Inner demon.
Even though he had just escaped from a mental thunderstorm, and the burning sensation still seemed to remain on his body, Yin Bansi's mood at this moment could be described as calm and composed.
He had completely expected to face the inner tribulation... He just didn't expect there would be two of them.
The golden lightning flashed down upon him, leaving no room for evasion. Yin half-closed his eyes, half-dead, and offered no futile resistance. While ordinary thunder tribulations could be resisted with magical weapons or by summoning powerful beings for assistance, this was not the case with the Heart Demon Tribulation. This kind of lightning tribulation was nearly pervasive, leaving no one untouched. Unless he could find a cultivator of comparable cultivation to himself to take the brunt of the strike, the Heart Demon Tribulation was practically unstoppable.
All cultivators in the world are afraid of inner demons. Although most of them claim that there is no creation without destruction, why should they let others take the blame for similar things?
Unlike the previous, long-simmering thunderstorm, this golden lightning struck with swift and fierce force. Not only did it descend at a speed far exceeding the previous one, but its power was equally impressive. The moment Yin Bansi was enveloped by the golden light, he shuddered, dragged back into a reverie that resembled a dream, a memory, and a demonic experience.
Before the last bit of self-sustaining consciousness dissipated, Yin Bansi had only one last thought in his mind: even though this inner demon was within his expectations, he was helpless.
After he was initially stripped of his bones and tendons, and after recovering largely thanks to the Medicine King Cauldron in his body, those people quickly helped him find a more suitable one that could, in a sense, replace the Medicine King Cauldron.
They hypocritically called him the Son of God.
————————
...Luo Jiujiang saw the content of Yin Bansi’s inner demon.
Unlike the last time when he only saw Yin Bansi being struck by the thunder and falling, this time the inner demon was completely reflected in the form of an illusion around Yin Bansi. The plot of the incident was clear enough, but the specific details were vague.
Yin Bansi remained suspended. Surrounding him were nearly a hundred monks standing in solemn silence. They all wore the same hemp robes, willow staffs, and reed sandals. Their clothing was uniformly uniform, and one could only judge their status by their position.
The middle-aged monk in the lead was full of energy. He paused, leaning on his staff and shouted loudly, "Today, we all return in triumph—we worship the Holy Son and pray for his blessing!"
The crowd knelt down in a mass.
The person in the center of the crowd, who was being worshipped and the one being prayed for, raised his head wordlessly. His bangs were a little too long, almost reaching his nose. His gloomy eyes could only be seen a little through the gaps in his hair, but it was not difficult to see the mockery in them.
Fuck the Holy Son. Yin Bansi thought, can anyone give the "Holy Son" a sip of water?
Probably not. Similar gatherings always drag on for a very long time. Unfortunately, in Yin Bansi's memory, he has never been able to drink a sip of water in the middle of any gathering.
Times make heroes. I was almost able to learn to ruminate, just a little bit. Yin Bansi thought with a touch of irony.
Luo Jiujiang frowned as he ran towards Yin Bansi.
Although the distance was far, as a Jindan cultivator, Luo Jiujiang's eyesight could still ensure that he could see some details worthy of attention, such as Yin Bansi's current situation.
It is not that “although he was hanging, he was being worshipped devoutly by hundreds of people.” Rather, it is that “although he was being worshipped devoutly by hundreds of people, he was still hung in the center.”
The two may only differ in word order, but the meanings are worlds apart.
Among the crowd, the cultivators who were further back in order and closer to the outer circle knelt deeper in their prostrations, with some even practically prostrating themselves. As for the cultivators in the inner circle, Luo Jiujiang noticed their looks.
This look cannot be said to be malicious. After all, the way everyone looks at Yin Bansi seems to indicate how precious he is. However, the value contained in precious people and precious items cannot be compared.
It seemed like Han Qianling was the person Luo Jiujiang cherished the most. When he looked at Qianling, he was full of cherishment and love. If anyone wanted to cut a wound on Qianling, Luo Jiujiang would want to give him a bloody hole that allowed air to pass through.
But if it were a precious object, the meaning would be different. Luo Jiujiang might admire its appearance, feel its value, and perhaps even decide to collect it because of its beauty and rarity. But as long as his teachers or parents asked for it, Luo Jiujiang would easily give this treasure away without even hesitation.
After all, Luo Jiujiang's nature is like this. Just like when Yin Bansi lost his Mirage Pearl, Luo Jiujiang just laughed it off.
In the eyes of those leaders, Luo Jiujiang saw their admiration for the treasures.
Admiring, satisfied and full of evaluation, as if Yin Bansi could be exchanged for some benefits at the next moment, or as if he was always ready to stuff Yin Bansi into a dusty treasure box, and then it would not see the light of day for many years.
It seemed that because he lowered his head, the only things he could see were the rows of kneeling people in sackcloth. Yin Bansi tilted his neck back, not even glancing at the group of "believers" on the ground, but just licked his dry and cracked lips over and over again.
After he established his foundation, the desire had become a distant feeling and memory.
However, it was this innate physiological need that was eventually overcome, that invisibly grabbed Yin Bansi's arm and dragged him back into the deep pool of the demon of memory.
Yin Bansi couldn't remember which ceremony this was, but these demonic cults had many reasons for worship, and the fixed procedures were always the same for him. His mood was exactly the same during every ceremony, and if his face hadn't been so badly disfigured, it would have been easy to tell.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com