“Baili, your beauty… I remember it all.”
Ji Yue Old Ancestor swept his sleeve, and spiritual patterns shimmered in his hand, conjuring a phantom of Xuanji Holy Lord. Xuanji Holy Lord, Baili, possessed a figure of peerless grace, her curves exquisite, her beauty unparalleled. Her three thousand zhang of white hair cascaded around her delicate form, revealing alluring contours, while her long, fair jade legs stood poised in the void. Her beautiful face remained utterly serene, her eyes devoid of emotion, gazing down coldly at Ji Yue Old Ancestor.
“Yes…”
“This is the feeling!”
“Baili is truly unique.”
Ji Yue Old Ancestor’s mind replayed scenes of his pursuit of Xuanji Holy Lord over several epochs. In truth, Xuanji Holy Lord had never uttered a single word to him. In previous epochs, when the Domain Gates opened, he would venture into the Ancient Desolate Forbidden Zone to seek her out. He would speak, and Xuanji Holy Lord would simply listen. A hint of bitterness touched Ji Yue Old Ancestor’s heart; after all, he was a Quasi-Dao Supreme, capable of turning the Eastern Wilds upside down with a flick of his wrist, annihilating anyone who dared defy him. Xuanji Holy Lord was the sole exception.
Yet, he wasn't the only one in the Ancient Desolate Forbidden Zone to be so utterly ignored. Strongmen from all Five Domains had been captivated by Xuanji Holy Lord. Thinking of this, his heart found a measure of balance. It seemed Xuanji Holy Lord was truly fair, treating everyone with the same indifference. With this thought, Ji Yue Old Ancestor looked at the phantom of Xuanji Holy Lord and murmured, “Baili, in this epoch, I am destined to conquer the Supreme Path. Your strength, however, is not enough to become a Supreme. Come with me, be my Dao Companion, and I will take you to conquer the Outer World!”
He had made his choice. This time, if Xuanji Holy Lord was willing to come, that would be for the best. If not, he would take her by force! He had waited far too long. Though he already had many Dao Companions, Xuanji Holy Lord remained his irreplaceable white moonlight. “Baili! I will definitely take you away from the Tai Chu Realm!”
***
In the Northern Plains, amidst boundless glaciers, heavy snow fell, blanketing the world in a vast expanse of white. The Ice Frost Empress, her figure cold and enchanting, moved through the void, standing directly above the Extreme Cold Three Thousand Flames. Her face was exquisitely beautiful, her features delicate, and her body, wrapped in an ice-blue gown, displayed a perfect, alluring curve.
“The Extreme Cold Three Thousand Flames is almost at its peak,” the Ice Frost Empress said softly. “We’ve nurtured it for ten thousand years; it’s finally nearing completion.”
Behind her, several handsome men gently lifted the hem of her gown. “Your Majesty, if you refine this Spirit Fire, your strength will surely soar.”
The Ice Frost Empress gazed into the void. “The power of extreme cold is, after all, too singular. If it could fuse with another fiery spirit fire, the Extreme Cold Three Thousand Flames would undergo a qualitative leap, transforming completely.”
One of the men chimed in, “With Your Majesty’s destiny, once the Domain Gates open, you will surely find another spirit fire. Perhaps someone will even deliver one before the Domain Gates even open.”
The Ice Frost Empress’s lips curved into a faint smile, pleased by the flattery. “Let’s hope so.”
The men offered more compliments, their faces full of deference.
“Any news on North King?” the Ice Frost Empress then asked.
“North King is waiting for the Domain Gates to open,” one replied. “He plans to attain Supreme in the Southern Wilds, and while he’s there, he intends to bring back Xuanji Holy Lord.”
The Ice Frost Empress shook her head dismissively. “After all these years, North King still can’t forget Xuanji Holy Lord. Still, it’s good he’s going to the Southern Wilds. I’ll attain Supreme here in the Northern Plains, and he can do so there.”
***
In the Western Desert, the land stretched desolate, an endless expanse of desert dunes piled high. Fierce gales constantly swept across the earth, leveling one sand dune only to build another. On the fringes of this wasteland, numerous spiritual peaks hosted countless temples, radiating brilliant golden light. This was the Western Desert, the dominion of Buddhism, where Buddhist cultivators from all Five Domains gathered, seeking the profound Great Vehicle Buddhist teachings.
Within the many Buddhist temples, colossal ancient Buddha statues stood tall, bathed in a golden glow under the setting sun, their golden Buddhist scriptures flowing with profound mystery. Facing off against the Buddhist sects was the Demon Race, though unlike the Southern Wilds, the Western Desert demons had not established a Demon Court; their forces remained scattered.
At Tianling Mountain, the supreme Buddhist cultivation ground of the Western Desert, a middle-aged man in a grey monk’s robe, with a clean face and refined, elegant demeanor, was Minghui Master. He was one of the high monks designated by Tianling Mountain to contend for the Supreme Fruit Position in this epoch.
Brilliant Buddhist intent surged around him, like golden light illuminating the world. He turned to a monk beside him and asked, “How is Wuwu doing now?”
The accompanying monk respectfully nodded. “Wuwu continues his cultivation and lecturing as always… waiting for the Supreme Path to open, then he will journey from the Eastern Lands to our Ling Mountain Temple to seek the Nirvana Scripture.”
Minghui Master frowned slightly. “What immense sins did Wuwu commit in his past? Hasn’t cultivating so many Buddhist profound texts washed them away?”
The monk sighed. “There is indeed something strange about this matter. Our Ling Mountain Temple’s supreme Buddhist scripture, the Nirvana Scripture, is a path of ‘born from death, breaking through realms to cultivate.’ Not everyone is qualified to cultivate it, nor can everyone succeed.”
Minghui’s gaze sharpened. “It seems Wuwu has no good choice. If he succeeds, he can achieve Nirvana. If he fails, he will become a Sarira, benefiting our Ling Mountain Temple.”
The monk looked towards the vast void. “This epoch, I fear, will bring forth anomalies. The Bronze Ancient Palace has yet to open, and the Domain Gates remain closed.”
Minghui stated, “Nine is the Extreme; Extreme gives rise to change.”
Moments later, Minghui returned to the main hall. He took out a jade slip from his robes. The jade slip glowed, and a phantom of Xuanji Holy Lord shimmered into existence. Minghui gazed at it for a moment, then put the jade slip away. “Letting go… it’s too difficult.”
At the same time, in the Eastern Lands of the Western Desert, Wuwu was lecturing on a high platform. Around his neck hung an ancient string of seven brilliant, shining jade beads. Pure Dao patterns flowed around Wuwu as he began to chant, golden characters surging around him, filling the air with golden light.
“Amitabha!”
“Thus have I heard: At one time, the Buddha was in Savatthi. In the Jeta Grove, Anathapindika’s Park, together with a great assembly of twelve hundred and fifty bhikshus…”
Below the platform, numerous monks had gathered, kneeling in utmost piety, then sitting cross-legged, comprehending the Dao as Wuwu lectured.
An hour later, the lecture concluded.
“Does anyone have any further questions?” Wuwu asked.
A middle-aged monk inquired, “Master Wuwu, what exactly do you intend to sever from ‘self’?”
The question was profound. The concept of ‘self’ was paramount to Buddhist cultivators. All eyes turned to Master Wuwu.
The middle-aged monk continued, “I cultivate, therefore I am. Yet Master Wuwu seeks to sever ‘self.’ What were you before? What will you be after severing ‘self’?”
As his voice fell, Wuwu froze, then spat out a mouthful of essence blood. This question had deeply touched his soul.
Seeing this, the monks immediately rushed to support Wuwu. Meanwhile, the middle-aged monk who had posed the question allowed a faint smirk to play on his lips. “Wuwu. Your Buddhist scriptures are profound. What a pity you haven’t even comprehended the most basic concept of ‘self.’ Your seven lifetimes of cultivation, in my eyes, are nothing but a joke. You still dream of Nirvana? Impossible! Just wait to become a Sarira!”