Three days later.
Fengxiao Temple.
An old monk in somewhat tattered kasaya sat on a meditation cushion, his head slightly bowed as if in deep meditation.
The dimly lit meditation room was illuminated by only a single oil lamp.
A noble-looking man in plain white robes pushed open the temple door and approached the monk.
Many years ago, they had been friends despite their age difference. The man often came to listen to the old monk's teachings, though he never attained enlightenment in the end. Instead, he chose to take up arms and walk a path completely different from what the old monk had advised. The man in plain robes was naturally the world-renowned Langya King Xiao Ruofeng, while the seemingly shabby old monk—though now merely holding the title of abbot at this modest temple—was universally acknowledged as the foremost Buddhist master in the world: Zen Master Wangyou.
"Great Master," Xiao Ruofeng called softly.
Wangyou remained with his head bowed, giving no response.
"Great Master," Xiao Ruofeng called again.
This time he received a peculiar response—Wangyou let out a snore.
"Great Master, wake up! Great Master!" Xiao Ruofeng helplessly patted Wangyou's shoulder.
Wangyou suddenly opened his eyes and smiled at Xiao Ruofeng: "Ruofeng, it's been a long time. I just had a dream."
"Oh? What did you dream about?" Xiao Ruofeng asked with an amused expression.
"I dreamed of over a decade ago, when you were drinking at Baipin Pavilion and all got drunk under Teacher Li's persuasion. Then the Southern Jue Sword Immortal Yu Shengmo came with his sword from the west, and Teacher Li crashed through the pavilion's roof to engage in an earth-shattering duel of Sword Immortals," Wangyou replied slowly.
"Great Master, we've known each other for years. Why put on this enlightened act for me? You dreamed of the Bai Su Feast at Tianxiang Zhai, eating from dawn till dusk," Xiao Ruofeng said with a helpless smile.
"How did you know, Ruofeng?" Wangyou asked in surprise.
"You were drooling," Xiao Ruofeng said as he sat cross-legged before Wangyou.
"Sin, sin," Wangyou wiped his mouth.
Xiao Ruofeng poured two cups of hot tea, pushing one toward Wangyou: "How is that child doing lately?"
"Like his father, he's a martial arts prodigy," Wangyou replied.
"You've said that many times. If my junior brother personally instructs him, he'll likely become as strong as his father—if not the best in the world, then close to it," Xiao Ruofeng sighed softly.
"Being the best in the world isn't necessarily a good thing," Wangyou smiled faintly.
"When I saw you last year, Great Master, there was worry between your brows—fear that he might follow his father's path. But today, you seem in good spirits," Xiao Ruofeng took a sip of tea.
"Effects follow causes. If the seed planted isn't one of hatred, then no bitter fruit will grow. Last year when you came, I hadn't yet understood this principle," Wangyou replied.
Yet Xiao Ruofeng still frowned: "But what if someone deliberately sows such causes?"
"Wuxin was only five when he left his father. The one who accompanied him through those years was this old monk," Wangyou smiled gently.
"You've changed, Great Master," Xiao Ruofeng suddenly smiled, the worry vanishing from his brow.
Wangyou chuckled: "Oh? How so?"
"Before, you might have seen Wuxin merely as your disciple. But now it seems you regard him as your own child," Xiao Ruofeng nodded. "If that's the case, then I can rest easy."Wangyou sighed, "I had already withdrawn from worldly affairs, yet you insist on dragging me back in."
"The Buddha did not attain enlightenment by sitting beneath the Bodhi tree from the start. One must witness the mortal world, experience its suffering, hatred, and love, to truly comprehend the Way. If we were to confine the master to an ancient temple, a solitary meditation room, reciting scriptures for a hundred years away from humanity, it would not advance his path one bit," Xiao Ruofeng said solemnly.
Wangyou snorted coldly, "Are you the master here, or am I?"
Xiao Ruofeng bowed his head slightly. "Master, Ruofeng has spoken out of turn."
"You child," Wangyou shook his head helplessly. Just as he was about to speak, an object suddenly shattered through the window. He quickly clasped his hands together and shouted angrily, "Rise!"
A phantom of a bronze bell enveloped Wangyou and Xiao Ruofeng. The object struck the phantom with a resounding "dong" before being deflected away.
Wangyou frowned. "Amitabha. How could anyone have found this place?"
Xiao Ruofeng sighed softly. "Master Su, I had thought our last meeting would indeed be our final one."
"I had thought the same," Su Zhe said as he entered, holding a Buddhist staff.
"What changed Master Su's mind?" Xiao Ruofeng asked gravely.
"It is the fate that must be cleansed!" Su Zhe sighed deeply.
"A demon-subduing staff?" Wangyou looked at the staff in Su Zhe's hand, his tone tinged with surprise.
"The master has keen eyes. Indeed, it is a demon-subduing staff!" Su Zhe enunciated clearly.
Wangyou studied Su Zhe. "You are his disciple."
Su Zhe nodded. "Yes. When he entrusted this staff to me, he spoke of the master's connection to him. To meet you today fills Su with both shock and joy."
Wangyou lowered his head slightly. "The Dark River still expresses joy in such a peculiar manner."
Xiao Ruofeng's ears twitched slightly as he heard noises in the courtyard. He sighed softly. "You knew I wouldn't bring guards here, so you thought this was the perfect opportunity to kill me?"
"This old monk possesses the Hundred Paths of the Heart Bell and has stopped many peerless masters," Wangyou stood up. "This old monk is the Langya King's guard for this journey."
Su Zhe shook his head. "We never thought we could kill you. The price of your death is too high for the Dark River to bear."
Xiao Ruofeng frowned. "Then why keep attempting assassinations?"
"I told you, it is the fate that must be cleansed!" Su Zhe suddenly swung his staff, sending dozens of golden rings flying.
"Amitabha." Wangyou clasped his hands together, summoning a phantom bronze bell several times larger than before, blocking all the golden rings.
Xiao Ruofeng raised his hand, drawing the Haoque Sword. He bent slightly. "If blood is shed in Fengxiao Temple, the sin would be mine."
Su Zhe smiled. "Then why not fight to our heart's content without causing slaughter?"
Xiao Ruofeng murmured in confusion, "What do you mean?"
Su Zhe twirled his staff gently. "These years as a prince must have been stifling. Don't you long for another duel like in our youth? Not for life or death, not for gain, but simply for the joy of battle!"
Xiao Ruofeng lifted his head. "You speak of Gu Jianmen and Lei Mengsha. Even in my youth, I never cared for such things.""Consider it my misunderstanding then." Su Zhe charged forward, raising his Buddhist staff and smashing it heavily onto the phantom bronze bell. "Come on, Xiao Ruofeng, the little scholar of the academy! Let's have a good fight!"
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