at Chen Pipi numbly, as if he could not feel the pain.
A drop of blood fell on Chen Pipi’s fingertips.
He stared at the scene before him with wide eyes, not knowing what the monk was about to do.
Chen Pipi had never killed anyone before. Nor had he even participated in a true battle or seen the life-and-death fight in a battle. He had not seen anything so bloody before.
He had only fought in the Winter Courtyard of the Chang’an Local Government with Wang Jinglue. He won easily thanks to his much higher cultivation state.
Chen Pipi had always thought that the battles between cultivators were as easy and casual as that. Until today, when the martial monk had torn open his abdomen and cradled his intestines, he had just understood that a true battle had nothing to do with one’s state or attitude or manners. It was only about victory and loss. Only life and death mattered.
The martial monk did not hesitate for one second to sacrifice himself to distract him and mess up his psyche. That was some kind of spirit—worthy of respect or even feeling scared.
The martial monk’s face became extremely pale. He looked at Chen Pipi calmly and said in a slightly trembling voice, “I have cut myself open. Please, Mr. Twelve, respect the rules.”
The two monks from Yuelun Kingdom were well-prepared for their meeting on the streets of Chang’an. They clearly knew the history of the Second Floor of the Academy, and knew that, in that place, rules did not matter. That was why they had not hesitated to sacrifice their lives to challenge their rule of not following rules.
The bloody scene in front of him and the pink intestines in the martial monk’s left hand were a shocking lesson to Chen Pipi. This shock might not be able to change the education about rules that he had received at the Academy, but it was sufficient to stun him for a moment.
This brief moment was more than enough.
Because the battle between the middle-aged monk and Ning Que would end within a second.
The middle-aged monk was strong, for he could rid demons by using his mind.
Chen Pipi’s fingers trembled in the morning breeze of Chang’an.
The middle-aged monk focused on Ning Que, and there was no need for him to have any defense. He just had to point at him, and that would be enough to kill Ning Que. However, he knew that the battle had ended, and Ning Que was dead. If his Younger Brother was dead, anything he did would be meaningless.
Chen Pipi’s face trembled and he looked extremely miserable.
He decided to kill the two monks in front of him,
even though he had guessed that there was something odd about the identity of the middle-aged monk,
and even though he had never killed anyone before.
In the Eldest Brother’s opinion, Ning Que did not look like someone who would have a short life, but he had now died.
Then why would they have to follow the rules of this world?
…
…
The fastest thing in the world was not fog or rain or wind, but lightning.
Mortals often used the word lightning to describe the psyche.
When one’s psyche moved, there was nothing that could catch it.
That was why many things could happen in the spiritual world in just a second.
When the middle-aged monk painted the blood on his face and used the blood to strengthen the Buddha skill, many shocking images were displayed, and changes happened in the space in which Ning Que’s psyche resided.
The 10-foot-high stone Buddha statue had been standing silently. After the stone rain, the line beneath his nose, which had not opened for a thousand years, suddenly opened, and then the Buddha had a mouth.
Two thick streams of blood flowed like molten iron from the mouth of the stone Buddha.
The two streams of blood did not drip to the ground. Instead, they ignored the laws of gravity and floated out in all directions. The bloody water gradually covered the huge Buddha’s face.
Many deep cracks appeared on the Buddha’s face, like dry cracking earth, as if it was engulfed in blood. However, when the cracks were soaked in blood, they looked more like the wounds of thousands of people.
There was a strong pressure coming from the stone Buddha, spreading throughout the space.
The stone Buddha’s stately face was covered with numerous tiny wounds. It should have looked gory when it was soaked in blood, but it seemed more merciful instead, as if the gold paint had flaked off, only leaving behind the vicissitudes of life.
The blood on the stone Buddha grew thicker and thicker, and so did the sense of grief. All negative emotions caused by wars, separation, and grief seemed to have been absorbed by the Buddha’s face,
leaving behind a clean and pure world.
The dirt and stones that fell from the sky were purified and turned into white holy lotus flowers, which washed over Ning Que’s body.
A petal silently landed on his cotton robes. However, it tore a wound on his body and fresh blood poured out like a bowl of overflowing hot-and-spicy shredded noodles.
Ning Que looked up at the sky and frowned slightly. He moved his psyche and applied the Great Spirit within his body. It burst out from the middle of his eyebrows and tore all the petals apart.
However, it was full of flowers. There were too many lotus flowers. How could he be able to keep them all suspended in the air?
The lotus flowers bloomed, and the petals fell onto his face and body. They tore open his cotton robes and wormed into his skin, cutting his flesh open and revealing bones.
An endless pain drilled into his bones and blood. And then, they burst forth toward every inch of his body, and then into his brain. It shocked his sense of perception and gave him extreme pain.
The blood sacrifice to Buddha was a very powerful art of the Buddhist Sect.
The stone Buddha, with blood on his face after the shower of flowers, actually represented dedicating oneself to Buddhism.
Dedicating oneself to Buddhism and temporarily creating a pure land of lotuses, purging it of devils and evils—these means surpassed the scope of ordinary Buddhist rites and were the acts of wonder in the supermundane world.
Only disciples with great perseverance, determination, mercy, and evil could enter this state.
Even Chen Pipi, who had entered the Knowing Destiny State, would get in great trouble if he were trapped in this pure land of lotuses by the Bhadanta of the Buddhist Sect, so he had to treat this carefully.
And Ning Que had only entered the Seethrough State at the Daming Lake.
At his current cultivation and emotional state, he would not be able to escape the skies filled with lotus flowers.
…
…
The rain of lotus flowers revealed a clear intention to kill.
Ning Que looked at the stone Buddha in the distance through the curtain of blood dripping from his lashes. He asked after a brief silence, “You had planned to kill me since we began. It had nothing to do with me representing the Academy to enter the Human Realm, and had nothing to do with you knowing that I have joined the Devil in the Wilderness. You just want to kill me. I do not understand, even if you were really a supermundane being from the Xuankong Temple, could you really bear the consequences of killing me?”
The giant stone Buddha seemed to be smiling happily and crying sadly at the same time with blood dripping from its mouth. He did not answer Ning Que, but just remained silent.
“This is a duel that took place in Chang’an. I killed you in a fair duel. There won’t be any trouble. The Tang are all concerned about their reputation, and the Academy is even more so. They would not dare to anger Yuelun, much less the Buddhist Sect. On the contrary, they would remain silent to save their reputation.”
The middle-aged monk’s voice rang out from the rain of flowers.
“Furthermore, I have confirmed that Mr. Thirteen, you have joined the Devil.”
Ning Que, who was covered in blood, looked in the direction of where that voice had come from and asked harshly, “You were prepared to kill me before you found out that I have joined the Devil. Why? What have I done to the Buddhist Sect to anger them that a Bhadanta like you would vow to go to Chang’an to kill me?”
“I have said, ‘You insulted Aunt in the Wilderness. You have insulted the Yuelun Kingdom and the Buddhist Sect’.”
Ning Que said sarcastically, “I used to think that most of the people on earth were idiots. I didn’t expect someone to treat me like an idiot. How can that old hag, Quni Madi, be a proper reason for the Buddhist Sect to offend the Tang Empire and the Academy?”
The middle-aged monk said calmly and firmly, “There are, of course, other reasons. But you have been doomed since you insulted Aunt in the Wilderness.”
Ning Que wiped the blood from his face. When his sleeves rubbed over the deep gouges made by the lotus flowers, he felt an unbearable stinging pain, but he smiled.
“Do you really think that your surname is Yang?”
Ning Que laughed his head off. He looked at the stone Buddha outside of the rain of flowers. He rubbed away his tears and blood and said while laughing, “If all this turns out to be a romance drama, I’ll be very disappointed.”
“There are many things in the world that you do not know.”
“If so, can you tell me?”
“No. You have joined the Devil, so all I have to do is kill you.”
The voice of the middle-aged monk sounded to be extraordinarily ethereal in the rain of lotus flowers, and then it turned into confusion.
“Two generation of Academy disciples entering the Human Realm have joined the Devil one after another. Could this be the will of Haotian, or be the way that fate works?”
Ning Que did not notice the doubts hidden in the voice of the middle-aged monk outside of the rain of flowers.
He focused on the lotus rain.
He looked at the lotus petals that had fallen in front of and on him and remembered the dream that he had a long time ago. He thought of Sangsang’s pale white feet and the countless nights that he had been kicked by those little feet that were as white as lotuses. He started to feel sorrow, and then he began to feel angry.
“I don’t care how many reasons you have to kill me. But since you know that I have joined the Devil, and have made so many pairs of my Sangsang’s feet to kick me, I will definitely kill you.”
He retrieved the big black umbrella from his back and opened it.
The umbrella was like a black lotus flower and was exceptionally eye-catching in the rain of white lotus flowers.
He held the umbrella and stood in the lotus rain, looking at the stone Buddha afar, whose face was covered in blood.
He looked like a tourist holding a paper umbrella in the drizzle, admiring the willows on the other side of a river.
Then, he said, “Buddha, I am coming to kill you.”
…
