He was, after all, a formidable expert at the Core Condensation stage, yet bound by rules and agreements, he was stuck here in Cihua Temple, nothing more than a mere visiting monk. Though his demeanor was erratic, no one dared to truly bully him, but these coarse, menial chores were unavoidable.
Soon, the grand thirty-six-day Dharma ceremony was set to begin. Abbot Yanran had not adopted his advice, nor had he been included among the eighty-one revered monks designated for the chanting.
These so-called revered monks were merely a motley collection of monks cobbled together by Cihua Temple; even the young novices who had only just taken the tonsure three or four years ago had secured a spot, and everyone else was eager enough.
But Monk Hui Ji still didn't make the cut. The main issue was that no one could be certain whether he might suddenly fly into a rage halfway through the ceremony. This time, major benefactors were attending; even the slightest error was unacceptable. If they succeeded, Cihua Temple could subsist for years without further donations.
“Those two definitely have something strange about them.”
Monk Hui Ji was now certain that these two showing up out of the blue to organize such a grand ritual were surely after the Wind-Calming Pearl. However, with so many people present, and with his own distant surveillance, it wouldn't be easy for them to steal the pearl silently!
“True Man Nu, I won’t let you succeed!”
Monk Hui Ji clenched his fists, grinding his teeth.
※
“Zikang, will this really work?” True Man Nu looked somewhat apprehensive.
Feng Zikang’s switcheroo plan seemed simple, but executing it was far from easy, especially with that mad monk staring him down relentlessly. If he were discovered, it would surely lead to a ferocious battle.
True Man Nu did not fear a fight, but the nature of the deed itself—a patriarch of a righteous sect plotting to seize another’s treasure—was inherently improper. Though he knew it would be returned in a few days, if caught in the act, who would believe him?
Feng Zikang smiled faintly. “Senior Nu need not worry. While Monk Hui Ji watches closely, the Abbot restrains him. As long as we can pass muster openly, he will be forced to swallow this bitter pill in silence.”
He was utterly confident, having already discerned that this Monk Hui Ji was certainly peculiar. For someone at the Core Condensation stage to be ordered around by a mere mortal with no magical powers or divine abilities—his intent in guarding the Wind-Calming Pearl could not be simple.
Though the full truth remained obscure, Feng Zikang knew how to exploit this weakness. Once Monk Hui Ji was prevented from focusing too directly on the Wind-Calming Pearl, dealing with a group of mortals thereafter would be child’s play.
High noon.
The weather was sweltering, and the monks’ shaved heads glistened with oily sweat, but the thought of the impending ceremony and the wealth it would generate filled them with joy.
“Clang! Clang!”
As the ancient, distant sound of a bell echoed, the thirty-six-day ceremony was about to commence. At that very moment, the sky suddenly darkened!
It was as if vast black clouds had swallowed the sun overhead, plunging everything into an oppressive, pitch-black obscurity.
“Not good.”
Monk Hui Ji, diligently working in the vegetable patch, felt a sudden, sinister premonition. He dropped his hoe and shot toward the main hall in mid-air.
Feng Zikang sat calmly in a corner of the hall, watching the monks descend into chaos without changing his expression. Motionless, a faint smile played on his lips.
“Hah! Old Man Nu, Young Man Feng, how dare you steal the treasure of my Cihua Temple! Hand it over immediately!”
Monk Hui Ji burst through the doors. He had discovered that his connection to the Wind-Calming Pearl was severed. Enraged, he rushed to Feng Zikang and bellowed his threat.
“Impudence!”
The Abbot was startled and shouted a stern rebuke. He reached out and touched the box beneath the brocade cloth covering the Wind-Calming Pearl; it was still there—his first reaction when the darkness fell had been to pull the box close.
Just then, the clouds dispersed, the rain ceased, and the sky brightened once more.
Feng Zikang sipped his tea leisurely, glancing sideways at Monk Hui Ji. “Abbot, this master seems greatly displeased with us. Does my esteemed Young Master Feng look like someone who would plot to seize one of your beads? If you harbor such suspicion, perhaps this ceremony need not proceed!”
The Abbot jumped, quickly stepping forward with a fawning smile. “My benefactor, please forgive him! This Monk Hui Ji is a visiting monk whose mind is somewhat unbalanced; he speaks nonsense all day long. Please pay him no mind.”
“Hmph.”
Feng Zikang snorted coldly. “Abbot, you had better check if your treasure is truly missing, so my name can be cleared of suspicion.”
“It won’t be missing, it won’t be missing!”
Though the Abbot spoke those words, he still uncovered the brocade cloth and peered into the box. The Wind-Calming Pearl remained, shimmering with a tranquil and peaceful light.
“Insolent fool!”
The Abbot brought his wooden fish down hard on Monk Hui Ji’s bald head. “To needlessly suspect a benefactor, your sin is deep; you will fall into the Hell of the Tongue Cutting! For the next few days, you are forbidden from working in the vegetable patch. I sentence you to meditate in the Quiet Room, not to emerge until the ceremony is over!”
“Abbot—”
Monk Hui Ji tried to protest, but at that moment, he suddenly regained his connection to the Wind-Calming Pearl. A swirl of confusion filled him. The Abbot waved his hand, and several burly attendant monks rushed in, dragging him toward the Quiet Room in the back.
Monk Hui Ji could only offer a bitter smile, daring not to resist, still unable to comprehend what had just—
The Abbot obsequiously approached Feng Zikang. “Benefactor, please calm your anger. The disturber has been dealt with by me. Shall we commence the ceremony now?”
Feng Zikang nodded, feigning lingering annoyance. “Abbot, let me remind you: once the ceremony begins, no one else may enter to cause trouble. Furthermore, the brocade cloth covering the temple’s treasure must not be lifted again until the thirty-six days are complete. During these thirty-six days, we will remain here in the main hall to accompany it!”
The Abbot proclaimed with a loud Buddhist chant, “Amitabha. The benefactor’s piety moves heaven!”
When Monk Hui Ji heard they would not leave the main hall for thirty-six days, a murmur arose in his mind. Were they truly not after the Wind-Calming Pearl? Or would they wait until the end to make their move? Since the pearl was safe for the time being, he could at least meditate in peace.
Amidst the chanting, Feng Zikang and True Man Nu sat like painted statues, silent and unmoving. At night, they rested in a corner of the hall, never leaving the main sanctuary except for meals in the side hall and necessary visits to the privy.
The ceremony had been underway for more than a day.
※
“Heh heh, Senior Nu, what did I tell you?”
Several hundred miles away from Cihua Temple, the other Feng Zikang and True Man Nu were laughing heartily at each other’s company.
Feng Zikang held the Wind-Calming Pearl; its light flowed, quite wondrously.
True Man Nu nodded in admiration. “I never realized, Zikang, that you possessed such a marvelous art of illusion. Truly magical across all schools of thought.”
This illusionary technique was True Man Nu’s inherent divine ability. He assumed Feng Zikang had learned it through mutual exchange among the myriad sects. Feng Zikang smiled faintly, feeling no need to inform him that this illusion originated from the Spirit Witch Bone.
At the start of the ceremony, he had deliberately caused earth-shaking tremors, drawing Monk Hui Ji out to intervene—only to find nothing there. Once the monk was confined to the Quiet Room in the back, Feng Zikang had taken the Wind-Calming Pearl, then used the art of illusion combined with the art of puppet manipulation to create two simulacra of himself and True Man Nu within the temple.
After all, maintaining a few dozen decoys would suffice. Once the Wind-Calming Pearl was used up, they could quietly send them back.
“Now that the Wind-Calming Pearl is secured, Senior Nu, please accompany me back to Lizhou to deal with that True Man Hongye!”
True Man Nu naturally agreed and accompanied him to Lizhou.
Wu Ji was overjoyed to see Feng Zikang return. When he had fled in disarray that day, everyone had been quite worried. Luo Kedi had even gotten misty-eyed, his address of “Martial Uncle” trembling.
Only Master Xu Wan maintained his usual placid demeanor, his face radiating gentle amusement. He first paid his respects to True Man Nu.
“I never imagined that a mere trip by Martial Brother Feng would bring the assistance of True Man Nu of Mount Emei, whose righteous fire burns the Nine Heavens. Poor Daoist Hongye is in for trouble now.”
“Oh?”
True Man Nu narrowed his eyes and chuckled. “Little friend, you actually recognize this old man?”
Master Xu Wan bowed low. “My ambition is to clarify the entanglements of the cultivation world; important figures must naturally be unforgettable. Senior True Man Nu is the patriarch of the Emei Sect among the Seventy-Two Great Sects. How could I not know you?”
The others nearby, hearing the true magnitude of this unassuming old man’s background, sucked in a sharp breath and hastened to salute him.
True Man Nu chuckled heartily. Later that evening, when alone with Feng Zikang, he revealed a strange look. “Zikang, I always believed you to be the foremost among the third-generation disciples. Yet, in this Great Calamity of Heaven and Earth, quite a few talents have emerged. This Xu Wan… I cannot see through him at all. I wonder how he knows of me.”
Feng Zikang’s heart tightened. He had always known Master Xu Wan was extraordinary, but for True Man Nu to admit he couldn’t discern his depths made the man even more mysterious and unfathomable.
Though these thoughts crossed his mind, he merely laughed it off aloud. “Senior Nu need not worry. Since this person is a friend and not an enemy, we can set him aside for now. Tomorrow, after we deal with Daoist Hongye, you will leave, and I must return to the Military Household on Dragon and Tiger Mountain. We will part ways temporarily.”
True Man Nu nodded. “This Great Calamity of Heaven and Earth certainly offers many opportunities, and your great fortune allows you to seek breakthroughs at moments of life and death. However, such fortune should not be squandered. When there is nothing pressing, close your doors and cultivate to raise your power; only then can your fortune be sustained, lest your fortune be depleted before the Great Calamity ends—that would be dangerous!”
Feng Zikang accepted the counsel solemnly, knowing this was the sincere advice of an elder, and felt profound gratitude. Even though he held the Investiture of the Gods tablet and possessed vast fortune, no person’s fortune was infinite. If he exhausted it through overuse, he might be caught in the final cataclysm before the Great Calamity concluded—perhaps leading to his demise.
As the destined recipient of this era’s trials, his constant journeys inevitably led to complications. Therefore, unless it was a critical juncture, hiding away to cultivate was the proper path!
“Thank you for your instruction, Senior Nu!”
Feng Zikang gained a deeper understanding of the Great Calamity and the nature of fortune, allowing him to proceed with far greater confidence.
True Man Nu nodded, seeing his acuity and willingness to learn.
“Tomorrow, after I cut down Hongye, I will also incur karma and likely need to enter seclusion for a period. But if anything urgent arises, you can still find me directly using my Emei token talisman sword!”
He pulled out a gleaming golden sword-shaped talisman token from his robes and handed it to Feng Zikang. If you wish to know what happens next, please log onto www. [URL REDACTED] for more chapters and support.