Nightfall

From several simple sentences, Ning Que confirmed two important facts: the monk with an enigmatic state was the Chief Preaching Monk of the Xuankong Temple, and the monk was going to kill both Sangsang and him.

Faced with such a serious situation, he had no time to think about the strength gap between himself and the Chief Preaching Monk. He even had not thought at all before he acted with what was left of his courage and determination.

As the Great Spirit in him spurted out, his right foot made a stone pit on the hard ground. In a flash, he appeared before the chief monk like a ghost. He raised the podao high above his head, with the blazing Haotian Divine Light, and cut at the top of the monk’s head, as if he was going to burn all the clouds in the sky above his head.

The podao, hard and heavy, mercilessly cut down to the bamboo hat on the chief monk’s head, causing a loud clunking noise. It was like cutting down an ancient bell which echoed melodiously!

The bamboo hat instantly shattered into dust, splashing everywhere. The chief monk’s bare head with scars left by the burning incense was faintly visible. However, his expression did not change at all and even his silver eyebrows did not tremble a little.

Ning Que’s hands holding the hilt trembled again but had no sign of stopping. With a loud shout, his podao cut down again with Haotian Divine Light. The attack was so quick and violent that the Chief Preaching Monk was cut seventeen times within a split second. Every cut landed on different places, but were equally fierce and strong.

The first cut when he burnt the sky and broke the mountain was the most powerful cut he had made. It was so many times stronger than the one he made then to blind Liu Yiqing at the side door of the Academy.

The seventeen cuts he made at the time were the best he could do. He could not even make it if he had not been forced by the strong fear.

However, every cut, whether it was the most powerful or exquisite one, turned out to be meaningless to the silent and serene old monk.

He could not even cut off a single eyebrow of the monk, let alone hurt him.

As the power of podao died down, the bamboo hat worn by the Chief Preaching Monk was still splashing around. His kasaya was cut into numerous pieces by the blade, but they had not yet fallen.

Ning Que retreated dozens of feet like a ghost to where he had originally been, his face pale.

As a breeze from the lake wafted over, the kasaya worn by the Chief Preaching Monk slowly floated away like butterflies, revealing his naked body. Then a disciple changed his clothes for him.

Tens of thousands of devotees in the temple knelt on the ground and kowtowed reverently at this moment. None of them noticed the scene.

But Ning Que saw clearly that there was no any trace of his attack, nor cuts on the chief monk’s old body. That sent a chill through his spine. Then he recalled what Qi Mei had said in front of the small courtyard.

“The Buddhadharma is eternal, the person trained to become the Zen Buddha, and the physical body will be that of the Buddha. The mind is also trained until it is that of the Buddha. Now my physical body is like that of Buddha.”

After the battle in the small courtyard, Ning Que knew clearly how strong Qi Mei was and how terrifying his healing capabilities were. But he was only a disciple of the Chief Preaching Monk and only his body had become like that of the Buddha.

The Chief Preaching Monk of the Xuankong Temple could not be pierced through by the Primordial Thirteen Arrows, nor injured by podao with the Haotian Divine Light. He had obviously attained the highest state of Buddhism, which meant that both his body and mind were indestructible.

Why were they indestructible?

Because they could never be injured no matter how hard the attack was.

Then how could this fight go on?

Ning Que had never known how to spell the word “desperation”. But today he came to know how to write it.

After changing into a new kasaya, the Chief Preaching Monk raised his head and quietly looked at Ning Que who was standing dozens of feet away. He slowly put down the monk staff in hand.

His staff had kept falling. But because Ning Que was much too quick while he was too slow, the staff had not yet fallen to the ground after Ning Que had finished eighteen cuts.

Until then, the tip of the staff finally came into contact with the ground.

The staff head rang a sound as clear as a bell.

The tip pierced into the ground easily and soundlessly.

There was no deafening sound, nor was there any vigor that could shake the heaven or earth.

Tens of thousands of people in the Yuelun Kingdom bowing to the ground felt nothing at all.

The sound was too fierce to be heard.

The shaking was too drastic to be sensed.

Only Ning Que felt the shake.

The shake of the earth.

Ning Que’s feet trembled and his shabby boots fell to pieces.

The tremor spread to his legs and his trousers were torn up in an instant.

Then his body trembled, and Sangsang, who was on his back also began to tremble.

There were two puffs.

Ning Que spat out blood onto the ground in front.

Sangsang spat out blood on his shoulder.

The Chief Preaching Monk lifted his staff again and walked slowly to Ning Que.

Ning Que became desperately hopeless. His only hope was to jump into the lake in the back temple with Sangsang. But now he felt that all the bones in his body had been broken, so how could he still have any strength to escape?

The Chief Preaching Monk walked in a very slow manner. He needed to take a short rest with the support of the staff with every step he took.

Each time the staff landed on the ground, a clear ringing would sound from the staff head. Ning Que standing dozens of feet away would suffer a drastic impact. The staff seemed to land on his heart.

The Chief Preaching Monk went step by step toward Ning Que.

Ning Que and Sangsang kept vomiting blood while watching the old monk getting closer. Now he hoped that the Chief Preaching Monk could walk faster. Because the slower he was, the more pain Ning Que and Sangsang felt.

More than 100 Buddhist monks occupied the Buddhist temple. Hundreds of army archers of Yuelun roused from the previous shock and craze and began to take bows and arrows, aiming at Ning Que and Sangsang among the crowd.

No one knew why Master Qi Mei still stood on the periphery of the crowd.

Ning Que tried to draw the iron bow apart, only to find that he could do nothing before the Buddhist power of the Chief Preaching Monk and within the scope of the staff’s sound.

The Chief Preaching Monk walked slowly towards them. He looked at Ning Que and asked calmly,”Where is the chessboard left by Buddha?”

Ning Que smiled painfully, revealing his teeth covered with blood. He said,”It is in the depth of my mind. You can just kill me and see in which part it hides.”

The Chief Preaching Monk heaved a sigh. He looked at the little pale face of Sangsang and said with a pity,”Poor girl, you lived a life for nothing. You have suffered a lot over these years. Today you can be free.”

Ning Que coughed up blood and managed a sarcastic expression with difficulty. He said, “The Buddha said to deliver all living creatures from torment. It turns out that this is deliverance. Why not deliver yourself first?”

The condition then was critical and desperate, but he was still in the mood of mocking others. He thought that his death would be worthwhile if he could laugh at such a bigwig as the Chief Preaching Monk before he died. In addition, he was not despaired yet.

Because he still had one last hope.

The hope did not lie on himself.

It laid on the person he was waiting for.

When he was in the Lanke Temple, he waited for the person for a long time.

After leaving the Lanke Temple, he waited for the person in Chaoyang for a whole winter.

He kept waiting for he had always firmly believed that that person would come.

On the day when he was in the Lanke Temple, that person came for him. So he should also come to the White Tower Temple today.

However, would he really come?

“Clang!”

What answered Ning Que’s question was a sound from a Qin.

The Qin was a musical instrument with strings. Usually made with seven strings, its sound was mild and elegant.

They were at the White Tower Temple, with corpses and blood everywhere. It was exactly the place called “the Xiuluo State” by the Buddhism Sect.

The sound of the Qin was not in harmony with the place.

Moreover, there was no Qin in the White Tower Temple and no one here had one.

However, there was a string in the temple. Even though there was only one string, when it was tightened and someone played it with fingers, the string could also make a melodious sound.

Those strings were on the bows, the bows held by hundreds of archers of the Yuelun Kingdom.

And the sound came from a bow.

However, the player was obviously somewhat in a hurry. He used so much strength that the tightened bowstring suddenly broke into two and turned grey.

Then, there was another sound of the Qin.

Hundreds of archers had hundreds of bows; hundreds of bows had hundreds of tightened strings. Every time when the player touched a bowstring, a sound occurred and the string broke.

The clear sound rang densely and continuously, like pearls falling on a jade plate or a shower falling into an iron urn. There was no pause and it seemed that all the sounds rang at the same time.

“Clang! …Clang! …Clang,clang,clang!”

It seemed like a long time had passed but in fact, it only occurred for a very short moment. The dense and clear sounds rang and disappeared at the same time. Only the lingering sounds reverberated in the White Tower Temple.

A scholar in an old cotton-padded jacket appeared and stood quietly in front of Ning Que. No one knew when he arrived. He looked at the Chief Preaching Monk not far away, the wooden dipper tied to his belt swinging gently.

As the sound stopped, hundreds of strings broke.

The staff held by the Chief Preaching Monk stopped making sounds.

After the appearance of the scholar, the field became quiet.

As another gust of wind came, the new kasaya worn by the Chief Preaching Monk fluttered slowly.

But no one knew whether the wind came from the lake or the scholar.

It was not until then that the archers discovered that the bow in their hands had become rubbish. The arrows waiting to be shot on the bows had long been shot into the air and gone nowhere.

They stared at the scholar in shock. Though they guessed vaguely it had something to do with him, no one could figure out how it happened and who the person was.

Ning Que, of course, knew who he was because he was the person Ning Que had been waiting for. He had thought that he would not be able to wait for the person to appear, but he came for him after all.

Looking at the scholar, he suddenly relaxed after being extremely nervous for countless days and nights. He felt an endless sense of exhaustion pouring into his body. He had been fleeing without anyone’s help from autumn in the Lanke Temple to autumn in the Wilderness and to winter in Chaoyang. Now he finally had someone to rely on.

It was a great feeling.

The Eldest Brother turned around and looked at Ning Que covered all over with blood. He could not help feeling some guilt, shame and relief at the same time. He said in a slightly trembling voice, “Younger Brother, here I am.”

Looking at his Eldest Brother who was dusty and fatigued, Ning Que knew the reason and felt extremely touched. He said in a similarly shaken voice, “Senior Brother, here you are.”

These two sentences were spoken almost at the same time.

They looked at each other and were stunned. Then they smiled and started coughing at the same time.