Chapter 709: Believers

Chapter 709: Believers

Li Huowang, his upper body bared, gasped in agony, each breath a struggle against the torment that wracked his flesh.

He watched helplessly as his own body split open and closed again, yet could do nothing to stop it. Sweat, born from pain, trickled down into the gashes in his flesh, causing his body to twitch with each wave of anguish.

He had endured worse pain before, but those sensations were fleeting. This was different—it lingered, growing stronger with each passing moment.

Bai Lingmiao tried to intervene, attempting spirit possession and exorcism rituals, summoning whatever forces she could, but none of it helped Li Huowang.

Li Huowang knew it was useless. The torment came not from mere spirits, but from Sisheng Ba Hui himself. These common practitioners were nothing to him.

As the ascension steps increased, his body had initially become more sensitive, healing faster than ever. But clearly, Ba Hui no longer merely waited for him to harm himself—he wanted to do it himself.

It was said that once one reached a certain level of ascension, they would become Ba Hui's heart coil. It seemed Li Huowang was nearing that point.

Judging by current circumstances, if he truly became Ba Hui’s heart coil, the pain would never cease—wrapping him entirely in torment.

“What? You think you can steal the heart coil from Ji Zai? Still refusing to accept your fate?” Li Huowang asked the pain burning through his body.

Pain, after all, had no voice. He sat there talking to himself, his consciousness already clouded by the relentless agony.

Fortunately, this sensation didn’t last long. After two incense sticks had burned, the wounds on his body quickly sealed.

“I... I need a rest.” Exhausted by the pain, Li Huowang slumped backward and instantly fell into a deep sleep. He was utterly drained.

Bai Lingmiao approached, her heart aching at the sight of him. She fetched a basin of warm water, dipped a cloth in it, wrung it out, and began wiping his body clean.

In just moments, the wounds had scabbed over. As Bai Lingmiao wiped, the crusts peeled away like falling leaves.

Li Sui’s tentacles reached around from behind, using their suction cups to gently pull off all the scabs. Soon, Bai Lingmiao heard the soft crackling sounds from behind.

After washing Li Huowang’s feet, Bai Lingmiao covered him warmly and turned to leave.

“Sui Sui, your father is exhausted today. Stay with him and take care of him well. Don’t let anyone disturb him.”

“Okay.” Standing tall and graceful, Li Sui walked to the bedside, opened her small cherry lips, and from within emerged writhing tendrils that swiftly slipped under the covers.

When Bai Lingmiao saw Li Sui folding herself neatly like a piece of clothing onto the headboard, she quietly left the room.

“Li Huowang’s got it rough now. If this trouble isn’t resolved, this torment might follow him for life.”

Hearing the voices in her mind, Bai Lingmiao remained silent and continued walking forward.

Soon, she entered a narrow alley crowded with people. Wooden doors were adorned with lotus paintings or hanging lotuses, and banners fluttered beneath eaves. This was a place of the White Lotus Sect.

Under the white lotus, all were equal. Those who remained here were not poor or blessed—they were devout believers.

Through gaps in the doors, she could see people silently kneeling on the ground in worship.

Anyone passing by Bai Lingmiao bowed respectfully and stood aside.

She soon arrived in a hall filled with candles. At its center stood a twin lotus glowing with white light, illuminating the entire chamber as if it were day.

Bai Lingmiao knelt upon a mat, hands clasped in prayer toward the white lotus. “O Great Compassionate Mother of the Unborn, I beseech you to free my elder brother Li from suffering.”

The light of the lotus subtly shifted, as though something had changed, yet nothing had.

After prolonged silent prayer, Bai Lingmiao opened her eyes and looked at the lotus. “I vow to abandon everything and serve you for all eternity. May the Mother of the Unborn have mercy on us.”

“I am willing to recite your sutras ten thousand times, with utmost sincerity and reverence.”

“But you promised me once—if you ever scheme against me in this matter, I will make you regret it.”

With a soft, sweet voice, Bai Lingmiao bowed three times and prostrated nine times before the twin lotus.

Suddenly, the lotus blazed brighter, a beam of light shooting into Bai Lingmiao’s brow. Instantly, she felt compassion flood her heart, and all other emotions faded.

In the white void, Bai Lingmiao saw something—Li Huowang, distorted and abstract.

On his left, a crimson mass surged. On his right, another Li Huowang emerged from his palm. This version was strange; it had no back, only front faces.

The double-faced Li Huowang pulled at the middle Li Huowang, the force increasing with each tug. Eventually, the original Li Huowang was torn apart.

As Bai Lingmiao awoke from her vision, she understood what the Mother of the Unborn had meant.

This seemed like a prophecy or revelation. Li Huowang could no longer use the Aojing sect’s magic, especially not continue ascending. If he did, he might truly split in two!

“Thank you, compassionate Mother of the Unborn. I am grateful,” Bai Lingmiao said, bowing again in reverence before heading to Li Huowang’s bedroom.

But just as she stepped out of the alley, she saw the weary Lü Xiucai approaching.

“Mother,” he bowed his head to her.

Seeing his broken fingers, Bai Lingmiao gave him a brief warning about not using the Great Record again, then hurried away.

Watching Bai Lingmiao leave, Lü Xiucai entered a modest house in the alley. He respectfully picked up three incense sticks, bowed before the white lotus painting on the wall, and lit them in the incense burner. Then, he prostrated himself before the image, motionless.

“I, Lü Xiucai, have decided. I shall live unmarried and childless, avoid meat and gold, and offer my body to endure the three calamities and three tribulations for the Mother of the Unborn.”

As he spoke, a middle-aged woman emerged from the corner. It was Lian Zhibei, who had once found Bai Lingmiao.

She stripped Lü Xiucai’s clothes off, revealing his back scarred with wounds.

Before the lotus painting, she took out a tattoo needle and began marking his back.

When the color seemed too faint, Lian Zhibei rubbed the needle against the white lotus in the mural, then resumed tattooing.

Each prick of the needle made Lü Xiucai’s face pale with pain, but he didn’t dare move. He bit his lip tightly, enduring every sting.

(End of Chapter)