796: Chapter 796 Lu Xueqi and Biyao (175)

A young Disciple hurried up to greet him, "The Evil Creature has awakened early and has already destroyed three cities. The Cultivators in the Human Realm have suffered heavy casualties, and the Sect Master has already taken people to rush over there."

Su Han's heart tightened: "When did this happen?"

"Three days ago. We have been looking for you, but we cannot enter the Buddhist Realm," another Disciple said. "Senior Brother Su, did you obtain the Purifying Buddha Light?"

Su Han was silent for a moment.

He could see the expectation and trust in the eyes of those young Disciples; they believed that upon returning from the Buddhist Realm, he would surely bring back a treasure capable of saving everything.

How was he supposed to tell them?

Should he say he returned empty-handed, bringing back nothing but a string of Bodhi beads and a principle?

But the next moment, he recalled what the Buddha had said.

When he no longer thought about "obtaining," the light would shine.

He touched the Bodhi beads on his wrist and smiled at the few Disciples: "I obtained it. Let's go, to the Human Realm."

He was not lying.

He had indeed obtained it—in a way he had been completely unable to understand before.

When they arrived at the Human Realm, what Su Han saw was a scene like the end of the world.

The originally lush green mountains were shrouded in black smoke, and the sky was dark red, as if it had been burned through by fire.

The aura of the Evil Creature surged up from deep underground, carrying a rotten, sweet, fishy smell that made people dizzy.

The Sect Master led the main force of the Lingxiao Immortal Sect Disciples to form a Formation in mid-air; the light of the Formation flickered, barely holding off the first wave of the Evil Creature's impact.

But Su Han could tell at a glance that the Formation would not last long.

As he descended, the Sect Master looked back at him.

That gaze contained a thousand words, but in the end, it only turned into one sentence: "Han'er, did you obtain it?"

Su Han walked to the Sect Master's side, standing shoulder to shoulder, looking at the giant black shadow slowly emerging from the crack in the ground below.

That thing was like a squashed nightmare, without a fixed shape; black slime constantly emerged from the crack, and every time a mass surged out, it condensed into some kind of twisted monster shape, baring its fangs and brandishing its claws as it lunged toward the Cultivators' defensive line.

"I obtained it," Su Han said.

The Sect Master nodded, refocusing his energy on maintaining the Formation: "Good. In a moment, I will create an opportunity for you; you must strike with the Buddha Light and kill it in one blow."

Su Han did not answer.

He watched that mass of black Evil Creature, watched those Cultivators whose flesh and blood were corroded by the toxic liquid sprayed by the Evil Creature, and watched the sporadic lights still shining in the destroyed city in the distance—there were still people alive, still people struggling to survive in the ruins.

He remembered that Old Woman.

When she was walking in the snow carrying firewood, she must have been very tired too, and she must have thought, "Why should I, this old bag of bones, struggle so hard?"

But she did not stop, because there was a child in the house waiting for her.

Su Han reached out his hand, spread his five fingers, and looked at his own palm.

There was nothing there—no golden light, no Buddha Light, only a pair of ordinary hands, still bearing the calluses worn from the stone steps of Mount Ling.

But he suddenly understood what the "light" the Buddha spoke of meant.

That light was not in his palm; it was in the things he wanted to protect.

When he looked at those lights in the ruins, thinking that there might be a child inside, just like the one in the illusion, sitting beside their parents and shivering, a warm feeling surged in his heart.

That warmth spread from his heart, flowed through his arm, and gathered at his fingertips.

His palm truly lit up.

At first, it was just a faint golden halo, like the light of the sky before dawn, but it grew brighter and warmer, until his entire palm was wrapped in a mass of soft golden light.

It was not Chaos Power, not Heavenly Gang Righteous Qi, nor was it any kind of Spell he had ever Cultivated.

It was just a pure, warm light carrying the scent of sandalwood.

The Sect Master was stunned on the spot: "Is this... is this the Purifying Buddha Light?"

Su Han did not answer him.

He looked down at the light in his palm, recalling the last words the Buddha had said—"When you love them, you are shining."

He raised his glowing hand, aiming it at the surging black Evil Creature below.

He did not chant any incantations, did not form any hand seals; he simply pushed his palm forward.

The golden light left his hand like the dawn breaking, silently sweeping across the battlefield.

It did not resemble any kind of offensive Spell; there was no explosion, no loud noise; it simply shone over everything.

The black slime touched by the golden light melted like snow; those twisted monsters emitted silent wails under the radiance of the golden light, their forms disintegrating bit by bit, eventually turning into wisps of black smoke, scattered by the wind.

The Evil Creature's massive main body trembled violently deep underground, and its aura contracted frantically as if it had encountered a natural enemy.

The golden light pierced through layers of black mist, shining deep into the crack.

Su Han heard a low, painful howl, as if something deep in the heart of the earth was being torn apart, purified, and completely erased.

The edges of the crack began to close, the black slime stopped surging out, and the remains of the Evil Creature left on the ground turned into powder in the afterglow of the golden light, scattering at the slightest breeze.

The battlefield fell silent.

The Cultivators stood there dumbfounded, watching that pillar of golden light descend from the sky, connecting heaven and earth, illuminating the entire ruins.

Some knelt down, some covered their mouths and cried, and some shouted loudly, "We won!"

Su Han stood there, the golden light in his palm gradually fading away, leaving only the string of Bodhi beads on his wrist glowing faintly.

The Sect Master walked to his side, looked at him, and it took a long while before he said a single sentence: "Han'er, you did it."

Su Han looked down at his own palm; no trace was left, but that warm, feeling of Perfection still lingered on his skin, like a stone that had been sun-baked, its residual heat not fading for a long time.

"Master," Su Han said, "it wasn't me who did it. It was an Old Woman."

The Sect Master looked at him, bewildered.

Su Han smiled and did not explain.

He tucked his hand back into his sleeve, touched the Bodhi beads on his wrist, and thought silently in his heart: Buddha, thank you. I understand.

After that day, the Evil Creatures in the Human Realm completely disappeared, the cracks were sealed, and the destroyed cities began to be rebuilt through the joint efforts of Cultivators and Mortals.

Su Han returned to the Lingxiao Immortal Sect and continued to live in that small courtyard in the back mountain, practicing sword, meditating, and lecturing on scriptures to the newly initiated Disciples every day.

He always wore that string of Bodhi beads on his wrist; sometimes when he got tired from lecturing, he would unconsciously rub them a couple of times, then continue speaking.

Later, a little Disciple asked him: "Uncle-Master Su, why do you always rub those beads? Is that some kind of treasure?"

Su Han thought for a moment, looking down at the little Disciple who was sitting on a meditation cushion, tilting his head up to look at him.

The child's eyes were big and bright, his cheeks were chubby, and there was a grain of rice stuck to the corner of his mouth—he had probably just finished eating and ran over to attend the lecture.

Su Han looked at him, just like looking at that child who was crying on the battlefield in the illusion many years ago, and that warm spring of water surged up in his heart again.

He reached out to wipe the grain of rice from the corner of the little Disciple's mouth and said with a smile: "It's not any kind of treasure. It's just an ordinary string of Bodhi beads. But, it reminds me of what kind of person I should be."

(End of Chapter)