Chapter 49 – Origins

The embrace came suddenly, but what shocked Wei Yang even more was the way he was addressed. Ever since his grandfather passed away, no one had called him by that name. This should have been an awkward or at least slightly embarrassing moment, yet Wei Yang only stiffened slightly before tightly returning the hug. The voice calling him carried a barely detectable tremble, and the shoulders embracing him were warm and strong, as if holding something precious and beloved.

It had been a long, long time since anyone had treated him like this.

The exchange of body warmth lasted only a moment before the sting in his palm brought him back to his senses. Unlike Zhang Xiuqi, the Little Celestial Master who had lost all emotions and only acted on instinct, Wei Yang immediately realized that this embrace had gone a bit too far. Summoning all his strength, he managed to control himself and moved his head away from the warm crook of Zhang Xiuqi’s shoulder. With a smile, he patted Zhang Xiuqi’s shoulder and said, “Brother Qi, I did pretty well this time, didn’t I?”

If it had been anyone else, they might have noticed the forced nature of Wei Yang’s smile. But Zhang Xiuqi wasn’t anyone else. He simply looked Wei Yang up and down and nodded. The flashes that had just appeared in his mind seemed to lose their power and dimmed once again. Only one image remained vivid: a boy sitting in a dark courtyard, wide-eyed, clutching his sleeve. That figure now merged with the man before him. Zhang Xiuqi gripped Wei Yang’s hand tightly and called out again, “Ah Yang.”

He had promised to protect him, to keep him safe from monsters.

Seeing the Little Celestial Master seriously calling him by his childhood nickname, even Wei Yang, with his thick skin, couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed. He coughed lightly and asked, “Brother Qi, has that evil thing been destroyed?”

After the strange emotional wave passed, Wei Yang finally regained his composure. He hadn’t forgotten the terrifying scene that had just unfolded like a movie special effect. The Yangsui Mirror beside him still glowed, firmly covering the Iron Buddha, but the golden light around the statue began to fade, as if it had exhausted all its strength in devouring the shadow. The statue returned to its dark, iron-like color, and even the rust stains on its surface became more pronounced. The Dead Jade that had fallen to the ground also stopped moving, lying there as if nothing had happened.

Wei Yang certainly didn’t dare touch the thing, but Zhang Xiuqi bent down and picked it up, shaking his head. “Not destroyed. Suppressed.”

“But the Iron Buddha is in such a state. Can it really suppress it?” Wei Yang couldn’t help but feel a chill down his spine. After such a grand display, was it still only suppressed?

“It can.” Zhang Xiuqi stood up and reached out to Wei Yang.

Just moments ago, Wei Yang had asked the Little Celestial Master to pull him up, but now he felt an inexplicable urge to avoid the gesture. He pushed himself up from the floor and deliberately shook his hand. “My hand is injured.”

This wasn’t an excuse. The left hand that had held the prayer beads was now bloody and mangled from the wooden splinters that had fallen from the beads. Seeing this, Zhang Xiuqi frowned, and Wei Yang quickly explained, “It’s just a flesh wound. How about we check on Master Chizhi next door first? I’m not sure how things are going over there…”

While this was partly an attempt to change the subject, the living room next door had indeed gone quiet, no longer filled with the chanting that had been echoing earlier. If the evil here had been controlled, the malevolent energy within Wang Ming shouldn’t be able to cause any more trouble. But nothing was certain. After all, even the best-laid plans could go awry, as they had just witnessed. It wouldn’t hurt to check. Zhang Xiuqi didn’t object to the suggestion and followed closely beside Wei Yang as they left the study and headed toward the living room.

As they walked down the hallway and reached the living room entrance, Wei Yang couldn’t help but click his tongue. The devastation here was no less severe than in the study. Half of the Kaiyuan Tongbao Formation had been destroyed, and Red Nitre was scattered everywhere. Most of the silver needles inserted into Wang Ming’s Seven Passes had been knocked out, leaving only the Five Mourning Formation locked around his limbs as protection. It seemed the situation had been even more dire than they had anticipated.

Master Chizhi was sitting cross-legged with his back to the door, beside Wang Ming. He was no longer striking the wooden fish but instead hung his head, shoulders trembling slightly as if shivering. Wei Yang couldn’t help but step forward to see what was going on, but Zhang Xiuqi stopped him with a shake of his head.

Wei Yang’s heart tightened. Just as he was about to ask, another voice came from the living room. It wasn’t loud, more like the muttering of a drunkard, slurred and incessant. It was impossible to tell what dialect it was, as the words flowed without pause, interspersed with sounds that resembled coughs and sharp laughter—nothing like a normal human voice.

Wei Yang focused and realized that the speaker was Wang Ming, still trembling in the center of the formation. His oxygen mask had flown off somewhere, and his eyes were rolled back, his lips barely moving. Yet the voice continued without pause, growing louder and more frantic. Beside him, Master Chizhi also began to speak, his dry and hoarse chanting coming out twice as fast as normal, carrying an anxious, irritable tone.

In the chaos left by the ghostly turmoil, the two equally eerie voices intertwined, creating a truly spine-chilling atmosphere. But Wei Yang only paused for a moment before remembering what the old monk had mentioned earlier about the “Burial Curse.” Was he using ghost language to communicate with the evil entity?

Not daring to breathe too loudly, Wei Yang quietly took a step back. Whatever the old monk was asking, it was clearly crucial to completely eradicating the evil. He didn’t want to interrupt. But Zhang Xiuqi grabbed his hand, frowning slightly as if afraid he would run away. Wei Yang couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Did slaying a fierce ghost come with such side effects? Had he really been on the verge of death earlier, causing Brother Qi to worry so much?

But the hand holding his was so tight that his wrist bones ached slightly. Wei Yang felt that strange feeling from earlier rising again, making his heart race, his mouth dry, and sweat bead on his forehead. He wanted to shake off the hand and run away. But after a half-minute of hesitation, he finally relaxed his shoulders and let out a self-deprecating laugh. This was Brother Qi, after all. What was he so nervous about?

Steadying himself, Wei Yang turned his attention back to the center of the formation. Wang Ming’s speech had become even faster, while Master Chizhi’s trembling gradually slowed until it stopped completely after another burst of sharp laughter. The old monk raised his right hand and drew a symbol on Wang Ming’s forehead, then placed something in his mouth. With a slap of his palm, Wang Ming’s eyes rolled back, and white foam spilled from his mouth as he fell still.

Master Chizhi let out a long sigh and struggled to his feet. His already diminutive frame now seemed even more hunched, and his face bore several new wrinkles, as if he had aged ten years in an instant. As if he had known someone was waiting at the door, he nodded slightly at the two of them. “Thanks to Mr. Wei’s wooden fish and Mr. Zhang’s reversal of the Calamity Dragon Heavenly Star Formation, I was able to protect Mr. Wang. How is the situation next door?”

“Heavenly Star Suppression,” Zhang Xiuqi answered succinctly. Master Chizhi seemed to have expected this answer and sighed again. “Even after hundreds of years, it’s still so terrifying. No wonder the esoteric practitioners of that time chose this method to suppress it.”

Wei Yang couldn’t hold back any longer and asked, “Master, were you using the Burial Curse to interrogate that evil entity? Did you find out its origins?”

Master Chizhi gave a bitter smile. “It’s not an evil entity. This ghost was once a Dharma King of the Sakya Sect.”

This answer far exceeded Wei Yang’s expectations. “A Dharma King? Why would they seal a Dharma King’s soul into an Iron Buddha? Don’t they believe in reincarnation?”

Master Chizhi shook his head. “Dharma Kings are appointed by the imperial court. Only Living Buddhas have the concept of reincarnation. The ghost sealed here was a Dharma King personally appointed by Emperor Shun of the Yuan Dynasty, and he was also the one who taught him the Great Bliss Tantra.”

Hearing the words “Great Bliss Tantra,” Wei Yang’s heart skipped a beat. There was a historical rumor that Emperor Shun, swayed by his minister Hama, practiced lewd rituals with Tibetan monks, corrupting the palace and even creating the “Sixteen Heavenly Demons Dance” in an attempt to achieve Buddhahood through dual cultivation. It was precisely because of his debauchery that the Yuan Dynasty fell, allowing Zhu Yuanzhang to seize the throne. But the one who taught him these methods wasn’t just any monk—it was an actual Dharma King. How could this not be shocking?

As if guessing Wei Yang’s surprise, Master Chizhi sighed softly. “This is likely a secret even within the Sakya Sect. The one who taught him was indeed a Dharma King, named Zangqin Labap, a descendant of the first Imperial Preceptor, Phagpa. However, due to the distant bloodline, he was not prominent within the Sakya Sect and had not received the true teachings. Unwilling to accept this, he used Hama to get close to Emperor Shun and successfully became the Imperial Preceptor, teaching the emperor the esoteric methods of Tibetan Buddhism. However, Emperor Shun did not know that the Great Bliss Tantra not only contained methods for achieving Buddhahood through dual cultivation but also techniques for absorbing the power of chaos and using the world as a cauldron.”

“The world as a cauldron”—these words carried immense weight. Wei Yang opened his mouth, his throat dry. Wasn’t this the legendary method Daji used to bring down the Shang Dynasty? How insane would someone have to be to overthrow an entire dynasty and bring chaos to millions, all for the sake of their own cultivation?

Master Chizhi’s expression was also grim. Although Tibetan Buddhism wasn’t closely related to Chinese Buddhism, they still shared the same roots. The appearance of such a monster couldn’t help but weigh heavily on him. But the old monk continued.

“However, Zangqin Labap’s title of Imperial Preceptor was not obtained legitimately, and it wasn’t long before he was discovered by the esoteric masters. By then, the world was already in chaos, and his cultivation had reached a significant level. To destroy him, seven masters from the Sakya Sect spent ten years to finally eliminate his physical body and disperse his Three Souls and Seven Spirits, sealing them into the Iron Buddha. They enshrined the Iron Buddha in a temple, hoping that the power of true Dharma and the incense offerings would purify the evil. However, due to his actions, the Yuan Dynasty was completely overthrown, and after Zhu Yuanzhang ascended the throne, the Sakya Sect’s status declined sharply, eventually being replaced by other sects. The Iron Buddha was lost from the temple, and with no one aware of its history, no one guarded against the strange power within it. Over the centuries, it finally found an opportunity to escape.”

“And now…?” Wei Yang finally managed to speak. It seemed they had only suppressed the evil with the Heavenly Star Formation, not completely eradicated it.

“Most of his remaining soul has been dispersed. Only one spirit is sealed here, and one soul is in Mr. Zhang’s hand. The remaining power in the Iron Buddha should have destroyed most of the residual soul. With the Heavenly Star Formation in place, Master Chizhi and I can work together to dispel the evil energy within the Iron Buddha. As for this soul and spirit, they will need to be refined over time.”

Wei Yang was almost speechless. This was truly a nuclear-level threat. It seemed not all those who practiced mystical arts followed the righteous path Master Chizhi spoke of. But then again, with so many temptations in the world, how many could resist? Even with the strictest selection processes, there would always be a few bad apples. Wei Yang couldn’t help but glance at Zhang Xiuqi. Did Longhu Mountain have such scoundrels? Would the Little Celestial Master be bullied there?

Noticing Wei Yang’s gaze, Zhang Xiuqi gently squeezed his wrist. “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.”

Wei Yang: “…”

It felt like he had somehow adopted someone else’s guard dog. Clearing his throat, Wei Yang asked, “Brother Qi, do you still need to oversee the formation to deal with this Dharma King?”

Zhang Xiuqi nodded. “At Zi Hour, when the star power is strongest.”

As he moved, a drop of blood rolled from his hairline and landed on Wei Yang’s hand, feeling as if it had burned him. Wei Yang grabbed Zhang Xiuqi’s hand and pulled him toward the chaotic pile of supplies. “Forget about exorcising demons for now. Let’s deal with your wounds first. Ouch! Damn it, this Wang guy really caused a mess…”

Letting himself be pulled along, the cold, detached demeanor Zhang Xiuqi had during the exorcism slowly faded, replaced by something more human.

Behind them, Master Chizhi frowned slightly. Though his eyes were blind, his spiritual vision remained intact, and he was particularly skilled at observing the souls of others. At this moment, in his spiritual sight, the sharp, almost world-tearing silver light surrounding Zhang Xiuqi was softening, as if his Three Souls and Seven Spirits had fully returned, bringing a rounded, harmonious glow. Meanwhile, the veil over Wei Yang’s soul seemed to be wavering, as if something was about to break through and surface.

Has something happened just now? The old monk frowned in confusion, but after a moment, he chuckled softly. Cause and effect were intertwined, and blessings and misfortunes would naturally follow. Such things were beyond the help of others. But having these two assist in eradicating evil was indeed a rare opportunity. Chanting a Buddhist mantra, the old monk shuffled to the sofa and sat down, leaning back without a care for his dignified image. There was still time—he’d rest for now.