Chapter 312: Sudden Turn of Events
Zhou Fei twisted two fingers together, and the woman's soul condensed into a snow-white pearl between his fingertips. He gently placed it into his sleeve, then looked up at the old monk of Jingang Temple. Gone was the earlier tone of casual conversation; he said bluntly, "Let's get back to the matter of that garment. I know you're involved. Zhong Qiu even came to the temple to find you about it."
But the old monk was still unwilling to discuss the main issue. His eyes were full of nostalgia as he gazed at the lush green forest outside the house. "I once had a junior brother. When we were young, we studied Buddhism together. He said he couldn't bear to hear stories of human suffering. Whenever he did, he couldn't help but think: even if there are Buddhas in the world, and the human realm is still like this, what good would it do even if he attained Buddhahood? Later, I left that small temple in our hometown. I wonder where that junior brother is now..."
"Has he become a Buddha or not?"
Zhou Fei suppressed the anger stirring in his heart and shook his head gently, sneering. "In such a small place, what true Buddha could be achieved? Old monk, you think too much."
The old monk shook his head. "I just want to know if my junior brother is still alive. It's been so many years. I really miss the rice porridge he used to make."
Zhou Fei was about to stand up. "I'm not going to go around in circles with you. I'll send you on your way. You can go ask your junior brother yourself whether he still knows how to make porridge down there."
The old monk's expression remained calm, and he smiled faintly. "If I help you, Zhou Fei, obtain the Arhat Golden Body from the palace, can you promise me one thing?"
Zhou Fei sat back down, finding this interesting. "'I'?"
The old monk stretched out his hand and rubbed his bald head, sighing emotionally. "I don't plan on being a monk anymore. I was abandoned at the temple gate as a child, taken in out of kindness by my master. Back then, my junior brother and I spent our days thinking all sorts of thoughts. Actually, I've always wanted a comb."
Zhou Fei burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.
The old monk took off his outer robe, folded it neatly, and set it aside. He said softly, "Please help her find a way to escape, so she's no longer trapped in this 'small place.'"
A flowing blue dress with wide sleeves appeared in a corner of the room.
The beauties outside the house had served Zhou Fei for many years and were well-versed in the world's wonders, yet even they were stunned when they saw the dress floating in mid-air.
The dress drifted over to the old monk, its hem slowly falling to the ground. Finally, one could vaguely make out a kneeling posture.
After removing his robe, the old monk's speech became less refined. "For so many years, serving as the lamp-lighting monk and sutra-preaching monk of this Jingang Temple, day after day, year after year, I have spoken tens of thousands of scriptures and Buddhist teachings to them. All kinds of people, from all walks of life—they listened, but they merely listened. The great battles on the battlefield still rage, the vendettas in the jianghu continue as before. Was I supposed to, as a monk, pick up a blade to eliminate the wicked and bring peace, killing to stop killing? To put a knife to their throats and force them to be good and turn to Buddhism?"
One sleeve of the dress lifted, covering the neckline, as if mimicking a woman covering her mouth to giggle.
The old monk stared at Zhou Fei. "Can you do it?"
Zhou Fei did not rush to give an answer. The old monk of Jingang Temple before him was a Buddhist sage of this world, skilled in banner calligraphy. His brushstrokes were like a vajra pestle, with a majestic momentum.
Zhou Fei sighed. "A businessman must still have some integrity. Old monk, don't you really know that if one obtains such a recognized blessing, one can leave this place?"
The old monk turned to look at the blue dress, saying helplessly, "She's different."
Although Zhou Fei was a banished immortal who had awakened very early, he did not dare claim to know all the rules. After all, before coming down, it was essential to suffer some genuine immortal techniques that sealed the soul.
Jingxin Zhai, Jingang Temple, Jingyang Lou.
The heads of these three places, after enduring calamities time and again and accumulating knowledge over the years, might not know less than he did.
The old monk smiled. "The fact that Benefactor Zhou is asking this question puts my mind completely at ease."
Zhou Fei muttered to himself, "For me, the best scenario is, of course, to take Zhou Shi away with me. But what if there's an accident? Like now—Zhou Shi has been severely wounded by someone, and there's almost no chance of him sneaking into the top ten. I then need to ensure that after I leave, sixty years later, Zhou Shi will have a better chance. Zhou Shi, Ya'er, Fan Wan'er—these people, no matter who, if they go to a larger world, as long as someone is willing to look after them, they will surely shine brightly."
Saying this, Zhou Fei couldn't hide his frustration. "Lu Fang, that fool! He saw through it, but he didn't truly break through. Where am I supposed to find him a master's wife or a junior sister again? And back then, he had the nerve to poke me with his sword..."
The old monk looked up.
Zhou Fei suddenly raised a hand, and a letter appeared between his fingers.
He lowered his head to read the contents, then burst into loud laughter. "Heaven helps me!"
He turned to look at the unparalleled beauties, each with their own unique charm, and felt a surge of emotion. His heart was full of regret. Not to mention the unattainable Tong Qingqing, who was of the same kind as him, but only comparing them to Nanyuan Kingdom's Queen Zhou Shuzhen, Jingxin Zhai's Fan Wan'er, and the demon cult's Ya'er—the martial arts aptitude of the women before him was far too inferior.
---
Wearing civilian clothes, Nanyuan Kingdom's Crown Prince Wei Yan led two people through the corridors and passages of the Crown Prince's mansion. One of them was Wei Yan's esteemed teacher, an old man of short stature, as skinny as a monkey, yet he was a veritable martial arts grandmaster in the world today.
The other person was Fan Wan'er, revered as a goddess by the martial arts disciples of Nanyuan Kingdom, a fairy who had emerged from the martial arts holy land Jingxin Zhai.
Wei Yan's expression was peculiar, somewhat embarrassed, but more than that, he felt relieved. However, hindered by his teacher's presence, he couldn't show it.
The old man who had imparted profound martial arts to Wei Yan fumed, "Good heavens! Hiding right under my nose all these years, and I never found him. When I meet him, I'll be sure to test the true skills of the top ten in the world. State Preceptor Zhong is a rare hero in this world, and I've always respected him. But I refuse to believe that a cook who just lights the fire can be any formidable!"
The old man grumbled incessantly.
It turned out that Jingyang Lou had just released a newly updated list of the top ten in the world, naming names, locations, and martial arts levels, with concise descriptions. People like Ding Ying and Yu Zhenyi were familiar faces, but one name had suddenly appeared, and his hiding place was right here in the Crown Prince's mansion in the capital of Nanyuan Kingdom. His identity? A cook.
A tall, elderly man, smelling of smoke, oil, and salt, took a moment's leisure, squatting outside an orderly and spotless kitchen. He was tossing golden-fried soybeans into his mouth one by one. Inside, his disciples and apprentices, whom he had trained himself, were busy preparing today's lunch.
When the old cook saw Crown Prince Wei Yan's figure, he let out a sigh, wrinkled his old face, and knew his peace was about to be disturbed.
Wei Yan ordered all the cooks, servants, and maids to disperse. The old cook didn't stop him, resigned to his fate as he squatted in place, sighing deeply.
The short old man, who had been so fierce earlier, lost all his aggressive momentum when faced with this grandmaster on the list. He remained silent, staring intently at this old codger who had hidden himself in plain sight within the court.
The old cook, however, kept glancing sideways at Fan Wan'er. He would look quickly, then immediately look away, as if he couldn't help himself, then look again. Even Fan Wan'er found it strange.
Wei Yan was puzzled. Could this old man be a lecher?
In the history of the top ten in the world, apart from Zhou Fei of Spring Tide Palace and the female Tong Qingqing, no one had ever really cared about earthly beauty anymore.
The old cook's first words were quite startling: "Do you know how many kinds of banished immortals there are?"
Wei Yan and the skinny old man exchanged glances, perplexed.
Because of her background at Jingxin Zhai, Fan Wan'er knew some inside information.
The old cook picked up a fried soybean and tossed it into his mouth. "In this world, only good food remains, never betraying. If they were to take even that away from me, then... then I'd just have to become a drunkard!"
The old cook stopped looking at Fan Wan'er, threw half of the remaining soybeans into his mouth all at once, clapped his hands, and stood up. "Banished immortals descend to the mortal world to experience the mundane. One kind is like Zhou Fei and Feng Qingbai, who know themselves early on, knowing what they seek in this human realm. So their actions and conduct seem shocking to us, but in their eyes, it's only natural. However, this kind of banished immortal does not seek anything too profound. Then there is your Jingxin Zhai's founder, Tong Qingqing, who seems to be hiding from something."
"The second kind is like Lu Fang, who awakens relatively late but will definitely wake up at some critical juncture."
"There is another kind, and this is just my speculation, where they never fulfill their wishes in their lifetime, and thus remain unable to wake up. They live in a daze, life after life, until their homeland becomes a distant place, and a foreign land becomes home. This kind of person tends to be special—they often have outstanding appearances and high martial arts talent, but in the eyes of outsiders, they always fall just short of the highest achievement, missing it by that little bit each time."
The old cook stared at Fan Wan'er again. "But sometimes, these people inevitably carry a flavor of 'not following the rules.' What common folk call 'being possessed' or 'haunted by a ghost'—a small part of that is related to this. Little girl, have you noticed anything strange about yourself recently?"
Fan Wan'er hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Twice."
The old cook nodded, smiling warmly. "Old demon Ding is formidable! In the human realm, there is no one he cannot kill. In the human realm, there is no one he cannot forgive. He's already no worse than that madman from back then, and he's smarter. I think this time, he will likely get what he wants. Yu Zhenyi wants to protect this human realm, which in my view is certainly impressive, but in the eyes of some, his vision might still be too narrow. As for State Preceptor Zhong Qiu, who has always been suppressed by Yu Zhenyi, in recent years he has traveled alone across the mountains and rivers of the four kingdoms and the barbarian lands of the eight winds. I think his future will be brighter."
The old cook sighed. "As for me, the more I say, the more I do, the more I'm wrong. I'll just mind my own business and wait for death. I used to think about making a stir, but as time went on, the more I saw, the less spirit I had. In this upheaval, Ding the demon and Yu Zhenyi are mortal enemies. With the two of them keeping watch, this time, no one on the list will escape. As for me, I'm no longer curious about what a banished immortal really is. I only hope to live another twenty or thirty years, and that will be enough. So..."
The old cook struck without warning. He brought his two fingers together in a sword gesture and pierced several of his own key acupoints. Blood gushed out immediately. His aura, which in the eyes of Yu Zhenyi or the 'banished immortal' Chen Ping'an had seemed nearly 'unified with the dao,' instantly collapsed. From being the top grandmaster in this world, he plummeted all the way down, becoming a master slightly inferior to the skinny old man. He had chosen to voluntarily withdraw from this surging conflict.
The old cook's face was ashen, but his smile was one of relief. He asked Crown Prince Wei Yan, "In such a large Crown Prince's mansion, can it afford to keep a worthless old man like me for another twenty or thirty years? Of course, if there's ever a time when you need me to lend a hand, Your Highness only needs to say the word."
Wei Yan nodded. "Master, just stay in the mansion and rest. I will never disturb your cultivation without reason."
---
At the summit of Guniu Mountain, Zhou Shuzhen, who had just reached the foot of the mountain only to turn back, held a sealed letter and smiled bitterly, handing it to Yu Zhenyi.
Yu Zhenyi took it, read its contents, and frowned. "What's going on?"
Zhou Shuzhen said helplessly, "It certainly came from Jingyang Lou, but it's definitely not Jingyang Lou's doing."
Yu Zhenyi looked up at the sky.
When one stands high enough, looking at the world from a god's perspective, the human realm appears as a magnificent scattering of tiny lights, but it's hard to focus on any single person closely.
Yu Zhenyi knew this well.
For instance, in his vision, he could see Ding the demon, Chen Ping'an, and Lu Fang in Zhuangyuan Lane. Their lights were particularly dazzling.
Further away, there were two points from Jingang Temple, and four from the Crown Prince's mansion, with the brightest of them suddenly dimming.
This kind of distant observation didn't consume Yu Zhenyi's accumulated spiritual energy over the years. But if he wanted to 'look closely' at a particular person, it would cost him a considerable price.
---
At the residence near Zhuangyuan Lane, the old man wearing a silver lotus crown, Ding the demon, suddenly received a secret letter from Jingyang Lou.
Seeing the end of the letter, the old man's eyes lit up.
Such a good thing?
Even Ding Ying felt a bit tempted.
He glanced at Cao Qinglang and clicked his tongue. "Little brat, you're in for some good fortune!"
As for that outsider, he had definitely been set up by someone, and badly at that. Otherwise, there was no way he would have provoked such severe suppression.
In Ding Ying's knowledge of history, during every sexagenary cycle in the past, there had almost never been such blatant interference. No banished immortal had ever been hammered down like this.