Chapter 979: The Past (I)

The Buddhist Cloud Monastery.

Even though the world had fallen into chaos, the Buddhist kingdom in the sky still gleamed with golden light. From the moment the nine provinces were thrown into disorder, the Buddhist Cloud Monastery shut its gates and sealed its mountain, forbidding its disciples from leaving. They hoped to survive the calamity through isolation.

Monks led lives of simplicity and few desires, so although they were forbidden from leaving the monastery, it didn’t bother them much. These monks didn’t find it boring and simply devoted themselves to cultivation. However, in recent days, the younger disciples all seemed a little distracted during their practice.

The moment morning class ended, a group of young disciples would immediately gather nearby, sit down, and pull out their Circle of Immortal Friends Tokens. They channeled their divine sense into the devices and began posting with great fervor. From time to time, someone would get too worked up and blurt out something inappropriate, staining the monastery’s name. Several young monks had already been punished for doing that.

"Pushan, how are you typing so many words that fast?" one senior brother asked, clearly baffled. "I haven’t even figured out what to say, and you’ve already sent a whole paragraph."

"Heh, that’s the beauty of silent meditation," Pushan said with a quick grin. Then he straightened his face and focused his mind, diving back into another round of furious posting.

"Pushan alone is worth a hundred men. Those underlings from Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals are nothing," a senior brother said with a hearty laugh.

As it turned out, the two sects had recently formed an alliance. The Buddhist Cloud Monastery had drifted through the skies and come to rest directly above the Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals, casting its vast shadow over the entire sect and blocking out the sun.

One disciple from the Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals had made a minor complaint in the Circle of Immortal Friends.

It should have been nothing, just one message among countless others.

However, the disciples of the Buddhist Cloud Monastery had already been holding back their frustration. The Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals had always been the closest to the Penglai Supreme Sect, and their relationship with the Buddhist Cloud Monastery had never been harmonious. Back when the Penglai Supreme Sect still stood strong, the Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals rarely showed them respect. Now that Penglai had fallen, the monastery only agreed to help because they knew that if disaster struck, the Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals would be left alone at sea with no one to turn to.

Truthfully, we could have chosen to float wherever we wanted.

𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

If we had chosen to hover above Mount Shu and join forces with the other three sects, wouldn’t that have been much safer? The disciples could have visited Red Cotton Peak from time to time. Life would have been far more pleasant.

The only reason we came to the East Sea was because you members of the Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals looked so pitiful. It was out of Buddhist compassion and a sense of duty to the martial world that we agreed to come at all.

And yet you disciples of the Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals still have the nerve to complain?

One disciple from the Buddhist Cloud Monastery replied a little too harshly under that post. In response, a disciple from the Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals fired back with righteous indignation.

From there, both sides began rallying their allies and firing off biting retorts, setting off a grand and furious war of words across the Circle of Immortal Friends.

For now, the Buddhist Cloud Monastery held the upper hand. Their disciples weren’t allowed outside and had nothing better to do. What better time than now to hurl flowery insults? Morally speaking, they also seemed to have the edge. Many disciples of the Fog-Hidden Mountain of Immortals didn’t even feel justified speaking up.

Most importantly, they had a top-tier, legendary artifact-level trash-talking Eminent One named Pushan.

Monk Pushan could respond to dozens of Fog-Hidden disciples at once, delivering well-organized arguments and sound logic without ever resorting to mindless profanity.

Aside from disciples of the two sects, the Circle of Immortal Friends was filled with onlookers from other immortal sects. Many of them had already become loyal fans of Pushan, completely enamored with Monk Pushan’s sharp tongue.

Naturally, the higher-ups from both sects didn’t take it too seriously. A war of words in the Circle of Immortal Friends was nothing like a real-life argument, and there was no risk of it turning physical. Since the disciples were stuck within their sects with nothing to do, it was better they had something to keep themselves occupied.

And so, this drawn-out war of insults continued all the way until today.

Monk Pushan was seated there, furiously laying verbal beatdowns on Fog-Hidden disciples under the admiring gazes of his fellow brothers, when suddenly a shadow fell across him.

"You son of—" Pushan nearly blurted out what he was typing, then quickly snapped to his senses and looked up. "Who’s there?"

He saw a monk in white robes standing before him. The monk looked to be around twenty years old, yet his eyes were steeped in a profound, timeworn sorrow.

"Where is your abbot?" he asked softly.

"In the main hall," Pushan replied, raising a hand to point. "If you want to see the abbot, you’ll need to register firs—ah..."

Before he could finish speaking, the white-robed monk took a single step forward and vanished.

It was the Great Dao of Distancelessness.

Monk Pushan scratched his shiny bald head, but he didn’t dwell on it. Without missing a beat, he dove right back into his spirited round of online greetings.

...

Dhyana Master Dayu, the abbot of the Buddhist Cloud Monastery, was seated in silent meditation within the Buddha Hall when he suddenly heard a faint cracking sound by his ear. When he opened his eyes, he saw tiny cracks forming in the palm of the Buddha statue before him, fine as spider silk, stretching upward all the way to the statue's face.

"

Haaaaaa...

" Dhyana Master Dayu let out a soft sigh.

The next moment, a white-robed monk entered the hall unannounced. He knelt on the prayer mat and bowed three times before the Buddha statue.

"Noble Dharma?" Dhyana Master Dayu looked at the man, then turned his gaze northward. Through the eaves, he could just make out the shadow of a towering tree. "So your divine arts have reached perfection. What brings you to my Buddhist Cloud Monastery? Don’t tell me you’re here to steal our Dharma Lotus Platform."

"I'm not here for the Dharma Lotus Platform."

The white-robed monk was none other than the Noble Dharma, who had slain Evil Ksitigarbha.

He lifted his head, catching sight of the cracks on the Buddha statue, and gave a faint smile. "It seems even the Buddha no longer accepts me."

"As a disciple of the Buddha, why have you committed so many unjust deeds?" Dhyana Master Dayu asked gravely.

The Noble Dharma laughed, "Haha... Then what should a disciple of the Buddha be like?"

Then he looked at Dhyana master Dayu and asked, "How many years have you practiced Buddhism?"

"I entered the monastery as a child. It’s been nearly three hundred years," Dhyana Master Dayu replied.

"I’ve cultivated Buddhism for a total of twenty thousand years," the Noble Dharma said softly.

"Huh?" A trace of disbelief flashed through Dhyana Master Dayu’s eyes.

Even someone as knowledgeable and experienced as he was found it hard to imagine that anyone in this world could live that long.

"In ancient times, the world had two continents. Far beyond the Far West lay a Buddhist kingdom, and that is where I was born. To us, the land of the nine provinces was a sacred pilgrimage site because that was where the Divine Ruins was located."