383: The Mingfo Temple that gave in.

Chapter 377: Ming Fo Temple Concedes.

Cao Shi’s arrogant display immediately ignited the fury of the monks.

Those monks, usually benevolent, now glared with wide, angry eyes, their Zen staves humming with vibration.

The Head Monk of the Discipline Hall, Great Master Ming Ku, even slammed his tempered iron Zen staff onto the ground, causing the bluestone pavement to crack in a spiderweb pattern.

“Amitabha!” Great Master Ming Ku’s voice boomed like a great bell, “Slaying this demon would be immeasurable Karma!”

The Eighteen Bronze Men formation instantly took shape, their bronze staffs whistling as they danced through the air.

Although they were bound by the precepts and had not broken the killing taboo, the true essence of their demon-subduing staff techniques had reached the Transcendent realm.

If they were to truly strike, one blow could shatter a person’s bones and tendons without taking their life.

Outside the main gate, a murderous Aura solidified like frost, and Master Bei Feng, who was seated in a pool of blood, slowly raised his withered hand.

His composed demeanor, compared to the taut, string-like figures of the surrounding warrior monks, appeared extremely calm and at ease.

Then, Master Bei Feng lowered his gaze to the tragically deceased Buddhist Disciples, his eyes beneath his white brows as serene as a deep pool, showing not the slightest hint of shock or anger.

“Wait.”

The ancient voice, tinged with hoarseness, resonated like a great bell, causing the copper bells hanging on the mountain gate to sway slightly.

Master Bei Feng’s withered knuckles rubbed the prayer beads, and he looked at the furiously impotent Cao Shi, a compassionate smile touching his lips.

“My Buddha is merciful; all living beings are immersed in a sea of suffering.”

“Every blade of grass and every tree possesses Buddha-nature; a single thought of anger leads to Hell.” As soon as the words fell, a mountain wind suddenly rose, and the prayer flags on the eaves flapped loudly, carrying the unspoken words into the depths of the clouds.

Master Bei Feng’s words resonated like morning and evening bells, causing all the monks behind him to calm down.

As for Cao Shi’s earlier provocative remarks, they now seemed to be entirely repelled by an invisible barrier.

Master Bei Feng’s eyelids, furrowed with the passage of time, slowly lifted, his eyes, which had witnessed countless changes, seemed capable of seeing through all illusions in the world.

His gaze passed through layers of Eastern Depot agents, ignoring their gleaming Xiu Chun Dao, and went straight to the black python-patterned official sedan chair.

Through the gaps in the sedan curtain, the surging black python patterns were faintly visible, exuding a magnificent and awe-inspiring Aura.

A few days ago, undercurrents had been stirring in the capital.

Although Master Bei Feng lived in seclusion at Ming Fo Temple, he had heard about the Eastern Depot Director, who wielded immense power in the imperial court.

He was actively using his subordinates to extensively search for precious medicinal ingredients such as thousand-year-old ginseng and ambergris from the South Sea.

These treasures, some capable of extending life, others of healing injuries, were all priceless.

Coupled with Cao Shi’s nocturnal infiltration of Ming Fo Temple a few days prior, and his lingering presence near the Ming Fo Temple treasury under the cover of night, everything became clear.

The Eastern Depot Director had likely long coveted the thousand-year-old spiritual objects hidden within the temple, as well as the rare and highly nourishing medicinal ingredients painstakingly collected by successive generations of eminent monks.

“Click, click…”

The sound of Master Bei Feng’s century-old Bodhi prayer beads being rubbed suddenly quickened.

Then, the Old Monk’s voice, neither hurried nor slow, resonated like a great bell in everyone’s heart:

“Prefect!”

His hoarse voice, carrying a hot breath, exploded, startling the weary birds in the treetops, “My Ming Fo Temple adheres to morning and evening bells, not involving itself in court disputes or worldly grievances.”

“Today, you lead heavy troops to besiege the mountain gate, with swords drawn. Are you intending to commit monstrous acts of killing in this pure Buddhist land?”

Before he finished speaking, Master Bei Feng clasped his hands together, his cloudy gaze sweeping over the flushed faces of the Eastern Depot agents, finally settling on the motionless sedan curtain.

“The sea of suffering is boundless; turn back and the shore is there.”

“I hope the Prefect will lay down his butcher’s knife, and with a pure thought, immediately attain Buddhahood.”

All the monks in the hall responded in unison, “Amitabha!” The chanting of “Namo Amitabha!” and “Excellent, excellent!” mingled with the summer heat and spread over the mountain gate.

Under the scorching sun, the reflections from the Eastern Depot agents and Brocade Guard’s armor intensely clashed, stirring up an invisible surge of Aura in the shimmering air.

Suddenly!

A chilling wind, solid as substance, burst forth from within the sedan, abruptly cutting off the Old Monk’s Buddhist chanting!

At the same time, the weapons of the Eastern Depot agents and Brocade Guard simultaneously unsheathed three inches, their cold gleam robbing the entire mountain’s maple leaves of their color.

The sedan was filled with an ethereal cold mist, carrying the Aura of thousand-year-old Profound Ice.

Lu Xuan leaned back comfortably on the fluffy, snow-white sable cushion, his black brocade robe draped over the edge of the armrest.

His distinctively jointed fingers tapped on the frost-covered cold jade armrest.

The specially designed sedan body completely blocked out the intense summer heat.

The swirling cold Qi escaped through the gaps in the sedan curtain, even forming fine ice shards and water stains on the scorching ground.

“Old bald donkey, I, the Director, have no time to listen to your chanting.”

As soon as the words fell, the warrior monks opposite him glared in anger!

And Lu Xuan, he didn't even bother to look up at Master Bei Feng at the mountain gate.

Lu Xuan could sense the vast, faintly discernible Aura emanating from Master Bei Feng.

It was like a deep pool, accumulated over years, harboring power capable of overturning rivers and seas.

But what of it?

If he wanted to leave, no one in this world could stop him.

Moreover, Lu Xuan had made thorough preparations before coming here.

The surrounding Eastern Depot agents and Brocade Guard were the most elite forces in the entire Great Yu Empire.

All seven thousand Eastern Depot agents were first-rate masters, and the three thousand Embroidered Uniform Guard were, at worst, Centurions.

Each individual in this ten-thousand-strong iron cavalry was a master capable of fighting a hundred.

Furthermore, at the rear of the formation were three thousand specially made imperial killing machines: armor-piercing crossbows!

These killing machines, secretly crafted by the Great Yu Empire with immense effort, had arrowheads made of Profound Iron and were propelled by deer tendons, capable of piercing even an inch-thick iron armor within a hundred paces.

During the Northern Frontier War, there was a terrifying record of ten Martial Dao Grandmasters being nailed to a city wall by a single volley.

Lu Xuan merely tapped the sedan window with his fingertip, and the Twelve Protectors outside immediately understood.

Cao Er pointed his blade, and the Eastern Depot formation parted like a tide to both sides, revealing the grim crossbow array behind them.

The cold iron arrowheads gleamed blue in the sunlight, each one poisoned to kill upon drawing blood.

“Old Monk,”

Lu Xuan’s cold voice came from inside the sedan, “Do you think my arrows are faster, or will your little bald donkeys die faster?”

In front of the mountain gate, Master Bei Feng’s deep red kasaya robe suddenly billowed without wind, rustling loudly.

This highly respected Buddhist patriarch now had an unprecedentedly solemn expression on his face.

His profound gaze swept over the grim array, and he understood perfectly.

The black official sedan chair before him represented not only the formidable might of the Eastern Depot Director but also the supreme imperial authority of the entire Great Yu Empire!

If Ming Fo Temple dared to resist today, it would be an open defiance of the imperial court.

At that time, it would not just be these ten thousand elite troops, but the three hundred thousand iron cavalry stationed outside the capital, the cannons capable of collapsing city walls, and the Jianghu masters who had pledged allegiance to the court.

“Amitabha…”

Realizing Ming Fo Temple’s predicament, Master Bei Feng sighed deeply, and the prayer beads in his hand suddenly emitted a dazzling golden light.

Master Bei Feng had to admit that even with his martial prowess, the greatest in the world, he could not bear the accusation of “rebellion.”

The pure land of Buddhism, after all, could not withstand the Empire’s iron cavalry.

At this moment, the sedan curtain moved slightly, and Lu Xuan’s voice once again cut through the heavy air, carrying a hint of lazy weariness, as if discussing today’s refreshments.

“That lotus…” Every word was like a death knell in the hearts of the monks: “Hand it over, and I, the Director, will leave.”

The tone was understated, yet it caused three thousand armor-piercing crossbows to be simultaneously drawn, and seven thousand Xiu Chun Dao to be unsheathed half an inch in unison.

The sunlight on the cold weapons made the entire mountain gate appear like an ice cave.

Under the scorching sun, Master Bei Feng’s snow-white brows and whiskers trembled violently, and the broken prayer beads in his hand scattered to the ground with a “clatter.”

Even several white-bearded eminent monks beside him gasped simultaneously.

The abbot of the Scripture Pavilion, even staggered and leaned on a nearby novice, his withered fingers digging deeply into the other’s shoulder.

“That lotus”

These four words were like a heavy hammer, shattering the old monks’ composure.

“That lotus…” Master Bei Feng murmured, bloodshot eyes appearing in his cloudy gaze, and the decades of tranquil cultivation, like a still ancient well, now churned with tumultuous waves.

His body beneath the kasaya trembled slightly, completely different from the composed demeanor he had maintained during the confrontation.

“Prefect, this is merely a baseless rumor in the Jianghu. Surely you wouldn’t believe such absurd things.”

His calloused hands trembled slightly under the scorching sun, as if trying to grasp a glimmer of hope.

“If the Prefect truly needs it, this Old Monk can open the Buddhist gate and allow you to take all the treasures from the treasury.”

“Thousand-year-old snow ginseng, Western Region palm-leaf scriptures, and even the temple’s guardian gilded Buddha bone relic…

I only ask that the Prefect not believe the rumors and spare the thousands of innocent monks of Ming Fo Temple!”

Within the sedan, the cold Qi suddenly surged, rapidly forming icicles along the edge of the sedan curtain: “Hmm?”

The single syllable, laden with intense killing intent, exploded, sending a bone-chilling sensation through the Eastern Depot agents outside the sedan.

“I, the Director, do not have much patience to waste on you bald donkeys.”

Lu Xuan slowly lifted a corner of the sedan curtain, looking directly at Master Bei Feng in the distance.

“I, the Director, give you three breaths to consider.”

“Cao Er!”

Cao Er, summoned by his godfather, immediately understood. He instantly raised his Xiu Chun Dao to the sky, the sunlight reflecting off the blade making it hard to open one’s eyes.

As this cold light streaked across the sky, hundreds of Eastern Depot agents who had been lying in wait simultaneously roared, the humming of taut bowstrings shaking the ground slightly.

Black uniforms and flying fish robes intertwined into a steel torrent, and murderous glints of bloodlust burst forth from everyone’s eyes.

A rain of arrows was poised, as if a single command could transform the Buddhist gate before them into a Shura slaughterhouse.

The air in front of the mountain gate suddenly twisted and vibrated, and fine ice mist even appeared under the scorching sun.

The moment Master Bei Feng and Lu Xuan exchanged glances across the distance, his pupils sharply contracted.

Two vast and unparalleled Qi Auras collided with a roar, the resulting airwave shaking the golden lacquer off the four characters “Ming Fo Zen Temple” on the mountain gate plaque, startling countless birds in the forest.

“Great Grandmaster!!!”

Great Master Ming Ku, the Head Monk of the Scripture Pavilion, was the first to cry out in alarm.

He heavily slammed his Zen staff onto the ground to barely steady himself.

Lu Xuan’s body was enveloped in snow-white Gale Force, which transformed into a hundred-zhang phantom of wind and frost.

The gilded decorations on the sedan roof shattered inch by inch in the cold Qi, and the splashing golden flakes even suspended in the air, congealing into frost.

Master Bei Feng, seated on the ground, his deep red kasaya billowed loudly.

The golden light bursting from the prayer beads in his palm intensely clashed with the icy Qi, forming a dazzling, eye-piercing ball of light between the two of them.

The next moment, Master Bei Feng’s snow-white long brows moved without wind, and a hint of surprise flashed in his profound eyes.

The instant he clashed with Lu Xuan’s Aura, he clearly perceived it.

This notoriously fierce Eastern Depot Director had actually stepped into the realm of a Great Grandmaster, on par with him!

This was also the reason for Great Master Ming Ku’s public display of shock.

This infamous Eastern Depot Director, though his Aura showed the rawness of a recent Breakthrough, harbored a sharpness that made Master Bei Feng’s heart palpitate.

As expected of the Prefect renowned throughout the world, the “Extreme Cold Palm” he wielded was also a long-lost and sinister Secret Manual rumored in the Jianghu.

The surging ice Gale Force in his palm moved flexibly through the Void Realm, leaving behind spiderweb-like ice patterns on the bluestone ground wherever it passed, and even the air emitted a grating, freezing sound.

What was more troublesome was that the ice Gale Force could control the temperature within a radius of ten feet at will.

Seeing this, Master Bei Feng sighed inwardly.

If the opponent intended to retreat, with this unpredictable cold achievement, even if he exerted his full strength, he might not be entirely confident in being able to keep him.

The sun hung high in the sky, and Master Bei Feng’s seated figure on the ground seemed to solidify into a stone statue under the brilliant sunlight.

He slowly closed his eyes, his calloused fingers weakly loosening, and the string of century-old Bodhi prayer beads that had accompanied him for decades suddenly broke.

One hundred and eight smooth beads rolled like tears, bouncing and spinning on the scorching bluestone pavement, making a faint, crisp “tap-tap” sound.

“Amitabha…”

The Buddha’s name squeezed from Master Bei Feng’s throat, like a sigh from the depths of time.

His originally straight, pine-like spine suddenly bent, and the gaunt bones beneath his kasaya seemed unable to bear the invisible heavy pressure.

He looked at the scattered prayer beads on the ground, each one imbued with years of sandalwood fragrance.

Now, they were like broken Karma, rolling into the shadows of Brocade Guard’s armor.

“All things have Karma. That the Prefect can come today, he must also have been guided by my Buddha.”

A hot wind stirred up a few grains of sand, blurring Master Bei Feng’s cloudy eyes.

Even if the monks of Ming Fo Temple could block these ten thousand elites with their flesh and blood.

But what then?

Ming Fo Temple would be branded as traitors, and when the three hundred thousand iron cavalry stationed in the capital arrived.

This thousand-year-old ancient temple would instantly turn to scorched earth.

Even more terrifying, when a monk’s Zen staff became stained with blood.

My Buddha’s compassion would become a falsehood, and the thousand-year Legacy of Buddhist Dharma would be destroyed in an instant.

All of Master Bei Feng’s concerns had already been seen through by Lu Xuan.

This was also why Lu Xuan wanted to temporarily maintain his identity as the Eastern Depot Director.

Outside the palace, the Eastern Depot Director was the supreme symbol of the Great Yu Empire’s emperor’s authority, the will of all the people in the world.

This Old Monk was quite skilled at “eloquence,” even managing to concede in such a grand and righteous manner.

A hint of surprise flashed in Lu Xuan’s eyes—he had originally thought this Old Monk would fight to the death, but he never expected him to be so insightful.

“Prefect, please follow this Old Monk to the Treasure Pavilion. The Seven Treasures Glazed lotus is enshrined in…”

Master Bei Feng had not finished speaking when Lu Xuan’s cold voice directly interrupted him.

“No need, I, the Director, will wait here.”

Lu Xuan closed his eyes again. How could he not know this Old Monk’s intentions?

If he truly followed him into the temple, there might be some Buddhist grand formation waiting for him.

“Don’t play tricks. If I don’t see the item within half an hour, I, the Director, will turn this thousand-year-old ancient temple into nothing.”

“You know, I, the Director, don’t like to joke!”