"On the twenty-seventh of April, Master suddenly emerged from seclusion, saying that Mars was shining intensely while the Ziwei Emperor Star had dimmed, signaling great chaos and dynastic change across the realm."

Gu Ya sat up cross-legged, nearly kicking Wen Lingsu in the back. Feng Zikang moved two steps closer, subtly nudging the junior aunt further inside. He heard her let out a faint, soft moan, her delicate brows furrowing slightly, as she lightly tapped his hand as if shooing away a fly. Feng Zikang hastily coughed loudly to cover the sound.

"The twenty-seventh of April?"

That date felt significant. Seeing Gu Ya hadn't noticed the strange sound, Feng Zikang looked back and realized that this April twenty-seventh was the very day after he had slain Wudunya.

When the fate of the Ascending Flood Dragon scattered, dragon energy dispersed throughout the land. In theory, dynastic chaos was plausible, but since it was merely the energy of a flood dragon, its dissipating power was insufficient to contend with a true Son of Heaven.

How could there be a change in dynasties without a true dragon emerging?

Feng Zikang pondered in silence, deeply perplexed.

Furthermore, even if the world were truly descending into chaos, what concern would that be for cultivators?

Over millennia, cycles of order and disorder repeated; it was always said that what is long divided must unite, and what is long united must divide. No dynasty lasted a thousand years, and there had been numerous shifts in power. While a period of earthly upheaval offered cultivators a fine chance to support a new court and earn merit, for a Nascent Soul master like a Heavenly Mystery Taoist, it was hardly a matter of consequence.

"Master looked quite tense, as if something truly serious was afoot! I have only ever seen Master with his feather fan and silken scarf, speaking and laughing with ease—I've never seen him like this..."

Gu Ya also couldn't quite grasp it, his brow furrowed, his mind restless, cursing his own shallow skill in stellar observation that prevented him from deciphering the profound mysteries of heaven and earth.

Feng Zikang chuckled, "Then you were thoughtful enough to come to me?"

"Alas, even if I had stayed there, Master would surely have ushered the chosen few into the secret room for discussion and never bothered bringing me along! My cultivation is too low; I have no standing!" Gu Ya shook his head, possessing a sharp self-awareness.

The more mysterious the situation, the more interested Feng Zikang became.

However, with so many high-level cultivators gathered on Sunset Peak, he certainly wasn't foolish enough to carelessly employ the Formless Heavenly Demon for reconnaissance. Although the Heavenly Demon avatar was inherently shapeless and formless, theoretically undetectable, who knew what secret ultimate techniques those old men possessed? It was best not to take the risk.

If this truly concerned a monumental event of heaven and earth, he could slowly gather information indirectly later on.

Besides, Feng Zikang glanced back at the bamboo couch. Wen Lingsu was sleeping soundly, curled up in a ball wrapped in her thin blanket. He presumed that whatever the matter, they would inform this junior aunt. He could inquire with her later, and if necessary, warm up a pot of Bamboo Leaf Green wine—he wouldn't believe she wouldn't let slip some information under those circumstances.

Seeing the little fox looking delicate and charming, Gu Ya was eager for more amusement and insisted on waking her to play for a while. The little fox, in a state of charming intoxication, was highly displeased by the disturbance and snapped her jaws open to bite. Unfortunately, every attempt missed its mark, never quite catching his fingers, which sent Gu Ya into peals of laughter.

After another half an hour or so, seeing that dusk was approaching, Gu Ya reluctantly took his leave, having arranged to return in a few days after his master concluded his seclusion.

Watching the child depart, Feng Zikang let out a breath of relief. Just as he was about to lift the illusionary veil concealing Wen Lingsu, he heard a sonorous Buddhist chant outside the thatched hut, an aged voice proclaiming a Gatha with robust vigor.

"Namo Bhaisajyaguru Vaiduryaprabha Tathagata!"

"I possess a bushel of bright pearls, long locked away by the dust of worldly cares; today, the dust has vanished, and the light shines forth, illuminating ten thousand peaks and rivers! Venerable Feng, might you grant this old monk a moment of your time?"

Feng Zikang pushed open the door to find the Chan Master Wule sitting serenely upon a rock, holding a lotus blossom, a toothy smile on his face. A brilliant aura radiated from him, truly making him resemble a Buddha or Bodhisattva.

He dared not delay, performing the proper respectful courtesies before looking up, "Reverend Master, have you come to enlighten me?"

The transmission of Buddhism places paramount importance on affinity. When a high monk discerns someone as having affinity, a casual enlightenment can greatly benefit the cultivator, and it also benefits the monk—this is known as dana (giving/charity), a necessary practice on the path to attaining the supreme and perfect enlightenment (Anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi).

Dana is categorized into three types. The lowest is the giving of wealth—offering gold, silver, and incense money in hopes of blessings in the next life; this is the practice of the mundane world.

The next level is called the giving of the body—sacrificing one's life for the Buddha. This is the pinnacle of glory, allowing passage directly to the Rūpadhātu (Form Realm) heaven after death. Dharma protectors in Buddhism often undertake this; their loyalty and fervor are truly worthy of song and lament.

The highest form is the giving of the Dharma—thus, enlightening juniors and propagating the teachings are the most crucial tenets of Buddhist practice. Only after completing this dana and fulfilling one's merit can one achieve the stages of Arhat, Bodhisattva, or Buddhahood.

Hearing Chan Master Wule chant the Buddhist Gatha, Feng Zikang felt a stir of realization and posed his question.

Chan Master Wule let out a hearty laugh, his two white eyebrows trembling ceaselessly, offering no immediate reply to his query.

"Venerable Feng, this old monk's nose is like a hound's; I can smell both tea fragrance and wine fragrance emanating from your humble room. Both are fine offerings for a guest. Why not invite this old monk in for a sit?"

A simple sit was not an issue; Feng Zikang did not begrudge offering fine tea and wine. However, there was a drunken immortal inside his quarters. If this venerable monk saw her, it surely wouldn't look good?

Despite this thought, Feng Zikang could not very well usher a senior figure away from his door. If the Master desired tea, he had no choice but to invite him in.

"The forms of the physical body are all illusory; the beauties seen through worldly eyes are merely footstools in this old monk's sight..."

Chan Master Wule showed no restraint, boldly sitting down upon the bamboo couch, chanting his verses as if hinting at something profound.

A footstool... Feng Zikang cursed internally. Could the abbot of Baima Temple be a lustful monk? Thankfully, Chan Master Wule remained relatively disciplined; he did not actually treat the inebriated immortal like a cushion to lean against, instead sitting upright in the lotus posture, maintaining the appearance of a disciplined, ascetic old monk.

"Reverend Master, would you prefer tea or wine?"

"The Snow Bamboo Ginseng Tea from the Small Bamboo Forest sounds grand; I must sample it. As for the two-hundred-year-old Bamboo Leaf Green, it would have been excellent, but alas, it seems to have been entirely wasted! Drinking it down in great gulps, how could one truly appreciate the subtle marvel of the Bamboo Leaf Green..."

Chan Master Wule shook his head, sounding somewhat disappointed. "I shall take the tea instead!"

Feng Zikang wondered if the monk had been spying just now. Although he did not expose the matter, every word seemed to hit the mark, as if the monk knew everything that had transpired.

Feng Zikang remained silent, summoning a mechanical man to fetch mountain spring water to boil, and brewed a pot of fragrant tea. He watched as the white foam rose, the leaves danced, and the green hue flourished. Chan Master Wule drank half a cup in one go and praised it loudly.

"Pure, cool, and sweet! It truly possesses an ethereal, transcendent quality! Master Ye did not deceive me!"

"Reverend Master, you have met my Master?"

Chan Master Wule nodded and smiled faintly. "Over a century ago, your Master visited White Horse Temple in Luoyang as a guest, and we shared a delightful conversation over tea..."

He set down his cup and looked up again. "Venerable Feng, in fact, this old monk has not only met your Master, but I have also encountered you before!"

This revelation struck Feng Zikang with profound shock!