Chapter 701: Long Time No See, Hongling

Chapter 701: The Long-Awaited Red Plume

These two short sentences truly stunned everyone present. Yuan Cheng and Yuan Xing were dumbfounded, while Liu Zi and the others nearly fell to their knees.

What are gods and demons? What are Buddhas? This is it!

A man thousands of miles away, who had just been fighting the monumental battle of Jing-Shi Langya, somehow knew exactly what was happening to his underlings here. He sent his mount to rescue them. How was this any different from the legendary Bodhisattvas and Buddhas? In the tales, the Bodhisattvas did exactly this—sending their lion mounts and such...

Even if the actual events didn’t match his note, it was already terrifying enough. If they did match...

Yuan Cheng and Yuan Xing exchanged glances, then cautiously crouched down to examine the corpse.

The monk killed by Liu Zi bore a fierce, murderous aura that should never belong to a follower of the Buddha. The aura was extremely faint and would dissipate completely in moments, but to a powerhouse like Yuan Cheng, ranked on the Earth List, it was utterly undeniable. It existed.

“It truly does...” Yuan Cheng inhaled sharply, muttering to himself.

Upon hearing their abbot’s judgment, the surrounding monks sucked in their breath so hard it felt like global cooling.

Earlier, during the debate in the hall, some had suggested that the previous incident where their followers killed someone might have been the work of Blood God cultists, maliciously stirring up their followers’ killing intent. This time, the suspicion was similar—it was the second layer of the hidden hand. Even if you examined the corpse, you would only suspect the Blood God cultists, and you could never prove otherwise.

But Zhao Changhe had written the second sentence in advance: *They haven’t learned the Blood Fiend Art.*

Damn it, was this precognition or what? Every monk, despite the cold weather, had sweat on their hands and feet. Zhao Changhe was just too absurd.

Yuan Cheng’s voice trembled as he asked Liu Zi, “You truly haven’t learned the Blood Fiend Art?”

Liu Zi was immensely proud, hands on his hips. “I’m too weak. According to the sect’s rules, I’m not qualified to learn it! Back when we were on Wushan, Instructor Sun wanted to give us a backdoor and teach us, but I failed even the basic test. Instructor Sun was so angry he slapped us a few times.”

“...” No one knew what he was so proud of.

If he was proud that his boss was terrifyingly formidable, the monks present could sympathize—this was indeed too shocking. Yuan Cheng remained cautious. “Would you allow me to verify?”

Liu Zi puffed out his chest. “Since you claim to have ties with our Boss Zhao, we’ll give you that face. Go ahead and check.”

Yuan Cheng placed his hand on Liu Zi’s pulse, his lips pressed tight.

Not only was there no Blood Fiend Art, but this man had no foundational cultivation method at all—neither internal nor external. He was simply a Jianghu man who had learned some blade techniques and, through long-term practice, achieved a physique akin to tempered body training. At his age, he barely reached the first level of the Mystic Barrier in strength. You could throw a stone into the Jianghu and hit seven or eight men like him. It was entirely plausible to say he didn’t even belong to the Blood God Sect.

A thought struck Yuan Cheng. Suddenly, he flicked his robe, and a brilliant golden light enveloped Liu Zi.

A needle as fine as an ox’s hair shot toward Liu Zi’s back, but it was blocked solidly by the Golden Bell Shield, producing a soft *ding*.

As the strongest representative of the Buddhist sect today, Yuan Cheng was no pushover. The moment he confirmed Liu Zi was innocent, he immediately suspected a third party was causing trouble. He protected Liu Zi first, and sure enough, he intercepted the ambush.

Liu Zi broke out in a cold sweat. Beside him, Yuan Xing reacted instantly, shouting, “Villain, don’t flee!”

He dashed like the wind toward the shadows, but a dark figure had already vanished into the distance, disappearing into the night.

“Don’t chase,” Yuan Cheng said, watching the assassin’s retreating figure. His voice was low. “The enemy has been scheming carefully. They want to provoke a conflict between us and the Blood God Sect—or rather, a conflict with the Four Symbols Sect or King Zhao. Either to stir chaos in Jingxiang or to use a borrowed knife to destroy Buddhism again under the new dynasty. This is the machination of a faction, not just a matter of one or two assassins.”

Yuan Xing asked, “Brother, what about this matter now...”

Yuan Cheng bowed to Liu Zi. “We have been used by others. I apologize to the General.”

Liu Zi felt like he was floating. The head of a sect, a powerhouse on the Earth List, was bowing and apologizing to him, even calling him General!

Having someone above you was truly awesome!

But Yuan Cheng had no time to waste on him. After apologizing, he immediately led the group back: “Leave a few to collect the bodies. The rest, return quickly. I suspect someone is targeting the Buddha.”

The monks’ hearts all skipped a beat. Everyone had rushed out, leaving few strong defenders in the temple. If someone invaded the secret realm...

At that moment, inside the secret realm, a group of elderly monks were being battered by an enraged, rampaging Vajra. Even their formation couldn’t stop the Buddha’s awakening. They coughed blood and collapsed to the ground, terrified as their Buddha walked toward them step by step, raising his fist.

Just as his fist was about to smash down on an old monk’s head, the conflict outside subsided. The faith energy flowing into this place became much calmer and purer again. The furious Vajra suddenly stopped mid-punch, staring at the bald heads before him that looked so much like his own. His face showed confusion and inner turmoil.

Then he clutched his head, roaring and howling in agony. He stomped hard on the green stone floor, then fled madly into the forest behind, like a crazed beast.

With a thunderous *boom*, the green stone beneath his foot shattered into dust. The area before the hall was a mess, as if bombarded by cannon fire. The surviving elderly monks, having narrowly escaped death, lay sprawled in disarray, staring in horror at the direction their maddened Buddha had fled, utterly clueless about what had happened.

“This...”

*Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!* Yuan Cheng and the others appeared one after another, asking urgently, “What happened?”

An old monk managed to reply, “The Buddha has gone mad...”

Yuan Cheng stamped his foot. “Search the mountain! If you find the Buddha, do not disturb him. Secretly send signals to us!”

“Yes!”

The monks turned into streaks of light and chased into the mountains.

But long before this, Zhao Changhe had already quietly followed the Buddha deep into the forest, trailing him from a distance without alarming him.

If he had appeared here openly, he would have fallen into someone’s sight, and everything would be different. But if no one noticed this entrance, which was constantly trafficked, he might still observe the changes and perhaps find the hidden hand behind it all.

Sure enough, after following for a while, he saw a dark shadow dart toward the Buddha’s neck. The Vajra’s body, which had endured an entire epoch without decay, was corroded and pierced by the shadow, which stabbed into its surface.

The Buddha cried out in pain and swung his iron-like arm backward in a furious sweep.

The terrifying wind swept through, snapping trees and shattering rocks within a dozen zhang. It revealed his immense cultivation—and this was before he had fully recovered. A madman like this was already this powerful. What would he be like at his peak?

But in his maddened state, he was clearly no match for the hidden assassin. The shadow twisted slightly, letting the violent energy pass by like a willow in the wind, causing no harm. Then the shadow climbed up his arm, wrapping tightly around half of his body.

The Buddha roared again in agony, his cries pitiful and desperate.

Zhao Changhe slowly reached for his Dragon Sparrow blade. He could almost see the Buddha’s power, along with the “faith energy” he had absorbed, being drained into the opponent’s body, like bloodsucking.

Zhao Changhe knew who it was.

The one who had been beaten away by Vermilion Bird... Anmie. He never expected to find him here.

If it was Anmie, many things began to connect. Anmie belonged to those who wished for chaos in the world—the more chaotic, the better, as it suited his cultivation environment. He could even absorb the concept of “chaos” to improve further. Stirring conflict between the Buddhist sect and the Four Symbols Sect served multiple purposes: first, he had a grudge against the Four Symbols Sect, having just been brutally beaten by Vermilion Bird; second, the Buddhist sect was naturally opposed to his attributes, and he wouldn’t want them to rise; third, if he could provoke chaos in Jingxiang, it would add another source of turmoil to the world.

All of this was highly advantageous to him.

Yet, watching the scene before him, Zhao Changhe hesitated. He didn’t rush in to save the Buddha. Everything seemed to fit, but somehow he felt that Anmie wasn’t the final boss. There was something else lurking behind... Was it because Anmie had been so thoroughly beaten by Vermilion Bird that he seemed too weak to be the final boss?

But he was truly a Realm Lord-level demon god...

Just as he was thinking this, a warning flashed in his heart, and his scalp tingled.

Zhao Changhe twisted around instantly. From the shadows behind him, a sword beam shot forth, swift as an arrow from Yi, vast as the setting sun over the wilderness.

The blade in Zhao Changhe’s hand, which he had been about to swing, nearly slipped from his grasp. The other party’s eyes widened as well. The terrifying sword strike, aimed to pierce the sun and moon, was forcibly pulled back, but the attacker couldn’t stop their momentum. With a *thud*, they crashed into Zhao Changhe’s arms.

Then, lifting their head and touching their forehead, they stared blankly at Zhao Changhe’s face, speechless.

Zhao Changhe held a soft, warm figure in his arms, equally stunned and unable to speak.

It was the long-awaited Yue Hongling!

Neither of them had expected to meet here, in this place, without any warning, utterly inexplicably.