Chapter 335: Collapse

Chapter 335: Collapse

"Master Xinchi, are you certain you haven't made another mistake this time?"

Perhaps the Heavenly Observing Bureau could slaughter innocents in the name of duty, but Li Huowang could never reconcile himself with that.

As soon as Li Huowang spoke, the little girl who had been bowing before the Buddha shrank back in fear, leaving only her clothes behind.

"Erjiu! Why did you not listen to this old monk's words?" Li Huowang sneered at the figure before him, now resembling an angry wrathful deity, as he stepped forward with his sword drawn and drove it into the yellow cushion with a violent thrust. A pitiful yelp, like that of a dog in pain, erupted from the seat, followed by a steady stream of crimson blood gushing forth.

The thing hadn't left—it had simply shrunk to an impossibly small and flat form, hiding itself within the cushion.

"Master Xinchi, if you were always so accurate, I wouldn't have to guess on my own."

He didn’t want to be used as a tool by others, especially someone as repulsive as this one.

Seeing the tension between the two, Ji Xiang quickly intervened.

"Enough! I'm still alive! You little brats behave yourselves! Don't forget why I called you here!"

Though Ji Xiang always appeared smiling and affable, neither Li Huowang nor Master Xinchi believed he was a soft target anyone could manipulate. When he spoke, they both fell silent.

Time passed slowly. Soon, they had spent half a day wandering through the Bone Temple, yet aside from the ambush earlier, they had found nothing.

It was unclear whether the Seatless Daoists had already departed or if they were deliberately avoiding them.

Despite the long wait, the leader Ji Xiang showed no signs of anxiety. Instead, his eyes grew brighter and more intense.

This confirmed Li Huowang’s earlier suspicion—Ji Xiang had ulterior motives for coming to the temple.

Just as they entered another hall filled with mummified remains, Ji Xiang suddenly broke into a wild expression of joy.

With his fingers tapping faster than ever, they became blurred streaks, sparks flying off the abacus.

"Come quickly!"

Ji Xiang stepped in rhythm across the marble floor. After circling three times in an intricate pattern, the seated image of a Bodhisattva painted on a pillar began to move on its own.

Li Huowang’s heart sank with certainty: "I was right! This Ji Xiang came here looking for something! The so-called cleansing of the Seatless Daoists was just a side matter!"

Then, the serene and emotionless image of the Buddha on the pillar rapidly aged and withered, turning into a mummy within moments.

The mummy's hands reached into its ribcage and slowly tore open its own chest cavity.

But when Ji Xiang, still beaming with delight, looked up at the mummy’s image on the pillar, he froze.

The abdomen of the painting was empty—nothing there.

"Where is Xin Zhuo? Did someone beat us to it? That shouldn’t be possible. Only I know this place."

Xin Zhuo?

Hearing the word “heart” in the name, Li Huowang—who was himself a Heart Spirit—reacted instinctively.

"Could there be other Heart Spirits like me? If the Heart Spirit represents confusion, what are their side effects?"

Before he could ask Tuoba Danqing beside him, a deep, resonant sound echoed through the air, causing everyone to look up toward the ceiling beams.

Before anyone could react, Hong Da, dressed as a beggar, suddenly spoke, "Run! The hall is collapsing!"

At that moment, a thunderous crash shook the air. The massive beam, weighing thousands of pounds, crashed down with a tremendous force.

A deafening explosion followed, sending clouds of dust into the sky, engulfing everything.

"Pain." That was all Li Huowang could feel—every part of his body ached.

The thick mist obscured his vision, making it impossible to tell where he was. He tried to move, but felt as though he were pinned down by a weight of a thousand tons.

Just as he pondered how to escape, the sound of falling debris filled the air. Amidst the swirling dust, a sturdy silhouette emerged before him.

Once the man lifted the heavy beam off Li Huowang’s body, the young man finally felt able to move again.

He crawled out from beneath the rubble, brushed off the dust, and said to the man, "Thank you, Brother Tuoba."

Tuoba Danqing, equally covered in grime, lowered the beam from his shoulder. "Oh, what are you talking about? We’ve shared wine and women together—we’re brothers, after all. How could I let you die?"

"Are you okay? Where are the others? This collapse must be the work of the Seatless Daoists," Tuoba Danqing also shook the dust off his clothes.

Li Huowang nodded. "Who would disagree? But..." he subtly moved away from Tuoba Danqing by a few inches, keeping his face turned toward him.

While they talked, a movement in the distance beyond the mist caught their attention. A towering figure emerged from the fog—it was Master Xinchi.

His expression darkened upon seeing the two standing together.

With a thick finger, he pointed sharply at Li Huowang.

In the next instant, Tuoba Danqing seemed to hear something in his ear and took several steps backward, quickly creating distance between himself and Li Huowang.

The three formed a triangle, with Master Xinchi and Tuoba Danqing now staring intently at Li Huowang.

Li Huowang immediately realized that the monk had whispered something in Tuoba Danqing’s ear using his mind-reading ability.

Just as they prepared to attack, Li Huowang addressed Tuoba Danqing, "Brother Tuoba, you can suspect me of being a Seatless Daoist, but why don’t you question whether this Xinchi is real?"

"Stop deceiving us. The Seatless Daoists wouldn’t possess mind-reading powers!" Tuoba Danqing, once so eager, now sounded coldly dismissive.

"The Seatless Daoists don’t lack anything—they steal others’ abilities!" Li Huowang’s face twisted with rage as he drew his sword.

"We knew you’d try to sow discord. But Lord Ji Xiang calculated that even if you gained the power, it would take three hours to master it. So he’s real, and you’re not."

Faced with false accusations, Li Huowang’s fury could no longer be contained.

"He’s clearly a fake!" Just as Li Huowang pointed his sword at the monk, a familiar voice rang in his ears—the monk’s mind-reading ability.

"No, I am the real one. And I know you are too. But now, what I say is truth. Whoever I call a fake is a fake."

"What?!" Li Huowang’s pupils dilated in disbelief as he stared at the monk.

He had considered many possibilities, but never imagined he would be betrayed by his own people!

"You’re fighting among yourselves now? Are you insane? Because I said something to you earlier?"

Master Xinchi curled his lips slightly, then quickly returned to his expressionless state. "Yes, I’m petty indeed."

With that, he stamped his foot and charged forward alongside Tuoba Danqing, attacking Li Huowang from two sides.

"You lunatic!" Li Huowang roared, his voice cracking with fury. With a desperate resolve, he drew his Purple Ear Sword and rushed toward the monk.

As he closed in, a flash of cold light pierced through the mist, aiming straight for his neck.

It was a rusted short blade, wielded by Hong Da, the Knife Merchant.

Surrounded by three enemies, Li Huowang found himself in a desperate situation.

"What is going on?! Did they discover my identity?! Was this all a trap laid for me?!"