Chapter 984: Master, I Enlightened

Lu Yang could sense that the Four Immortal Sages of antiquity had done their absolute best to sugarcoat the Immortal Fairy, and the results were remarkably effective, for even Old Meng had come to view her as a master of profound virtue and immense enlightenment, gazing upon her memory with utter reverence.

"Forget it, better not say anything," Lu Yang thought, his kind nature prevailing as he couldn't bear to pit his good brother against such a reality. "It is enough that I alone know the truth of antiquity. It will suffice if Old Meng simply stays by my side to help me weather my upcoming heavenly tribulations."

After they finished touring the Grand Hall of the Great Hero, Master Duanchen escorted the two of them to the guest quarters.

Adorning the walls of the chamber were Buddhist scriptures written in a wildly cursive script by Master Duanchen’s own hand, infused with his essence, vitality, and spirit. Though Lu Yang could not comprehend a single word, he could feel that merely remaining within the room possessed an inherent quality that pacified the mind and focused the spirit, allowing a cultivator to swiftly enter a state of deep meditation.

Inscribing an entire wall with such scriptures demanded no small amount of energy from Master Duanchen, making it impossible for him to do so for every guest room.

"This must be the finest guest room in Kaihuang Temple, though it is of little practical use to me."

Lu Yang sat upon the bed, and within a few breaths, he entered a meditative state to cultivate.

He had long since suffered from the persistent disturbances of the Immortal Fairy; so long as he tuned out her voice, he could enter meditation at a moment's notice.

A night of cultivation passed.

Lu Yang emerged from his meditative state, pushed open the door, and treated himself to a comfortable stretch, feeling entirely refreshed.

The door to the adjacent room opened as Meng Jingzhou also awoke.

"Hei— Ha—"

The two heard a rhythmic, unified shouting echoing from not far away. Following the sound with their eyes, they saw the monks of Kaihuang Temple engaged in morning drills, their movements synchronized and their voices shaking the sky.

"Do you recognize what sort of fist technique that is?" Lu Yang inquired, his knowledge of martial arts being somewhat limited.

"It appears to be the Long-Arm Fist," Meng Jingzhou remarked after observing closely for a moment. "It is a secular martial art, meant for stretching the sinews, aligning the bones, and strengthening the physique."

Kaihuang Temple housed a vast number of mortal monks who were incapable of practicing spiritual arts, leaving them with no choice but to train in the martial arts of the mundane world.

Though it belonged to the realm of mortal martial arts, its efficacy was by no means inferior to low-tier spiritual cultivation methods. The martial world recorded numerous instances where mortal masters of the fist defeated cultivators of the Qi Condensation stage.

Taking the Long-Arm Fist as an example, it had originally been an ordinary style with nothing extraordinary about it. However, everything changed after the founder of the technique kindly rescued an old beggar from a beating by local thugs and treated him to a meal.

Upon waking the next morning, the founder discovered a brand-new manual of the Long-Arm Fist resting beside his pillow. It had been refined upon its original foundations, rendering the style easy to initiate, swift to master, and exceptionally high in its upper limits.

The thirty-sixth generation successor of the Long-Arm Fist experienced a similar stroke of fortune, inadvertently forging a karmic bond with a mighty cultivator, which allowed the style to undergo yet another miraculous transformation.

It was even rumored that a Tribulation Transcendence expert, playing among mortals, had learned and refined the Long-Arm Fist while masquerading as a mortal youth.

Such occurrences ensured that while the Long-Arm Fist remained within the category of mortal martial arts, its prowess had long surpassed its humble beginnings.

Other mundane martial styles had, to greater or lesser degrees, enjoyed similar histories, each touched by a brush with the immortal realm.

"The rumor that the Long-Arm Fist was amended by a Tribulation Transcendence expert should be true," Meng Jingzhou remarked. With his keen sight, he could discern no flaws or areas within the form that could be altered; modifying any single part would disrupt the integrity of the entire style, indicating that the cultivator who revised it possessed a cultivation far exceeding his own.

"Good morning, fellow patrons," Master Duanchen murmured with a smile as he materialized behind them, a string of Buddhist beads resting in his hand.

"Master."

"I wonder what arrangements you two have for today, so that this poor monk might assign attendants accordingly."

Lu Yang smiled and said, "We two have just arrived and know very little of the Buddhist Kingdom. We have no plans to speak of and shall defer entirely to your arrangements, Master."

"Today happens to be the day this poor monk receives pilgrims. It can be considered a distinct feature of our temple. If you both have nothing pressing, why not step over and observe?"

As the abbot, Master Duanchen was burdened with countless duties and could not possibly receive pilgrims every day, lest he accomplish nothing else.

Therefore, he had established a rule to receive pilgrims on a single, randomly chosen day each month, leaving the exact date entirely to fate.

"Then we shall trouble you, Master."

The incense offerings at Kaihuang Temple were far more abundant now than during the tenures of the previous abbots. Even before the gates swung open, a great number of pilgrims waited outside, with some having traveled from other cities just to pay their respects.

When the pilgrims learned that Master Duanchen himself would be receiving them today, they were overjoyed.

Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou held unique identities; though their faces were not universally recognized, their reputations certainly were. If anyone were to identify them and the news spread, the pilgrims would likely swarm Kaihuang Temple like a hornets' nest.

Thus, the two concealed their physical forms and spiritual auras, standing quietly to the left and right of Master Duanchen.

To receive pilgrims was to guide them, easing their worries and resolving their difficulties.

The first pilgrim was a fragile woman who appeared utterly pitiful, delicate as a reed and weeping softly.

"Master, many years ago on our wedding night, my fiancé ran away with my maidservant. I wished to let it go, but though so many years have passed, I find myself entirely unable to forget him."

Master Duanchen smiled faintly, produced a jade vial, and filled it to the brim with water.

"Observe, female patron. This jade vial is you. If you wish to let go of someone, you must fill yourself with new things to replace that person."

"Master, I understand."

"Originally, the water within the vial would gradually dry up, but your constant thoughts of him only cause the water to multiply. If you cease to think of him—"

The second pilgrim was a rather boisterous woman, though a shadow of sorrow inevitably colored her expression when she spoke of the past.

"Master, I had a childhood sweetheart. The two of us grew up innocent together. During a year of poor harvests, for the sake of our livelihood, my father sold me to the Yuan family to become the young mistress's personal maid. Then, one day, I beheld the eldest mistress's fiancé, who was none other than my childhood sweetheart. He carried me away on the mistress's wedding night, promising to wander the ends of the earth with me. Yet, not long after we wed, he claimed he wished to escape the red dust of the mortal world and enter the Buddhist monastic order. So many years have passed, and I still cannot let him go."

Master Duanchen smiled faintly, took a jade vial filled with water, and poured the contents out.

"Female patron, do you understand?"

The second pilgrim grew pensive. "Spilled water cannot be gathered back. My husband’s departure is an unalterable fact, and I must accept this reality and continue to look forward. Master, I understand."

The third pilgrim was a wandering monk, his face darkened by the sun, looking as though he had been traveling for an immeasurable time.

"Master, my cultivation has hit a bottleneck."

"I once had a fiancée and a childhood sweetheart, both of whom were wonderful women. I chose my childhood sweetheart. One day after our marriage, as I gazed upon her, a sudden realization struck me. Family ties and romantic love were merely emotions binding me, and everything seemed utterly meaningless. I felt the Buddhist order calling to me, so I left my childhood sweetheart to become a monk wandering the ends of the earth. Yet, as the years have flown by, I feel more and more that I am unsuited for the monastic life. I beg the Master to dispel my confusion."

Master Duanchen smiled faintly and used a spell to gather the water from the ground back into the jade vial.

The third pilgrim was struck by a sudden realization. "Master, do you mean to say that everything can be redeemed, and that I may return to secular life?"

Before he could finish, Master Duanchen struck the pilgrim squarely on the head with the vial, knocking him unconscious on the spot.

"This poor monk simply felt that striking someone in this manner offered an excellent grip."

Before slipping into unconsciousness, the pilgrim faintly glimpsed Master Duanchen vaulting over the table, hastily opening the door to call out to the first two pilgrims who were just preparing to depart: "Female patrons, there is no need to let go just yet!"