The big man sighed, "My surname is Sun, and while walking in the secular world, I adopted the name Sun Su. My master is the abbot of the Great Ci’en Temple in Chang’an."

He did not reveal his master's name. This Abbot of the Great Ci’en Temple didn't seem particularly famous; at least Feng Zikang had never heard Ye Tiansheng mention him. How could such a person...

"My master achieved full enlightenment long ago. This current incarnation is merely to suppress the denizens of Hell, saving those above from a great calamity." Now, however, he possesses only the cultivation of the Nascent Soul realm."

"Only?"

Feng Zikang managed a wry smile. Indeed, someone who had once attained the Dao of Heaven descending to the Nascent Soul realm certainly warranted the use of a mere "only."

"So that means,"

What the big man just said—that his cultivation could not surpass his master’s, dropping in tandem with his master’s—implied that this man, too, was a master of the Nascent Soul stage!

Feng Zikang scrutinized him closely. The man was a full ten feet tall, yet his face was quite thin, his eyes flashing with sharp light. His clothes were ragged, and he carried a thick, crude stone cudgel. On the surface, he possessed none of the demeanor one would associate with a Nascent Soul master.

However, the overwhelming aura emanating from him was undeniable. If he had claimed to be higher than Nascent Soul, Feng Zikang would have believed it.

Sun Su’s eyes glittered as he continued recounting his master’s deeds. "Master begged the Buddha and obtained the Ten Thousand Sutras to spread across the world. Unfortunately, the people were stubborn and unteachable, ultimately rushing towards the paths of Hell. My master had no choice but to use his own flesh and blood to nourish these realms, hoping to postpone the final doom of Hell by one day."

Though his words were calm, his face was sorrowful.

Feng Zikang was stunned into silence. This approach was diametrically opposed to the ideals of his Demonic Path.

To sacrifice oneself for the sake of the world, to stop the coming of Hell’s end, disregarding one's own cultivation, life, and flesh—willingly enduring suffering and dedicating everything to the world. This man’s master seemed to be a true monk, a genuine Buddha.

Conversely, Feng Zikang’s Path of the Formless Heavenly Demon was to let the world serve one person; as long as he could pursue the Dao, who cared what happened to the common people?

These two starkly different Paths somehow resonated mysteriously.

"This... Great Master, why must you go to such lengths?"

Even a true monk shouldn't have to push himself this far. They have the Tathagata Buddha behind them, the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. If this world were to be destroyed, they could achieve Nirvana and silence, or reincarnate and cultivate anew; there were countless great chiliocosms where they could go. Why such persistence?"

"I wish I knew!"

The big man clutched his head, his face contorted in pain.

It was precisely because he couldn't understand that he suffered. Feng Zikang sighed, realizing this man’s heart was torn between the Dao of carefree wandering and the path of self-sacrifice to save the world—a conflict utterly beyond resolution.

"I can't think about it anymore!"

The big man roared suddenly, like a beast provoked, showing his fangs for a fleeting moment before they vanished.

"Let's go drinking instead!"

"Boundless intoxication solves a thousand worries. This wine truly is a wonderful thing."

The big man shouted strangely and turned to leave without a backward glance at Feng Zikang.

Feng Zikang smiled faintly. "Senior, I have fine wine in my carriage. Why don't we share a few cups?"

"You..."

The big man turned back, sniffed, and frowned slightly. "It's just common wine, but at least it has some flavor. Bring it out quickly."

Feng Zikang was momentarily taken aback by his keen nose. Hearing the man belittle the wine he carried, he could only offer a wry smile. He carried the brew secretly distilled by Ye Tiansheng back in the day—not the absolute finest, perhaps, but a celebrated vintage in the cultivation world, which he had brought along because the little fox loved it, insisting on bringing several jars.

Long Que emerged from the cloud carriage carrying several wine jars. The little fox panicked, pouncing forward and securing one jar for herself.

The big man roared with laughter. "You little fox likes drinking too? Excellent, let's have a competition!"

He exhaled gently. The clay seal on the nearest jar popped open, and he opened his mouth, sucking the fine wine in a graceful arc directly down his throat.

The little fox, unwilling to be outdone, tore the seal off a jar beside her with one paw and buried her head inside, drinking without stopping.

However, being small, she could hardly match the big man's gargantuan, dragon-like gulp. In a short while, the big man finished three jars and smiled contentedly, while the little fox coughed repeatedly, having barely finished half a jar.

"Hahahaha!"

The big man laughed heartily, clearly delighted. "Meeting you today, Little Brother, was fate. If you ever face any troubles in the future, just come find Old Sun at the Great Ci’en Temple. I bid you farewell for now!"

Having drunk the wine, his mood seemed much improved. He waved his hand, executed a somersault, and vanished, disappearing to an unknown destination.

Such an extraordinary person, like a divine dragon whose head and tail could not be seen at once; his sudden departure suited his identity. Feng Zikang smiled calmly and paid it no mind. He picked up the little fox, returned to his carriage, and continued towards the School of Military Strategy at Dragon Tiger Mountain.

He first returned to the Bamboo Thicket, allowing everyone to enter the Profound Realm. Without lingering, he soared on his sword toward Sunset Peak.

Yuan Buhuan was overjoyed to see him return.

"Nephew, you performed a great service in quelling the crisis of the Southern Barbarian beasts this time! Furthermore, in that battle formation against Liang Nüzhong of the Myriad Scroll Sect, you and your comrades brought great glory to the Military Strategy School of Dragon Tiger Mountain!"

Yuan Buhuan was entirely unconcerned about his disciple assisting Wu Ji in the battle against the Tang army; in fact, he seemed quite pleased. Feng Zikang thus understood the general attitude of the Sect Master.

Nevertheless, Feng Zikang began with a humble apology. "The situation was urgent, and I did not have time to report to the Sect Master before making a rash decision. If this had damaged the harmony between the Military Strategy School and the Confucian School..."

"What nonsense!"

Yuan Buhuan waved his hand grandly. "Such contests within military formations are inevitable between fellow practitioners. Unless you refuse to enter the world, even if you die in battle, it is merely fate. No one can be blamed."

Feng Zikang nodded, understanding his sect’s perspective, which naturally gave him confidence.

"However,"

Yuan Buhuan sighed. "We at the Military Strategy School of Dragon Tiger Mountain must still deliberate on whether to assist Wu Ji in contending for the realm. Judging by destiny, the fortunes of the Great Tang are nearly exhausted; it is time for a dynastic change. But those stubborn elders of the Three Teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—are determined to staunchly support the Tang."

"Then," Feng Zikang’s heart tightened, "what should we do?"

Yuan Buhuan sighed again. "On the fifteenth day of the eighth month, the Nine Streams of the Three Teachings will convene at Tianzhu Mountain to discuss this matter. If you are free, come with me!"

The Nine Streams of the Three Teachings discussing the great affairs of the world on the fifteenth of the eighth month?

Feng Zikang was inwardly horrified but revealed nothing on his face, nodding his agreement. Being invited by the Sect Master to accompany him was a huge honor and an opportunity to meet the leaders of the major sects.

Seeing him agree, Yuan Buhuan tossed him a Military Tally, which Feng Zikang caught.

"Keep this hidden safely. Within our Military Strategy School, only I and you possess one. Don't lose it."

Feng Zikang recognized this as a sign of the Sect Master's favor and bowed his thanks.

There were still over half a month until the fifteenth of the eighth month. Jade Pillar Mountain was not far from here, so there was no need to rush. Yuan Buhuan instructed him to return to Sunset Peak on the tenth day of the eighth month to travel with him.

Feng Zikang returned to the Profound Realm within the Bamboo Thicket and immediately immersed himself in diligent cultivation. His Demonic Fetus was now stable and growing step-by-step. Seizing this opportunity, his daily cultivation progress was rapid—a thousand miles in a day.

Every extra moment spent cultivating meant greater skill and divine abilities, providing more means of survival in the coming great tribulation. How could he afford to slacken?

Thus, after more than ten days, the appointed time with Yuan Buhuan arrived. Feng Zikang ascended Sunset Peak again. This time, traveling with the Sect Master, he could not bring the companions who usually served him; he left them in the Profound Realm to cultivate independently.

When Yuan Buhuan saw him arrive, he nodded with a smile and summoned a magnificent war chariot, the Sect Master’s customary vehicle for traveling. Feng Zikang observed that the chariot was not only massive but also equipped with various divine abilities; in a real fight, it would be formidable. He felt a measure of envy.

"Nephew, if you like it, perhaps this chariot can truly be yours someday."

Yuan Buhuan narrowed his eyes and smiled. Though his tone was jocular, it held deep meaning.

This was an implicit promise of the Sect Master position. Feng Zikang repeatedly claimed he dared not accept, feigning ignorance to bypass the implication. Even if Yuan Buhuan genuinely intended to pass the leadership to him, it was not a decision he could make alone, and it would likely take another hundred years before succession could even be considered. To be trapped by a casual remark now would be far too unwise.

Seeing his evasiveness, Yuan Buhuan also smiled without saying more.

They were both intelligent people; some words need only be hinted at.

This war chariot’s speed could not compare to that of a cloud vehicle. Although Tianzhu Mountain was distant, they reached it in only three days. Attendants were waiting to receive them, leading Yuan Buhuan to the Sect Master’s residence, as several other sect leaders had already arrived, requiring adherence to protocol for greetings.

Feng Zikang, however, was taken to the guest quarters. The area was fresh and elegant. Although built quickly within just a few days purely for this gathering, it lacked any trace of the mundane—a true display of immortal prowess.

Tianzhu Mountain was originally just a barren peak, reputed to be extremely far away, lacking in spiritual energy, and hosting no cultivation sects. It was only because the Nine Streams of the Three Teachings were unwilling to meet at any of their respective territories that this remote location was chosen for their grand discussion. Yet, through their immortal divine abilities, the mountain had been transformed, becoming vibrant and unique.

The pavilions and architecture possessed a distinct flavor. Even the ordinary guest rooms were saturated with spiritual energy, showing no sign of having been newly constructed in the last two or three months.

After settling in, Feng Zikang went out to wander and familiarize himself with the terrain.

Whenever he arrived at a new place, he would never sit still; he needed to understand his surroundings before feeling secure. With so many experts present, he naturally dared not use his Formless Heavenly Demon incarnation for reconnaissance; he had to investigate everything personally.

Tianzhu Mountain was both high and narrow, soaring straight into the clouds, offering unique scenery. Feng Zikang flew around the mountain on his sword, pausing to admire the view. At the base of the mountain, he noticed a bustling crowd of cultivators and felt curious. He descended from his sword to investigate.