Chapter 622: The Long Night Fades Away (1)

Chapter 622: The Long Night Fades (I)

The Ink-Riding Whale trumpeted, descending upon the towering divine peak in a massive roc form, its wings trembling and whipping up a fierce, raging wind.

Cuiwei Cloud Tower crumbled and razed, its collapse nearly total, and the deity seated aloft finally revealed a human visage.

The horizon stretched wide, each person occupying their own sector.

At the center, clad in a crimson Dharma robe, Dazhao Temple's Longsheng and Baima Temple's Yiyi hovered side by side, their expressions cold and eyes glinting with ferocity.

Not far off stood the sole visible Han Chinese Buddhist patriarch of Hanshan Temple, Elder Yuan, his brows snow-white, ears hanging to his shoulders; merely by appearance he resembled a proper cultivated Taoist monk.

Several dozen zhang away, two figures stood, their faces indistinct and gender ambiguous, robed in antiquated black garments, high-crowned and sash-adorned, like ancient scholars.

Li Jun and Chen Qisheng did not recognize these two, yet Zou Si Jiu instantly recognized them; they hailed from the Eastern Emperor's Palace, held high status, likely among the leading 'Nine Lords' of the third rank.

Near them stood an exceptionally rotund, plump man.

Indeed, this was the agrarian patriarch 'Zhiyin' Feiyu, who had conspired with Tianchang to ambush Li Jun in Xin'an City.

Both sides positioned across heaven and earth, their gazes like arrows, intersecting and moving back and forth.

Li Jun wore his killing intent unmasked, his sharp eyes sweeping left to right before settling on Feiyu.

The latter, equally unyielding, stared back with hollow eyes, his gaze void of fear, filled only with anger and hatred.

He thrust his hand into the layered flesh of his chest, extracting a sphere like an eyeball, and bit it fiercely.

Filth splattered as Feiyu expelled a thick tongue, licking clean; the tongue bore tiny, miniature faces, offering a mocking sneer toward Li Jun.

Beneath his silver helmet, Chen Qisheng's face remained calm, his nascent spirit tightly locking onto Elder Yuan.

In his perception, this compassionate Han Buddhist patriarch posed a far greater threat than either Longsheng or Yiyi.

On the other side, Zou Si Jiu, equally focused, released the aura of a third-rank dream master, hands in pockets, nostrils aimed at the two from the Eastern Emperor's Palace.

His haughty spirit surged, restless, ready to dream-venture at any moment.

At this tense, imminent clash, the first to speak, breaking the silence, was an overlooked individual.

“Li Jun, this humble Taoist came on the master’s command to congratulate you on your promotion to third rank.”

Zhang Chongcheng stood far from the others, beyond the shared line of sight.

Li Jun turned at the sound, seeing Zhang Chongcheng smile and bow respectfully toward him.

“Master Zhang said, if you have time, hope you ascend to Longhu Mountain once more. This time Master Zhang asks no grudges, only discourse on Heaven and the Way.”

Zhang Chongcheng's tone seemed steady, yet his speech was rapid, finishing his words in just three phrases.

“The words are delivered; I shall take my leave now.”

Zhang Chongcheng finished speaking without waiting for Li Jun's reply, and a blade of light ignited beneath his feet as he shot away.

Amidst the dazzling flame at the sword's tail, a trembling, shabby silhouette emerged, as if a ravenous flood beast pursued relentlessly behind.

Meanwhile, the celestial track star hanging in the firmament dimmed swiftly, vanishing into night.

This scene was oddly comic, yet none present could laugh.

“Indeed, a cultivator sees life, death, fortune, and misfortune with crystal clarity.”

Elder Yuan of Hanshan Temple pressed his palms together, sighed, then turned to Li Jun, saying, “Venerable Sir.”

“Damn it, you son of a bitch of a master.”

The sudden cut of his words made Elder Yuan's eyes narrow, as Li Jun extended a finger, pointing at himself.

“I already said it; if you don't want to die, get out now.”

Elder Yuan gave a resigned smile, lowered his brows, avoided eye contact, yet his figure remained steadfast.

“Li Jun, you are too brazen!”

Longsheng roared angrily, “With so many third-rank ones present, how can the three of you hold us back?”

Longsheng leapt again, eyebrows furrowed, eyes fierce, starkly contrasting the Buddhist patriarch.

Yet beneath his volatile temper lay a delicate, mirror-like mind.

Today anyone could flee, except him.

Others, even if they forfeit this chance, may simply cease promotion, and with decades before the 'Five Calamities of Heaven and Man' arrive, they have ample time.

But he cannot; if Yuan Mingfei unlocks promotion smoothly, achieving the second fruit of the Buddhist path, his fate is equally a dead end.

Rather than sit and wait for death, he should seize the moment, with his side numerous, and make a bold move.

This is Longsheng's true thought; moreover, he believes that a single Xin'an granary nearly trapped Li Jun, and even if he attains a solitary martial third rank now, how far could he truly go?

“Fish and net break, harming all; Li Jun, if you are willing to hand over Yuan Mingfei, any condition can be discussed.”

Longsheng's thoughts whirled in his mind, still calculating how to bargain with Li Jun, when a sudden flash of black-red lightning appeared in his eyes.

Boom!

The guardian deity kneeling on the ground was stomped into shattered debris by Li Jun, thunder echoing in all directions, charging toward Longsheng.

His motion was like a tiger entering the forest, instantly scattering a flock of birds.

Feiyu smiled coldly, his form dissolving into falling oil and blood, merging into the blood-soaked fields covering the mountain.

The two Eastern Emperor's Palace members' wide robes fluttered in the wind, becoming indistinct, not solid at all.

“Longsheng, be careful!”

White Horse Buddha Patriarch Yiyi's face shifted abruptly; he warned, then hastily withdrew.

Longsheng instinctively tried to dodge, but too late; a pair of burning, fierce eyes suddenly pressed before his own.

The martial man was close; the immortal and Buddha could not escape.

Longsheng's eyes snapped open, and within his pupils a phantom of the Buddhist realm rapidly coalesced.

In an instant, a savage, ferocious aura struck his face like a ferocious beast, and Longsheng felt his inner wisdom root quake uncontrollably, as if confronted by a celestial foe.

The impending Buddhist realm thus shattered, and Longsheng could only watch helplessly as a pair of clearly jointed hands drew nearer.

In midair, Li Jun gripped Longsheng's throat tightly, raising a single arm.

The monk, enveloped at close range by the 'defeating the enemy' martial art, had no recourse, thrashing like an ordinary man in Li Jun's grasp, legs kicking wildly, hands clutching his tiger mouth.

“The Buddha of Dazhao Temple, you are just such a thing?”

“Even if placed among the third-rank victims I have slain, you are not top-tier, yet you dare to cause trouble here?”

“Release the man!”

Another Buddhist realm surged forth.

Yet the rescuer Yiyi was shocked to find that, within his own Buddhist realm, Li Jun's form was absent; only the distorted visage of Longsheng was locked.

A nightmarish tableau of devouring heart and spirit unfolded in Longsheng's mind; already bereft of composure, he was further tormented, sinking instantly into an endless illusion, seized by demonic warriors into the deepest depths of the abyss.

Though Yiyi's condition was amiss, he instantly released his Buddhist realm, but Longsheng's consciousness had already collapsed, his eyes rolling back, his pupils filled with blood.

In the next moment, wisdom roots resembling tree tendrils burst from his eyes, nearly tearing his entire facial bone away, twisting violently within his skull.

An aura of utter madness unfurled before Li Jun.

Li Jun furrowed his brows in an instant, the scene suddenly evoking memories of the Xin'an training grounds.

Yet astonishment aside, Li Jun suppressed the thought of distancing himself from Long Sheng, lifted his hand to grasp the twisting root of wisdom, and, amid a chilling, stinging crackle, he forcefully yanked it free.

The root coiled around his wrist, attempting to pierce Li Jun's skin and burrow into his body.

Li Jun watched, his heart sinking.

He had pulled many such roots before, but this malevolent one was a first.

What set it apart from the filthy things that sprouted in the State Farm?

Even more unsettling was the thought that Lin Jiapo's legacy to Yuan Mingfei might harbor such a thing!

Bang!

Li Jun clenched his fingers, and with crushing force, shattered Long Sheng's root into a mire of mud.

[Earned 120 mastery points]

[Remaining mastery points: 402]

[Spent 300 mastery points, upgraded the Fourth Rank of the Granary Technique to Grand Completion]

[Divine Spirit (martial skill) acquired]

Black letters appeared before his eyes, and the Fourth Rank of the Granary Technique finally reached its full point.

Combined with the techniques of "Eating the Dragon and Tiger" and "Caged Official Method", these martial arts fused into a new skill, the Divine Spirit.

"Master Li"

Qian Zu, the chief monk of Hanshan Temple, stood afar, having released his clasped hands, watching Li Jun in silence.

"Clad in the skin of a Buddha, harboring a Buddha's heart, yet you do the dirty deeds of betraying your own people."

Li Jun scoffed, "Do you not fear that the State will turn you into a ghost as well?"

"Entering is death, retreating is death; we have long had no choice left."

"Does a Buddha fear death?" Li Jun taunted.

"A Buddha speaks not of life or death."

Qian Zu replied calmly, "We are merely followers of the Buddha, death is inevitable. But the Buddhist order cannot be extinguished; this erroneous path must be corrected by us."

"Yuan Mingfei is not the Buddhist order; why can't she ascend, why must she become your stepping stone?"

Qian Zu answered without hesitation, "She cultivates herself, not the countless monks; as a mere mortal, she cannot save the Buddhist order."

"She fails; could you, for the love of God, succeed?"

Li Jun laughed in disbelief, "Ah, I understand now; only you can become a Buddha, all others are demons, right?" "Your dog‑shit doctrines have worn me out."

Li Jun's gaze tightened, "I still say the same: if you survive today, you become a Buddha instantly; if not, choose one of the six realms of reincarnation to jump into."

"Master Li!"

Qian Zu's voice suddenly deepened, "If you will grant us a way out, I can help you slaughter the State's agricultural order!"

"Qian Zu, speaking these words before me is not proper, is it?"

In the blood‑filled fields covering the mountain, Fei Yi's silhouette appeared once more.

His lower half was submerged in flesh, only the upper half, piled with fat, protruded from the mountain, laughing upward at Qian Zu.

"When you and the Six Ancestors of the Spirit Mountain stepped forward to beg the State to help, you were not like this fierce, murderous face; why have you turned away so quickly?"

"Who can let the Buddhist order pass on? The old monk will help whoever he chooses today."

Qian Zu lowered his gaze to Fei Yi, "If the State continues to stand by, I will today commit treason and betrayal."

"Ah, how terrifying!"

Fei Yi, with two short, thick fingers, plucked an eye from the folds of his chest and tossed it into his mouth, muttering, "But the fruit is nearly ripe; it is time to harvest."

As the words fell, the fields erupted in a wave of flesh, birthing a blood‑flesh lotus spanning an acre, like an ugly scar on the mountain.

A naked Buddha, without skin, rose slowly from it, its head crowned with flesh, cheeks swollen, forty bare white teeth clenched, embodying the thirty‑two aspects of the Buddha.

Fei Yi raised his hand in invitation, laughing, "Please."

"Master Li, are you truly unwilling?"

Qian Zu stared at Li Jun with pleading eyes.

But what answered him was a sudden black‑red flash and a ferocious fist bursting from it!

Boom!

The crushing force slammed into the air, stirring a thunderous roar.

"Li Jun, all your good words are over; you are stubborn and dull, no wonder the old monk!"

Qian Zu fell from the heavens, merging into that blood‑flesh Buddha.

The Buddha rose upon the sea of blood, muscles coiled, roaring toward the heavens.

"The evil spirit blocks the road; it must be exterminated!"

"Li Jun, you could have released the fields, yet you chose to kill him; do you not know how many high‑quality seeds he provided for me?"

Fei Yi's silhouette drifted to the Buddha's shoulder, his ugly face showing a chilling malice.

"He died; my loss can only be compensated by your life."

Bang!

The furious fist crashed, smashing half the Buddha's body into a torrent

The sensation pierced like water’s embrace, the world before eyes emerged—a stranger’s realm.

“You are Neihong Four-Nine?” whispers the wind.

Shadows stretch across the field, yet only one figure stands, a solitary presence.

“Know this?” murmurs the elder, eyes fixed.

A breath held, yet silent.

“Such has been your gaze, your essence!”

A laugh escapes, soft yet resolute.

“Time wasted.”

A sigh escapes, sharp yet resigned.

“Pause,” he urges, voice a command.

“No need to speak.”

A clenched jaw tightens, words spilled, denied, denied.

“Your lineage, my fate—know this.”

A chuckle breaks the silence, warmth in the air.

“Remembered, yet forgotten?” he asks.

The weight of history presses, unyielding.

A shadow flickers, then vanishes.

A figure emerges, cloaked, regal, a mirror of power.

“Begin your dream,” he intones.

“From the throne’s grasp, rescue the lost.”

A flicker of memory, a vow etched.

“Such a burden,” he murmurs.

A face hardens, resolve crystallizing.

“Face it,” he says, voice a blade.

The ground trembles, yet he stands, unyielding.

A sigh escapes, bitter yet resolute.

“Fate favors you?” he wonders.

The path ahead whispers, a riddle.

A choice hangs, unspoken.

The weight of legacy, a burden shared.

A breath, then silence.

The scene fades, leaving only echoes.