Ye Xiu looked over in surprise, the delicate face before him seeming familiar. "Are you Mei Yi? We were high school classmates?"

"Damn, you actually went to high school!" Old Liu looked utterly astonished. He slapped Ye Xiu on the back. "Look at the way that woman is looking at you; did you two hook up back in school?"

"It's good that you remember," Mei Yi said, holding a microphone; she appeared to be a reporter for some television station. She leaned close to Ye Xiu with a smile. "How have you been, old classmate? Are you also interested in the consecration of the Ksitigarbha bronze statue?"

Ye Xiu nodded slightly, recalling the scene from the past. He had approached Mei Yi precisely to end the life of her father, and his relationship with her had been quite cordial. He sighed, "I remember you moved to another city later? It really has been many years since we last met."

Mei Yi seemed to recall something as well, a wave of melancholy washing over her. "I left that sad place with my mother after my father died from that strange illness. I left in such a hurry; I didn't even get to say goodbye to you or any of the classmates."

"Could you two be childhood sweethearts..." Old Liu flirted, waving playfully in front of Mei Yi. He extended his hand and bowed slightly toward her. "I'm Old Liu, Ye Xiu's trusted friend who's been through thick and thin with him."

"Through thick and thin, indeed! Hello!" Mei Yi giggled, her attention fixed entirely on Ye Xiu. She only remembered the Ye Xiu of the past—quiet, uncommunicative, and aloof. Girls back then were always infatuated with that type of mysterious boy.

"Mei Yi! Hurry up! Find a chance to interview a high-ranking monk," an old man carrying a video camera shouted urgently toward Mei Yi from the front row.

"Coming!" Mei Yi called back over her shoulder before turning back. "You saw that I'm a reporter now. I finally caught this big story today, so I need to get going. Wait for me here, okay? I'll come back to find you later; I have so, so much to tell you!"

"Yeah," Ye Xiu nodded somewhat woodenly. Watching Mei Yi's anxious yet excited retreating figure, he started to feel that the things he had done in the past were irreversible mistakes.

"Looks like this beauty had a crush on you since she was little," Old Liu kept patting Ye Xiu’s shoulder, carefully observing Mei Yi’s physique. "Looks are decent, figure is top-notch. Yes, not bad, not bad!"

Ye Xiu sighed unenthusiastically. "Crush on what? Her father died because I got close to them. I truly don't know why the High God ordered me to take that life. I remember Mei Yi cried so hard that day."

"What do you think would happen if she found out you were indirectly responsible for her father's death?" Old Liu stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The person she held dear from childhood turns out to be some kind of Death God, one who caused her father’s demise. Hmm, I’d really like to see the ending of this story."

"Let's go. We need to get inside and find the formation eye for the Five-Pointed Burial Mound. Stop messing around with ordinary people's affairs here," Ye Xiu said coldly, hands shoved into his pockets, starting to move into the crowd. Just then, a massive palm shot out from the side, blocking his path.

"Two capable individuals, today is the auspicious day for the consecration of the Ksitigarbha bronze statue. Everyone inside is an ordinary person; perhaps you two shouldn't enter?" A middle-aged man, powerfully built yet dressed simply, appeared before them as if drifting, his thick eyebrows and broad, square face clearly showing two characters: Good Person!

Ye Xiu was startled by the sheer size of the hand, reminiscent of Sun Wukong encountering the palm of the Tathagata Buddha on television. By the time he regained his composure, he couldn't distinguish if it had been real or a hallucination. He stared coldly at the newcomer, feeling a surge of unease within him.

"You can discern our origins? Who are you?" Old Liu was suspicious. In his studies, aside from conventional Buddhist disciples, there were no clans on Mount Jiuhua possessing significant cultivation.

"I can recognize a thing or two about those who bear soul energy and magical power within their physique," the middle-aged man said, though he appeared only a few years older than Ye Xiu. His voice was steady, carrying the weight of someone who had witnessed the rise and fall of ages. "My name is Wan Gu Chang Kong. You two can just call me Chang Kong."

"Chang Kong, is that perhaps your Dharma name?" Ye Xiu was interested in anyone who could see through his disguise. His intuition suggested that anyone who recognized the Death God might be deeply connected to the Death God's demise.

"Indeed. I originate from the Buddhist Village of Jiuhua, one of the successor lineages of Ksitigarbha Buddha’s Dharma cultivation," Chang Kong stated his background without reservation. "On Mount Jiuhua, there are orthodox Buddhist disciples, and naturally, there are practitioners from our Jiuhua Buddhist Village. We usually remain hidden in the mundane world, but your arrival today left me no choice but to appear."

"What kind of clan is the Jiuhua Buddhist Village? Are you monks? Why don't you have shaved heads!" Old Liu found Chang Kong's words hard to believe. There were dozens of high monks at the front today for the statue's consecration. If those esteemed figures were merely devout believers, then the Jiuhua Buddhist Village lineage Chang Kong spoke of must be the true cultivators endowed with Buddhist power.

"The Death God can live alongside ordinary people, and Taoists can consort with Death Gods; what is strange about monks keeping their hair?" Chang Kong smiled calmly, his face betraying no excess emotion. "The Jiuhua Buddhist Village merely inherits the Ksitigarbha’s Buddha power; we truly cannot be considered monks. All I know is that the power of the Death God returning to Jiuhua signifies the beginning of a cycle—this is the destiny of the Jiuhua Buddhist Village lineage, and the destiny of the entire human realm."

Ye Xiu had read some Buddhist classics and felt a sense of resonance with the concept of destiny discussed by Buddhist practitioners. In Buddhism, the saying "My fate is decided by me, not by heaven" was often just a joke. Many things were predetermined by karmic connections and endless cycles, leading over time to a certain detachment—it simply didn't matter anymore.

"You knew a Death God would come here today?" Taoist teachings emphasize 'one life, one transformation,' and Old Liu did not entirely trust what was fated. "Or does your Jiuhua Buddhist Village have some connection to the Death God?"

"After Shakyamuni achieved Nirvana and before Maitreya Buddha's descent, the human realm remained in a state without a Buddha, leading to the birth of Ksitigarbha. However, the Asura race ran rampant, and Ksitigarbha, having no choice, entered Nirvana with his entire body to successfully suppress the Asuras of the Styx. But the existence of the Styx is eternal; the Asura race cannot be annihilated by mere temporary Buddhist power. Therefore, Ksitigarbha dispersed his own Buddha power into direct descendants, resulting in our Jiuhua Buddhist Village," Chang Kong spoke clearly, maintaining the demeanor of a scholar. "Beneath this Ksitigarbha bronze statue lies another realm, which is the main channel of the Styx! In ancient times, Ksitigarbha used his physical body in Nirvana to suppress the Styx below. But the Styx is ceaseless, constantly impacting the human realm. If the Sea of Blood enters the world, humanity will turn into a hell. Our lineage in the Buddhist Village has guarded this place for generations, waiting for this cycle to complete."