In the midst of drifting, ethereal clouds, a wisp of immortal aura, trailing from a figure surnamed Ye, carried a hint of exasperation.

“Why did you meddle blindly? If something truly goes awry because of this, how will this pavilion master recover from the loss?”

“Hehe, I’m not foolish either. Just observing, you see.” The strange, oddly shaped beast chuckled. “Truly refreshing!”

“Yes, indeed…”

The true person surnamed Ye sighed, a sense of profound relief washing over him. “To cultivate means to see through worldly affairs; one’s thoughts reach, and provisions arrive!”

The strange beast wagged its tail. “You’ve taken on the mantle of Lingxiao. And you’ve severed a portion of his karma for him. His path ahead should be unobstructed now, no?”

“Heh.” The true person surnamed Ye flicked a finger, and a cave-light pierced the void, scattering the floating clouds. “Some burdens, to him, are mountains. To me, they are but specks of dust!”

Gale-force wind and sudden rain lashed against a banana tree, its leaves scattering in disarray.

The violent thug had departed.

Jiang Wang took a moment to recover, only then managing to adjust his chaotic Dao origin.

Having been brutally thrashed twice in succession by the old monk Ku Jue, a deep-seated resentment gnawed at him. The first time, he’d attributed it to the old monk’s frustration at failing to take him as a disciple, and let it slide. But this lingering resentment seemed excessive. Why keep beating him? Had it become an addiction?

If he was beaten every three days, how could he face others? How could he stand tall and proud in front of his little sister?

But to truly consider revenge on Ku Jue… he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After all, Ku Jue had genuinely saved his life, and he was an elder.

Moreover, he couldn’t even beat him…

“I can’t blame Jing Li for this,” he finally gritted his teeth and muttered. “If blame is to be laid, it’s on your master!”

However Ku Jue had beaten him today, he would pay it back on Ku Jue’s precious disciple, Jing Li. He would make Ku Jue anxious, make Ku Jue angry, and make that yellow-faced old monk stare helplessly.

“…Forget it.”

After a moment of fantasy, Jiang Wang finally sighed, resigning himself to his fate. He picked up the fallen mask and slowly put it on. “Taking out anger on others is not the mark of a hero. I should cultivate properly and reach a point where the old monk can’t beat me. That’s the only proper course of action.”

Yong Country lay to the northwest of Yun Country, a long river flowing through its inner border at Hechang Prefecture and beyond.

Jiang Wang controlled his Dao origin, allowing it to circulate through the areas where he had been beaten, soothing the pain, as he continued his journey.

“But… why did it feel like there was more than one person beating me just now?”

“Was Jing Li involved? It was too chaotic, I didn’t notice. Jing Li seems genuinely pure, he wouldn’t be that sly, would he?”

The monk named Jing Li, who was being contemplated, was currently weeping.

He knelt on the ground, his clean, starch-washed monk’s robes stained with several blood marks.

His clear eyebrows were furrowed into a tight knot, and he sobbed uncontrollably.

In the sunlight streaming through the window, his tear-filled eyes were exceptionally pure.

In front of him lay an emaciated, yellow-faced old monk, eyes tightly closed, utterly still.

Not long after.

“Cry, cry, cry, what are you crying about!” The yellow-faced old monk opened his eyes and barked a scolding. “Are you crying in mourning for me!”

“Wuu wuu wuu… but Master, you…” Jing Li cried, gasping for breath. “You are very heavily injured…”

This was a dilapidated small temple, perched on a barren mountain.

There was no shelter around it, and the wind blew freely.

Inside the temple, there were only two rooms, divided into a front and back hall.

The front hall was the place of worship, but there was only a single wooden statue, carved to represent some unknown Buddha. It was faceless, whether it had never been carved or had been blurred by the passage of time was unclear. In any case, it was worshipped there.

This faceless Buddha naturally attracted sparse incense, and the offering plate in front of the statue was completely empty. Not even a mouse could find a single crumb to nibble on.

The back hall was the monks’ residence.

The room contained only one bed, on which Ku Jue lay. Therefore, Jing Li could only sit on the ground.

Ku Jue had forcibly endured injuries, colliding with the heavenly wind, and before he could rest, he had fiercely confronted the high-spirited Zhuang Gao Xian over the long river.

Although he hadn’t been at a disadvantage during the battle, his injuries had worsened after disengaging.

But this reverse wasn’t the only thing that mattered.

After he feigned death to trick Jiang Wang into shaving his head, Jiang Wang had stubbornly refused to become a monk, flatly rejecting the idea. In a fit of anger, he had violently thrashed Jiang Wang, and after his resentment was spent, he had left潇洒ly. He returned to Suspended Empty Temple to handle his own overwhelming troubles.

But unfortunately, on his way back to Suspended Empty Temple, he had encountered an old adversary.

Seeing him injured, that old opponent naturally wouldn’t let up on the pursuit.

This battle had been incredibly brutal. However, the old monk was cunning and had numerous tricks up his sleeve. He managed to seize an opportunity to escape back to the territory of Suspended Empty Temple.

By this point, his injuries were truly serious.

Of course, from his energetic scolding, it was clear that he was not in any mortal danger.

He even lifted a hand and landed a blow on Jing Li’s bald head. “Cry, cry, cry, no prospects! Can’t you learn from your Junior Brother Jing Shen? He saw this old man covered in blood and didn’t even wrinkle an eyebrow!”

He then smacked his lips. “Not right. That’s no emotion at all…”

“That turtle bastard of a king, beat him light!”

“Wuu wuu wuu…” Jing Li shrank his head but continued to cry. “Master, go slow, your wounds will split open…”

Just at this moment, a sudden shock sounded from outside the temple, like a rumble of thunder.

“Are you dead or not!”

Ku Jue immediately lay down and closed his eyes, his Qi diminished.

The monk Jing Li also stopped crying aloud, his sobs becoming silent.

An old monk, emaciated to skin and bone, stepped into the back hall in several quick strides. His face was like a sick decay, and his voice like a booming bell.

“Ku Jue! You arbitrarily moved my Wen Zhong. What is your sin!?”

When Ku Jue had rushed thousands of li to save Jiang Wang, he had specifically brought I Wen Zhong. Along the way, various evils had retreated in fear, and groups of heroes had not dared to block his path.

But I Wen Zhong was the treasure guarding Suspended Empty Temple. Only those undertaking special tasks or important Buddha affairs could carry it outside the gates.

Special tasks were, in essence, Buddha affairs.

Ku Jue was certainly not undertaking a Buddha affair. Suspended Empty Temple would never support him in saving an unnamed disciple who refused to shave his head. It was even less likely to permit him to take I Wen Zhong for Jiang Wang’s sake.

So he had stolen it himself, without informing anyone.

At this moment, Ku Bing had come to question his crime.

Ku Jue closed his eyes, his Qi like a silk thread, and made no response.

Jing Li let out a “Wa!” and cried out, “Uncle-Master, don’t roar at my Master, he is very heavily injured!”

This little monk’s crying was truly heartbroken.

It made even someone as weathered and formidable as Ku Bing unable to help but feel a little pity. “Uncle-Master isn’t roaring at your Master, Uncle-Master’s voice is just loud!”

He was already restraining himself, yet his voice still thundered like a drum.

“Then Uncle-Master, don’t speak,” Jing Li said through his tears. “Let my Master rest for a while.”

Ku Bing was momentarily choked.

If I don’t speak, how can I question your Master?

He considered bypassing Jing Li and pulling Ku Jue up. But he knew clearly that Ku Jue had truly suffered heavy injuries this time. He was afraid his hand might be too heavy and unintentionally injure Ku Jue further.

At this moment, he suddenly understood why Ku Di, as the head of the World-Viewing Court, despite this duty being part of his responsibilities within the rules and regulations, had actively avoided this task and let him handle it.

Perhaps Ku Di was very clear on how difficult it was to question Ku Jue.

And he, who had excitedly rushed over, wanting to seize the opportunity to gain the upper hand and teach a lesson, found himself stuck the moment he entered the door, caught in a dilemma, unable to advance or retreat.

The head of the dignified Dragon-Suppressing Court, the once fiercely unmatched Master Ku Bing, was momentarily at a loss!