Chapter 1044: Treasure of the Temple

Master Mingyu’s eyelids twitched violently. He could only thank the heavens that he was the one overseeing the mystic realm rather than one of the initiates undergoing its trials; otherwise, Xinding’s single remark would have been enough to see him expelled on the spot.

With Master Mingyu’s manifestation, Xinding’s memory flooded back, and he recalled that he was currently ensnared within the second trial.

Yet, he remained rather perplexed. It was merely a matter of carrying someone across a river; why had the Abbot manifested himself once more?

Could this truly be a matter of such monumental gravity?

Perhaps the Abbot’s appearance carried some profound, esoteric intent, though with his own mediocre aptitude, Xinding found himself unable to fathom the depths of the Abbot’s wisdom.

There was no shame in ignorance; one had only to ask for guidance.

"Pray tell, Abbot, is there some flaw in my act of delivering this soul?"

Master Mingyu, who had been on the verge of speaking, froze instantly upon hearing Xinding’s response.

Indeed, what flaw could there possibly be in delivering a soul?

"It is nothing. You have done well," Master Mingyu replied, his gaze resting upon Xinding with a complex tapestry of emotions. He could not discern whether Xinding’s words were born of mere coincidence or true enlightenment, yet regardless of the truth, Xinding now possessed the potential to pass the trials of the mystic realm.

It seemed that Xinzhen was not the only promising seed in this generation’s trial.

With that, Master Mingyu turned and vanished, leaving behind a thoroughly bewildered Xinding.

Why, having posed his question, did the Abbot depart so abruptly without even granting him an answer?

The passing rate of the second round of trials was lower even than that of the first; ninety-eight percent of the young monks failed to breach this gate.

After the winnowing of the two trials, only a mere handful of young monks remained. Apart from Xinding, the others were all renowned for the profound depth of their Buddhist nature.

The dense, enveloping aura of the Buddha descended once more, marking the commencement of the third trial.

Xinzhen plunged into an illusion, recalling his identity within the dreamscape as a Zen master. Before him stood a man who found him utterly distasteful in every regard, presently raining curses down upon him.

"You ill-bred beast! Conceived by a mother but never taught manners..."

The man’s vitriol was exceptionally foul, a torrent of abuse almost unbearable to the ear.

Xinzhen brought his palms together, closed his eyes, and entered a state of meditative stillness, acting precisely as though he were entirely deaf to the insults hurled against him.

Eventually, the man grew weary of his own shouting. He stared at Xinzhen in sheer bewilderment. "I have spent half the day cursing you. How can you sit there without the slightest reaction?"

Xinzhen opened his eyes, his gaze as tranquil and undisturbed as a deep pool. Offering a serene smile, he spoke, "If someone were to proffer a gift to you, but you refused to accept it, to whom then would that gift belong?"

The man replied, "It would belong to the one who originally offered the gift."

Xinzhen smiled. "Just so. Since I do not accept your vitriol, you are merely cursing yourself."

Xinzhen passed the trial.

This particular gate tested the "Abstention from Anger," requiring the initiate to maintain a tranquil mind in the face of another's vitriol.

"To harbor no resentment or wrath—excellent." Master Mingyu observed Xinzhen from the shadows. This youth was neither arrogant nor impetuous, standing out remarkably among the assembly of monks. Furthermore, throughout the three trials, Xinzhen's choices had aligned perfectly with his own past decisions.

"How fares Xinding?" Having witnessed the conclusion of two trials, Master Mingyu had already elevated Xinding to the same standing as Xinzhen.

The moment Master Mingyu entered Xinding’s illusion, he caught the sound of Xinding’s sonorous and forceful retort.

"You are the ill-bred beast! Conceived by a mother but never taught manners..."

The two men were trading insults with ferocious intensity, creating a scene so volatile that even a passing dog would have received a scolding.

"Cease!"

Master Mingyu could not contain himself and manifested once more. How was it that this boy's choices confounded his expectations at every single turn?

Those capable of reaching the third trial were all Buddhist cultivators endowed with a deep spiritual nature. Even if they failed to restrain their emotions, they would at most display anger; they would never stoop to engaging in a shouting match with their antagonist.

Xinding, however, had chosen to dive straight into a mutual exchange of curses.

"Abbot, why have you returned yet again?" Xinding inquired, looking at Master Mingyu in astonishment.

"Could I possibly stay away? Why are you trading curses with him?" Master Mingyu demanded, his tone laced with exasperation.

"Because he was cursing me," Xinding replied, as though stating the most obvious fact in the world.

"He curses you, so you curse him in return?"

"Abbot, if someone were to proffer a gift to you, but you refused to accept it, what would you do?"

"Naturally, I would return the gift to him."

"Exactly. Am I not currently returning the gift to him? In whatever manner he cursed me, I shall curse him back in identical measure."

"..."

For the very first time in his life, Master Mingyu harbored a fleeting doubt as to whether his own understanding of the Buddhist Dharma had fallen short.

Beholding Xinding’s serene countenance, the Abbot suddenly recollected that when Xinding had been trading vitriol moments ago, his expression had remained entirely tranquil, bearing no resemblance whatsoever to a man engaged in a quarrel!

Xinding genuinely believed that he was merely "returning a gift"!

The third round of trials drew to a close. Only Xinzhen and Xinding succeeded in passing, while the remainder of the monks were entirely weeded out—an unprecedented outcome in the history of the trials.

In previous instances, either no one survived the three gates, or a solitary individual managed to endure them all.

"Both of you have done exceedingly well," Master Mingyu said, his expression softening into one of approval, though the look he directed toward Xinding remained steeped in a profound complexity.

"These three gates served to test your Buddhist nature. Only those who pass them can be deemed to possess a profound spiritual foundation, remaining unperturbed by the Buddhist aura and earning the right to attempt to form a karmic bond with the supreme treasure of our temple."

Master Mingyu led the two youths into the deeper, inner recesses of the Western Heaven Mystic Realm.

Upon entering this profound stratum of space, the dense Buddhist aura manifested almost like primordial chaos mist, rendering the path ahead utterly obscured to the naked eye.

"Whuff."

Master Mingyu exhaled a gentle breath, dispersing the Buddhist aura to reveal a pathway. At the terminus of the road stood an altar table, upon which sat sarira relics, an incense burner, and sacred scriptures, all arranged to pay homage to the temple's supreme treasure.

Lu Yang finally discerned the appearance of the supreme treasure. It was an axe, its blade chipped and marred, while the flat of its surface bore an indented, delicate handprint.

"The Heaven-Cleaving Axe?!"

This was astonishingly the Heaven-Cleaving Axe, the very immortal artifact that Immortal Yingtian prided himself upon—an item that could easily be considered the pinnacle of immortal armaments during the ancient era.

Immortal Yingtian had tempered it through countless trials, smelting an unknown quantity of immortal gold and profound treasures to forge the weapon. Its haft was fashioned from a portion of the main trunk of the Immortal of Aeons, imbued with the power of time itself; it was capable of cleaving the firmament and possessed the power to shatter the heavens.

Immortal Yingtian had once mentioned that during the Great Gan era, he had been ambushed by Hui Doudou. Following that fateful battle, the Heaven-Cleaving Axe had vanished without a trace. To think it had actually been acquired by the Western Heaven Temple.

Lu Yang understood now. The clash between Immortal Yingtian and Hui Doudou had undoubtedly been a battle unto the death. In the course of that struggle, the Heaven-Cleaving Axe had simultaneously withstood the tribulation-defying power of Immortal Yingtian and the absolute annihilation energy of Hui Doudou.

The handprint upon the surface of the axe must have been left behind by Hui Doudou.

Master Mingyu began his introduction: "This object is highly likely to be the legendary Heaven-Cleaving Axe, an artifact our temple chanced upon during the early period of the Great Gan era. When the temple first acquired it, the axe teemed with a power capable of obliterating all existence, making it impossible to approach. The slightest leakage of its energy would have resulted in the utter devastation of countless living souls."

"To purify this malevolent force, successive generations of eminent monks labored day and night in purification rituals, finally cleansing the axe entirely and simultaneously imbuing it with a profound Buddhist aura."

"Yet an immortal artifact is no ordinary thing; not just anyone is qualified to possess it. To win the acknowledgement of the axe, one must first breach the three gates of the Buddhist aura to prove they can withstand the spiritual energy within the weapon. Only then will the immortal axe choose its master, and only the one it selects shall have the right to wield it."

When Master Mingyu was merely in the Qi Condensation stage, he too had breached the three gates of the Buddhist aura, yet he had failed to win the acknowledgement of the Heaven-Cleaving Axe. He wondered if either of these two who had survived the gates today might manage to secure its approval.

"So, it turns out the supreme treasure of your Western Heaven Temple is indeed the Heaven-Cleaving Axe," a smug voice suddenly echoed from Xinzhen’s person.

A cultivator whose garments were embroidered with patterns of hourglasses and sundials flew out from Xinzhen’s storage ring, stretching his limbs with easy nonchalance.

"After infiltrating this place so many times, I have finally latched onto a little monk capable of passing the three gates of the Buddhist aura."

"Who goes there!" Master Mingyu’s expression shifted drastically. The intruder had infiltrated the Western Heaven Mystic Realm multiple times without him ever detecting a trace.

For the man to manifest so flagrantly now meant he had undoubtedly come fully prepared!

"The Watcher of the Great Qian, Lord of the Hours—I wonder, Master, if you might have heard of him?"