Within the desolate husk of the Withered Glory Courtyard, under the cloak of blackest night, lay an inexplicable pull, a connection to some unseen place.

This unseen place, whether by design or mere happenstance, drew Jiang Wang ever closer.

His pace quickened, yet his direction became a chaotic dance, a bewildering shuffle back and forth, left and right. Though Chong Xuan Sheng remained steadfastly at his side, an unsettling sensation crept in – the feeling of his companion drifting further and further away.

This feeling, this growing distance, was deeply disquieting.

Jiang Wang’s face was a mask of blankness, yet the spark in his eyes betrayed a mind still alert, still engaged in thought. It was precisely this contrast that was so unnerving – he seemed utterly oblivious to the strange state of his own physical form.

The scene was bizarre beyond measure. However, Chong Xuan Sheng, lacking sufficient information, found himself with no foothold for analysis.

Yet, to simply let it unfold was not an option.

With this firm resolve, Chong Xuan Sheng reached out, intending to halt Jiang Wang’s peculiar movements with a touch of the heavy technique. But the moment the subtle power neared, Jiang Wang’s hand instinctively found the hilt of his sword, sword qi surging, poised to erupt! This was a primal, instinctual counterstrike.

To engage in a physical struggle in this state was ill-advised. Jiang Wang was beyond conscious control, and Chong Xuan Sheng could not gauge the limits of his reaction. He could only dispel the heavy technique.

As the technique dissipated, Chong Xuan Sheng cast a swift glance at Fourteen. Years of ingrained understanding, a silent language of a single look, and Fourteen already knew what was required.

Clad in his armor, he took a single stride, placing himself directly in front of Jiang Wang. The moment his foot landed, he became an unyielding mountain, rooted and majestic.

Without intent to attack, without any active physical contact, Fourteen simply stood, a barrier in the path, “waiting” for Jiang Wang to encounter him.

Indeed, just as Chong Xuan Sheng had anticipated, this passive resistance did not trigger Jiang Wang’s defensive instincts. He pressed forward in his hurried gait, colliding head-on with the unmoving Fourteen, clad in the Fu Yue armor – it was like running into a mountain!

The “mountain,” naturally, remained utterly still.

Jiang Wang’s body halted, blocked by the immovable force. But his forward-leaning posture, the tautness of his muscles, revealed his continued struggle to press onward.

Fourteen felt the subtle pressure of Jiang Wang’s forward motion and nodded imperceptibly to Chong Xuan Sheng. With Jiang Wang’s rudimentary body refining, relying solely on instinct, pushing through Fourteen was an impossibility.

Chong Xuan Sheng moved closer to observe Jiang Wang’s eyes. They were like a calm, still sea. Bright, serene, resolute, seemingly forever present, forever beautiful, forever unchangeable… yet beneath the placid surface, an immeasurable depth of things brewed.

Within that tranquil expanse, Chong Xuan Sheng suddenly beheld a symbol, a “卍” mark, bobbing and weaving with an unsettling uncertainty.

At that precise moment, Jiang Wang, in a sense not of the visual, also “saw” this ‘Wan’ symbol.

Then, he “heard” a voice, not through his ears, but deep within his consciousness. A sudden enlightenment dawned, and he saw the face of the yellow-robed old monk, the one who had appeared so mysteriously in Qing Yang Town, the monk Ku Jue, who had so inexplicably sought to take him as a disciple.

That voice, now resonating in his mind, was asking:

“Throughout your lifetime, to refrain from taking a single life, can you uphold this now?”

In your lifetime, to absolutely not kill any living being, can you from this moment forward uphold this precept?

And the underlying question, the true essence of the inquiry, was this: Are you willing to take refuge in the Buddhist path?

Jiang Wang’s consciousness was alert; he had been awake all along. He had also been engaged in thought, though a certain obstruction had indeed held him captive. Until the knots in his heart were untangled, he could not perceive the external world.

The fog of ignorance, the fog of ignorance. Cultivators at the Teng Long realm inherently begin to confront “ignorance,” inherently tread a path through its swirling depths.

The saying goes, “If one does not sweep his own house, how can he sweep the world.”

The saying goes, “Correct the root and clear the source.” The self is the root, the heart is the source.

The voice of the old monk Ku Jue, appearing so abruptly, struck at the heart of his being:

“Throughout your lifetime, to refrain from taking a single life, can you uphold this now?”

In that moment, Jiang Wang understood with absolute clarity: as long as he could uphold the precept and take refuge, he could instantly “walk out” of that endless interrogation. This was the path to escape the sea of suffering, the path to “lay down the butcher’s knife and immediately become Buddha.”

The meaning of “lay down the butcher’s knife and immediately become Buddha” is not that having killed, one merely drops the weapon to achieve enlightenment. It is to abandon the wicked thoughts in one’s heart, to cast aside all the “butcher’s knives” that could harm sentient beings. With a heart free of malice, filled with compassion for all, then one is a Buddha.

That relentless interrogation, a relentless pounding against his heart, moment after agonizing moment. One misstep, and the outcome would be the shattering of his Dao heart.

And yet, simply by upholding the precept, by undergoing a “washing of the heart and changing of the face,” he could immediately escape this perilous situation.

But Jiang Wang’s voice, resonating from the deepest chambers of his heart, rang out: “I cannot uphold it!”

“Throughout your lifetime, to refrain from taking a single life, can you uphold this now?”

“I cannot uphold it!”

Why seek external rules and precepts? My path is guided by my own true heart.

The instant this voice emerged, in the external world, Chong Xuan Sheng and Fourteen distinctly felt it – Jiang Wang’s forward momentum ceased.

And within his heart, Jiang Wang faced those interrogations directly, answering each one in turn.

“Fang Peng Ju… I remember him, I miss him, but I do not regret killing him. The affection was real, and the hatred was equally so.

Hu Shao Meng… I acted in accordance with our agreement, my heart unburdened.

The Pig Bone Face, the Snake Bone Face, the Dragon Bone Face… my killing intent is resolute, unwavering. If a White Bone Era truly comes to pass, I would still seek to kill them again!

As for the soldiers of the Yang Country, once on the battlefield, it means gambling everything, entrusting one’s very life. They are so, and I am so! On the battlefield, there is only life and death, what room is there for right and wrong to be spoken!”

In his eyes, the ‘卍’ symbol dissolved instantly. Those encroaching faces, the fierce questions, all vanished. All sights and sounds returned to tranquility.

Finally, Jiang Wang’s mind and spirit cleared, and in an instant, he regained control of his body, blurting out: “I ask my heart without guilt!”

At this point, he finally understood the cause and effect. In Qing Yang Town, without his awareness, Ku Jue had left a symbol upon him – the ‘卍’.

This was an ancient auspicious emblem passed down through the Buddhist lineage, symbolizing the gathering of ten thousand virtues.

This ‘Wan’ symbol itself held no malice or ill effect towards Jiang Wang. Its sole function was to point out a direction for him when his heart was in confusion. It could be said to protect the original heart, though this “direction” inevitably pointed towards taking refuge in the Buddhist faith.

This ‘Wan’ symbol would likely never have played a role, for the firmness of Jiang Wang’s original heart far surpassed that of ordinary men.

It should be said that the old monk Ku Jue harbored no malice.

However, tonight, coming with Chong Xuan Sheng to the ruins of the Withered Glory Courtyard in search of answers, this ‘Wan’ symbol attracted something within the courtyard, causing him to fall into a near-endless interrogation of his Dao heart, while his body was drawn towards some unknown place.

It had nearly harmed him, yet it had also saved him. When he was trapped within the Dao heart interrogation, this ‘Wan’ symbol offered a way out – to uphold the body with “precepts” and redeem “sin” with actions.

But Jiang Wang had chosen his own path. He had directly cast aside all defenses and interrogated his own heart.

And he asked his heart without guilt!

His body and mind were clear, his will as one.

“What happened?” Chong Xuan Sheng asked, examining Jiang Wang. He felt that from within and without, the man seemed to have undergone a cleansing, possessing a newfound, almost ethereal quality.

Jiang Wang recounted everything that had just transpired within his heart. Only then did Chong Xuan Sheng and Fourteen truly understand the danger he had just faced.

“We leave this place now,” Chong Xuan Sheng stated immediately. The Withered Glory Courtyard undoubtedly concealed secrets. And Chong Xuan Sheng, in his current state, could not even detect them. Had it not been for the ‘Wan’ symbol left by Ku Jue on Jiang Wang, Jiang Wang himself would not have experienced this anomaly.

This was sufficient proof that the secrets hidden within the ruins of the Withered Glory Courtyard were beyond their current strength.

Chong Xuan Sheng, being a man of keen intellect, chose to leave without hesitation, even abandoning his original quest for answers. To possess curiosity without the necessary strength was a sure path to death!

But just as they turned to depart, new sounds echoed from the outside. This time, it wasn’t just Jiang Wang; all three of them heard it.

That sound was:

“Bang—Bang! Bang! Bang!”