Chapter 707 - 560: Ultimately... Broke the Vow...
Chapter 707: Chapter 560: Ultimately... Broke the Vow...
"Monk, say something..."
Tushan Jing Ci remained standing where she was, her tear-filled eyes gazing dazedly at him.
Her voice, tinged with a sob and a plea, drifted through the mountain forest, startling a few birds from their perch.
Xiao Mo remained silent. The only sound was the rustling of leaves across the mountain, whispering like endless sighs in the wind.
A light breeze lifted the hem of her snow-white dress, causing the fabric to cling to her soft, graceful curves.
A faint, fresh fragrance drifted from her on the wind, a scent that now seemed tinged with bitterness.
After a long while, Xiao Mo finally opened his eyes, his gaze serene as he looked at the woman before him.
He spoke one word at a time, his voice quiet, yet it landed in the woman’s heart with perfect clarity: "Miss... you are very beautiful."
"Is that so?" Tushan Jing Ci smiled faintly, a smile tinged with indescribable self-mockery and sorrow. "Then, Monk, what if I asked you to leave with me?"
Tushan Jing Ci took a step forward, the hem of her dress fluttering slightly in the wind.
"I want you to come with me! Come back with me to Tushan!"
"Monk! If you are with me, you will have endless Heavenly and Earthly Treasures. I can help you ascend, straight into the Upper Three Realms!"
"From this day forward, not a single person will dare harm you! I am the Tushan Saintess, the future leader of the Tushan Race. All of Tushan will one day be yours!"
"Monk..." Her gaze burned into him, her voice laced with a final thread of hope. "Will... you?"
"But, Miss Jing Ci..." Xiao Mo gently shook his head, his voice low and slow, yet filled with a resolve that could not be swayed. "I... am a monk..."
"So what!"
The moment the words left Xiao Mo’s lips, Tushan Jing Ci cried out and fiercely swung her sleeve.
In an instant, hundreds of trees to their left were torn from the ground, leaving a patch of flattened earth!
"I don’t care if you’re a common man or a monk! I don’t care if you’re a Daoist or a Sword Immortal!" Her voice was clear and resolute, filled with longing and frustration. "You are you! And all I want is you!"
Tushan Jing Ci’s tone bordered on frantic obsession, the corners of her eyes turning red.
It seemed as though every word Xiao Mo might say next would push her over the edge.
"I’m sorry... Miss..." Xiao Mo shook his head again.
He pressed his palms together and gave a low bow, his voice tinged with apology yet revealing an unshakable resolve. "I have already said all that needs to be said... Please, Miss, take good care of yourself..."
With that, Xiao Mo turned and began walking up the mountain, step by step.
But in the next instant, Tushan Jing Ci vanished, reappearing in a flash before him to block his path.
Xiao Mo stopped in his tracks.
A longsword, gleaming with a cold light, was pointed at his neck.
Tushan Jing Ci’s hand trembled as she held the sword, her once sweet and melodic voice now choked with an irrepressible sob and an almost fanatical determination. "Come with me! Or... I’ll kill you!"
Xiao Mo lowered his head and glanced at the longsword pressed against him.
He did not retreat, but instead took a step forward.
The tip of the sword broke his skin. Crimson beads of blood seeped out, trickling down the cold steel of the blade.
Xiao Mo continued to walk forward.
With every step he took, Tushan Jing Ci drew the sword back slightly.
Finally, Xiao Mo brushed past Tushan Jing Ci.
It was as if all Tushan Jing Ci’s strength had been drained from her. The longsword slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground with a CLANG.
She stood there, head bowed, listening only to the sound of Xiao Mo’s footsteps growing ever more distant, ever more faint.
"Monk..."
Tushan Jing Ci’s voice reached him from behind, drifting softly into his ears. Every word was laced with heartbreak and desolation.
"You said... monks don’t lie, right..."
"That is correct." Xiao Mo stopped and replied in a low voice.
"Then let me ask you one last question..." The woman’s hands were clenched so tightly, her fingers interwoven, that her pink nails nearly dug into her palms.
"In your heart... have you ever, even once, had feelings for me?"
Silence fell between them once more.
It was as if, in that moment, everything in the world had stopped.
After what felt like an eternity, Xiao Mo finally, slowly, began to speak.
His voice was quiet, but each word was like a heavy stone, crushing Tushan Jing Ci’s heart.
"I have only ever thought of you as a friend, Miss Jing Ci. In my heart... there is no love."
As the words left his lips, Xiao Mo strode away, ascending Sikong Mountain without a single glance back.
The woman remained standing there, dazed and motionless, like a soulless statue.
Who knows how long she stood there.
RUMBLE...
In the sky above, dark clouds gathered, pressing down low and heavy, blotting out the last rays of sunlight.
Rain poured down in sheets, pattering against the leaves, soaking the soil, and drenching her simple white dress.
...
"It’s raining, it’s raining!"
In Sikong Temple, the young monk Xujing, who was busy sweeping, clutched a scripture in one hand and his broom in the other as he scurried toward the shelter of the main hall’s eaves.
But in his haste, he wasn’t watching where he was going and bumped right into someone.
"Abbot..." Xujing steadied himself and bowed properly. "Weren’t you annotating scriptures? What brings you out here?"
"Can’t an old monk like me get some fresh air?" Master Yuan Kong smiled and tapped Xujing lightly on the head, then looked up at the sheet of rain pouring from the boundless sky.
"But, Grandpa Abbot..." Xujing tilted his head up, his face filled with curiosity. "Just a moment ago the sky was perfectly clear. Why did it suddenly start raining so hard?"
"Because..." Yuan Kong sighed softly, his voice distant and desolate. "This is the lament of the Buddhist Dao."
"Lamenting?" Xujing scratched his small, shaven head, utterly baffled. "Lamenting what? Grandpa Abbot, you always speak in riddles. I don’t understand."
Hearing his young disciple’s complaints, Yuan Kong wasn’t angered. He simply asked calmly, "Xujing, let me ask you—what are the Ten Precepts of the Buddhist Sect?"
"I know this one!" Xujing said, earnestly counting on his fingers as he recited, "No killing, no stealing, no unchastity, no lying, no taking intoxicants, no adorning the body, no watching singing or dancing, no sleeping on high and luxurious beds, no eating after noon, and no hoarding gold or silver."
"Correctly spoken." Yuan Kong nodded, his gaze still fixed on the downpour.
"And this Buddhist Dao..."
He paused, his voice seeming to drift away on the wind and rain, laced with a sigh.
"Is lamenting..."
"Lamenting that a monk of boundless promise, one who has always strictly upheld the precepts, has finally... broken his vows..."