Chapter 97097 Back
Chapter 97
Yingji once lived in the world of cultivators, envying their longevity and always feeling anxious about her own brevity. Now that she has a long life, she has plenty of time to do what she wants, but she often finds this endless existence a bit unbearable.
Fortunately, I had something to do, so it didn't seem so painful and boring.
This is the one hundred and seventy-sixth year since "that place" was torn apart.
The Nine Realms and Twelve Kingdoms were so insignificant within the vast expanse of the Great Desolation that they seemed unworthy of such a title. Whenever people from outside mentioned them, they simply casually referred to them as "that place."
At first, people were shocked that two little gods would actually conduct such an experiment; it was truly absurd. "That place" became a popular topic of conversation, but over time, the place and the incident seemed to be forgotten.
Yingji can never forget it.
She always holds a grudge.
So this year, a major event happened that shocked everyone.
A woman dressed in red came out of "that place" and went to Wanque Mountain alone. She smashed the Wanque Mountain, which contained the most spiritual energy of heaven and earth. The two little immortals who nominally went to reflect on their mistakes but were actually playing chess and drinking tea had their marrow extracted and their elixirs shattered, and their heads were thrown into the sky.
There was an uproar.
One hundred and seventy-six years was a long time, so long that many outsiders had long forgotten the absurdity of the betting experiment, and so long that many people who had left that place had also faded the resentment of being fooled. One hundred and seventy-six years was indeed a long time, so long that Yingji had long lost her patience.
One hundred and seventy-six years is a very short time. In just one hundred and seventy-six years, Ying Ji had the ability to destroy Wanque Mountain.
At that time, Ling Jiayan happened to be near Wanque Mountain and rushed there as soon as he got the news.
He saw Ying Ji, covered in blood, emerging from the shattered Wanque Mountain. Blood stained her red dress, dripping down her face, making her body sticky and wet. But Ling Jiayan felt as if she had emerged from a raging fire.
In his stunned state, he saw Yingji's body tremble. He came to his senses and wanted to go forward to help her. However, Mujin and Bajiao got there first and held Yingji steady.
Yingji had many wounds on her body, but she didn't feel any pain, just tired. She glanced at Ling Jiayan who was rushing over here, leaned on Mu Jin's shoulder, and closed her eyes deeply.
She had accomplished one more thing.
Yingji had a very long dream, in which she retraced the path she had taken to her past. From Kongfan's memories, she clearly felt that he had been in her past. So, in the dream, when she was bullied as a child, she was no longer afraid. She always looked towards Kongfan, as if she knew he was always standing by her side.
Yingji cried in her dream, her tears soaking her pillow. She opened her eyes in her bed and stared blankly for a moment, letting her red eyes subside before getting up.
She pushed the door open with a creak, stood at the door, and looked at the sea of flowers in the distance, and a group of figures chasing and having fun in the sea of flowers.
"Aying, you're awake." Ling Jiayan walked forward.
"Thank you for sending me back." Yingji spoke, her voice a little hoarse.
Ling Jiayan swallowed what he was about to say and immediately went to pour Yingji a cup of warm tea.
Two people sat opposite each other under the apricot tree.
Ling Jiayan sighed and asked, "Why bother? You had to be so stubborn and cause such a big commotion. The Divine Emperor has already punished you. Aren't you afraid of his blame?"
Yingji's expression was indifferent, and her tone was also indifferent. "If it's unfair, you might as well step down from that position. Someone else can take the position of God Emperor."
Ling Jiayan was dumbfounded, wanting to cover Yingji's mouth. After a long while, he smiled helplessly: "Aying, you will never be content no matter where you go."
Yingji lowered her eyes dejectedly, stroking the dull and even cracked Buddhist beads with her fingertips.
How can I spend these long years if I don’t find something to do?
"By the way," Ling Jiayan continued, "there's one thing I don't understand. Why haven't I seen you use the Dragon Enlightenment Technique?"
Ling Jiayan thought that if Ying Ji had used the Dragon Enlightenment Technique, she would not have been injured so badly.
Yingji paused while stroking her Buddhist beads and whispered, "I don't use his power to kill people."
All his rules and regulations were broken for her, but now she is stubbornly sticking to them for him.
Ling Jiayan was stunned for a moment and asked, "You never use his power?"
"Not really. I force myself to save one person every year, and use his power when I do. Then..." Ying Ji raised her left hand, pointed into the air, and drew a falling star symbol. "Occasionally, I use his power to draw a falling star symbol and watch the fireworks."
Ling Jiayan's expression became complicated. Soon, he remembered something else and asked uncertainly, "Did you... succeed in refining the demon?"
Ying Ji raised her eyelids to look at him in surprise and asked, "How could I possibly fuse his life pill with those filthy things?"
The art of refining demons requires nine ingredients, and success requires the integration of all nine. But since Yingji obtained the Bodhi Pill, she hasn't touched demon refining techniques again. Firstly, she couldn't possibly combine Kongfan's Life Pill with those messy items, and secondly, she no longer needed to practice demonic arts.
Ling Jiayan thought to himself: As expected.
Then his heart skipped a beat again.
In other words, Ying Ji smashed Wanque Mountain alone without using Kong Fan's power or any evil demon-refining techniques. All of this was achieved through the practice of Tearing the Sky Queen, a skill she acquired bit by bit from scratch?
You should know that the two little gods in Wanque Mountain are almost 100,000 years old.
This is really scary.
Thinking of Yingji's past, Ling Jiayan was happy for her. But when he saw Yingji's drooping eyebrows and a gloomy expression, Ling Jiayan lowered the corners of his lips and asked cautiously, "Wanque Mountain has also been destroyed, so what do you want to do next?"
"Why do I feel like you've asked me this question so many times?" Ying Ji twitched her lips. "Why, are you afraid that I'll have nothing to do and commit suicide?"
Ling Jiayan considered his words carefully and said, "If you really have nothing to do, why not devote yourself to cultivation? After all, you have talent, perseverance, and determination. Then... pull down the God Emperor, and you will take the position?"
Ling Jiayan bit his tongue, regretting that he was only concerned with comforting others and only drawing promises that were a little too big.
Yingji looked at him strangely, but knowing that he was kind, she smiled helplessly and said, "I have something to do."
"What's up?"
"wait."
Ling Jiayan opened his mouth, wanting to persuade Yingji not to wait for someone who would never come back. Having fallen into the Soul-Extinguishing Well, his soul had been shattered. To this day, there was no longer a Bodhi tree in the world, and the soul lamps in the sacrificial hall had gone out. Kongfan would never return.
But looking at the thin and lonely Ying Ji in front of him, Ling Jiayan swallowed his words.
After a moment of silence, Yingji said, "Didn't you say last time that you wanted to accompany me to the temple? I want to go and see it now."
Go and see the well-known Bodhi Buddha Emperor.
The closer we got to Zhaoxi, the more temples we saw along the way. There were also vast expanses of bodhi trees. Sadly, all of them were withered, leaving a desolate scene.
The moment Kongfan died, there was no more Bodhi tree left in the world.
The Bodhi Temple was heavily lit with incense. Monks came in and out from time to time, and mortals also came to pay their respects occasionally.
Yingji stepped over the high threshold, entered the hall, and saw the tall statue at first sight.
She walked slowly to the statue and looked up.
Inside the Bodhi Hall, the Buddha Emperor being worshipped surprisingly didn't resemble a monk. The statue sat cross-legged on a cushion, the soul lamp before him dim. He wore Buddhist beads in his hand, his eyes closed as he chanted, yet his long black hair hung low, a strange, enchanting flame pattern between his brows.
It was exactly the same as in Yingji's dream.
Yingji raised her hand and gently stroked the statue with her fingertips. While looking up at the statue's closed brows, she slowly walked behind the statue.
On the back of the statue, the life story of Bodhi Buddha Emperor is engraved.
He is the Buddha, who saves people from suffering and is compassionate and merciful, and is worshipped and respected by millions.
A prophecy foretold that he would eventually fall to the devil and destroy the world. Later, while saving the world, he was indeed infected with the devil's aura. Not wanting the prophecy to come true, he sat in meditation and passed away just before falling. That day, the Buddha's light spread throughout the world, saving countless demonic spirits.
He passed away in the Buddha's light, abandoned his identity as the Buddha Emperor, abandoned his supreme Buddha power, and entered the cycle of reincarnation again.
"The Buddha Emperor reincarnated and returned to Buddhism. Originally, with his Buddha's heart and enlightenment, he would eventually return. However..."
Yingji turned around and looked at the person who was speaking - Daozhen holding a broom.
Yingji looked at him for a moment and asked, "So you followed?"
Daozhen gazed up at the statue of the Buddha Emperor and nodded devoutly. He was a devotee of the Buddha Emperor and had guarded the temple for many years. Upon learning of the reincarnation of the deceased Buddha Emperor, he immediately followed him.
"I want to ask," Yingji said seriously, "how did you feel when you found him when he was just born and deliberately gave him the real name Kongfan, which no one here dared to call him. And when you heard him call you Grandmaster?"
Daozhen's mouth twitched.
Kong Fan is his ancestor, his ancestor for thousands of generations.
Yingji withdrew her gaze and looked back at the statue, her eyes falling on the soul lamp in front of the statue that could not be lit.
With a "clang" sound, the dark soul lamp suddenly lit up.
"How, how is this possible?" Daozhen was stunned.
Outside the temple, a young monk's puzzled voice was heard: "Huh? Why did this Bodhi tree sprout?"
"What? Sprouting?" Daozhen stumbled out and almost fell.
Yingji stared at the flame in the soul lamp. She stretched out her hand and put it against the soul lamp. The flame burned her palm through the lampshade.
Ling Jiayan arrived late and stepped over the threshold. "Aying, I just saw a lot of monks going to the back. What happened?"
Ying Ji didn't turn around and said, "Brother, I want to do something else."
Could it be that coming to the Bodhi Buddha Emperor's temple would let her let go this time? Ling Jiayan was overjoyed and sincerely happy for her. He asked cheerfully: "What are you going to do? I'll accompany you!"
"Look for him."
Ling Jiayan: “…Ah?”
Yingji felt the burning heat in her palm and murmured, "He's born."
There is one thing that only Yingji knows in this world.
That day, when she came out of the Soul-Destroying Well, the earth shook and the mountains trembled. Others thought that the Soul-Destroying Well had collapsed, but in fact, she had smashed through the Soul-Destroying Well and the Well of Reincarnation before she came out.
The Samsara Well and the Soul-Extinction Well were right next to each other, and just before she jumped into the Soul-Extinction Well, the Samsara Well had just been opened by Venerable Youquan. So she wanted to give it a try, to see if there was a one in a million chance that she could send Kong Fan's soul into the Samsara Well.
Yingji's gray eyes gradually brightened. She raised her head and looked at the statue of the Bodhisattva, with a surging fire burning fiercely in her eyes.
One hundred and seventy-six years is really a long time.
Yingji couldn't help but wonder, who would be the one coming back? Would it be the Bodhi Buddha Emperor, worshipped by millions, or her own Kongfan?
It doesn't matter who it is.
It doesn't matter who it is.
As long as he comes back.
From that day on, Yingji traveled all over the mountains and rivers, up to the sky and down to the earth, searching every corner and going to every temple.
Seventeen years later.
The bustling streets were packed with people, and Yingji walked against the crowd onto the viewing arch bridge. She subconsciously reached for the Buddhist beads at her waist.
I don't know when the red thread broke, and I don't know where the Buddhist beads are left.
Yingji's heart suddenly tightened and hurt badly.
"Brother, is this a Buddhist rosary?"
Hearing a child's voice from afar, Yingji immediately turned around, pushed through the crowded crowd with great effort, and followed the sound.
Seeing two monks, one large and one small, dressed in snow-white robes, standing under the bridge from afar, Yingji said anxiously, "Those are my things! They are just ordinary beads with no spiritual power. Give them back to me!"
There is only this one beads left out of the eighteen Buddhist beads. It is the thing Kong Fan left for her. Not to mention losing it, if it is just touched by someone else, Ying Ji will want to kill someone!
The monk in snow-white robes who was bending over to pick up the Buddhist beads stood up.
"The female donor said this is an ordinary bead without any spiritual power," the snow-robed monk turned around, "but it is glowing."
Ying Ji stared blankly at her Buddhist beads lying on the jade-bone palm of the snow-robed monk, emitting a light golden luster and floating gently.
After a long while, Yingji finally managed to remove her gaze from the revitalized Buddhist beads. She slowly moved her gaze upwards until she finally caught sight of the pair of unforgettable, clear eyes.
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