Chapter 363: Give me death

As the statue of the Ming King gradually disintegrated, as if turning into sand, all the monks of Daming Temple stared wide-eyed, their faces filled with horror and a growing sense of fear.

The three elder monks continued to bow and prostrate themselves in the direction where the Ming King statue had vanished, while all the other monks, regardless of their fear, silently chanted the Ming King Sutra of the Seated King.

It was only after the Ming King's sculpted body had completely dissipated that the three elder monks finally raised their heads, turned to face Jiyuan, and respectfully bowed in a Buddhist salute.

"Goodness gracious, Great Ming King Buddha," one began, "Immortal Master, the monks of Daming Temple…"

Jiyuan nodded slightly towards the elder monk.

"Abbot, rest assured," Jiyuan replied, "I guarantee the safety of all masters here."

Though not loud, his voice softly permeated the entire Daming Temple, allowing every bewildered or lost monk to hear him clearly.

Jiyuan adjusted his words to his audience. Previously, he had told the Ming King that Lu Shanjun knew his limits whether Jiyuan was present or not, but most of these monks were clearly terrified. What they most wanted to hear was exactly what Jiyuan had just said.

As he spoke, Jiyuan also looked towards Jueming, who was not far away. Truth be told, Jueming, formerly Zhao Long, had changed the least among the Nine Knights from back then, apart from his shaved head, even less than the well-preserved Luo Ning Shuang.

Indeed, although Jueming appeared to be a middle-aged monk, in Jiyuan's memory, Zhao Long had always looked older than his age. Even in his early twenties, he had already possessed a middle-aged appearance, much like he did now.

Even now, Jueming was still chanting. Unlike the other monks around him who began chanting after the Ming King statue turned to dust, he had been chanting ceaselessly from the start, unaffected by the immense commotion of the earlier clashes between demonic arts, Buddhist magic, and immortal powers.

The power of the Ming King was still slowly flowing from his body, but it had dwindled from a gushing river to a mere trickle. It now drifted and dispersed only within Daming Temple, as the statue of the Seated Ming King was no more.

While Jiyuan was carefully observing Monk Jueming, Lu Shanjun on the other side had already risen to his feet.

The Ming King's Demon-Subduing Mountain-Quelling Dharma had been truly formidable. When the illusory mountains finally materialized, they became a genuine weight of a thousand towering peaks, irresistible. If Lu Shanjun had been alone, he would likely have been instantly crushed beneath them, or at least severely wounded. Even with the combined help of the two Golden-Armored Warriors, they were still almost flattened.

Fortunately, in the very next instant, the immortal sword had demonstrated its keen edge, cleaving the massive mountains formed by Buddhist magic.

At this moment, Lu Shanjun glanced sideways at the two Golden-Armored Warriors beside him. These two warriors were incredibly robust, their crimson faces stern, their golden armor gleaming subtly rather than glaringly, and their yellow sashes fluttering in the wind. Just standing there with their powerful arms, they visually exuded an oppressive might.

Seeing that the warriors remained still, Lu Shanjun gave a shake of his fur, then leaped from the mountain hundreds of yards away. His demonic energy considerably restrained, he gracefully arced through the air and landed very gently on the already chaotic plaza of Daming Temple, settling a dozen or so yards behind Jiyuan.

Upon landing, his massive demonic form gradually contracted within a misty glow, eventually transforming into a young man dressed in a pale yellow, cloud-patterned robe.

Lu Shanjun respectfully cupped his hands and bowed to Jiyuan.

"Lu Shanjun greets you, Master!"

Jiyuan shifted his gaze from Jueming, turned, and nodded at Lu Shanjun.

"Had the Ming King's avatar not appeared, I would not have shown myself today. Just consider me absent."

"Understood!"

After acknowledging, Lu Shanjun straightened up. He surveyed the surrounding monks, glanced at the three resigned elder monks, and finally looked towards Zhao Long, who was still chanting.

He did not ask Jiyuan whether Zhao Long should be spared, nor did he utter any unnecessary words. Lu Shanjun understood his master's character perfectly; what he said was absolute. Thus, he had no intention of altering his plan.

Now, apart from the gentle whisper of the wind, only Zhao Long's chanting remained throughout the temple, making it seem even quieter. Lu Shanjun, Jiyuan, and all the monks simply waited in silence.

After a long while, no more Ming King power flowed from Monk Jueming, and his continuous chanting finally ceased.

Monk Jueming opened his eyes and looked around. He saw the chaotic mess of the temple plaza, but beyond that, the temple where he had lived for many years had not suffered much damage. Most areas were intact, with perhaps only a few missing roof tiles.

Standing up, Jueming's gaze searched around but he did not find the giant demon. Instead, his eyes immediately fell upon Jiyuan. After a slight moment of surprise, he asked somewhat uncertainly,

"You are… Master Ji?"

Jiyuan smiled and nodded gently at him.

"Should I call you Zhao Long or Master Jueming?"

"Whatever you wish to call me, Master…"

Facing Jiyuan, Jueming still felt somewhat ashamed. As he spoke, he intended to bow but, out of habit developed over the years, instinctively pressed his palms together in a Buddhist salute.

He then looked up and saw the unfamiliar man standing not far behind Jiyuan. Their eyes met, and Jueming vaguely understood that this must be Lu Shanjun.

Lu Shanjun took a few steps forward, approaching Jueming.

No monk attempted to interfere now; even the three elder monks nearby had closed their eyes.

"Zhao Long, have you changed your mind?"

The middle-aged monk in front of him let out a long breath and replied, though not directly answering the question:

"I am not a person of great courage. I couldn't grasp what I should have, nor could I let go of what I should have released. Faced with fame and fortune, I knew not how to choose, and meditating in peace, I failed to grasp Buddhist principles. The life-and-death predicament I set for myself many years ago has dragged the temple into this state. What a ridiculous life!"

Jueming gave a bitter smile, tinged with a sense of release. He bowed to Lu Shanjun in a Buddhist salute, speaking as a monk:

"Patron Lu, I ask that you grant me death."

As he finished speaking, Jueming's Buddhist bow was exactly ninety degrees, and he remained in that position.

A gentle breeze swept through the temple, and the entire Mount Xiaoliang became utterly silent.

Lu Shanjun took a few more steps closer, straightened his sleeves, and then cupped his hands together, extending them forward in a respectful bow towards Monk Jueming.

This scene, observed by all the monks of Daming Temple and by Jiyuan, paused for a few brief moments. Then, Lu Shanjun straightened up, and a yellow-black shadow, obscuring the light, enveloped him. This shadow ultimately transformed into a colossal mouth.

Monk Jueming raised his head, held his breath, and widened his eyes, watching the gaping maw grow larger and larger. Then, his vision went black, and he completely lost consciousness.

Many monks, still dazed, felt a tremor in their hearts as they watched the monstrous mouth formed by the demon instantly devour Jueming. Besides the inevitable fright, a unique realization dawned upon them.

The three elder monks opened their eyes at this point. After a quiet "Goodness gracious," they lowered their heads and resumed chanting.

Jiyuan glanced at them and murmured softly,

"Daming Temple is indeed fortunate."

A little further away, the two Golden-Armored Warriors had already stepped over the temple's outer wall and walked into the plaza. Their forms had returned to their normal state, though they were still several times larger than ordinary humans.

Jiyuan now possessed a total of six Golden-Armored Warriors. After forging these six from the initial numbers of the Three Heavenly Stars and Three Earthly Fiends, Jiyuan felt he had enough. Therefore, he did not increase their number but chose instead to incrementally infuse more paper scraps into them with greater effort whenever he had the time.

If he had merely pursued quantity, these two warriors would not possess such might today.

However, no matter how much their quality improved, the Golden-Armored Warriors remained fundamentally the same. At this moment, they unhurriedly approached Jiyuan and saluted him in a highly formal manner.

"My Lord!"

Their voices were calm, their expressions indifferent, utterly devoid of fluctuation, truly oblivious to everyone else.

Though they saluted Jiyuan, they positioned themselves one on each side of Lu Shanjun, clearly still adhering to their previous orders.

Lu Shanjun observed the two warriors for a few extra moments. If he hadn't known from experience that Golden-Armored Warriors were emotionless, he might well have thought them arrogant.

"Abbot," Jiyuan began, "Daming Temple has lost a meditation room, a corner of its courtyard wall, and a section of its plaza. These two warriors of mine have no other particular virtues, but they do possess immense strength. How about they help you rebuild the temple?"

The Abbot of Daming Temple looked up at the two Golden-Armored Warriors beside Jiyuan, who, in response to Jiyuan's words, also cast their gaze toward the elder monk.

In the elder monk's eyes, the two warriors had almost identical postures. They didn't even turn their heads, let alone their bodies, simply lifting their heads and casting a sidelong, downcast glance, unblinking and unwavering. An intense sense of disdain emanated from them, bringing with it an even stronger psychological sense of oppression.

Seeing that the warriors' faces practically screamed "unwilling," the elder monk didn't dare be so imprudent as to accept.

"Thank you for your kind offer, Immortal Master," he replied, "but Daming Temple has not suffered severe damage. The minor repairs will be treated as daily practice by the monks, and we can restore it within half a month. There's no need to trouble the two Divine Generals."

Jiyuan looked at the Golden-Armored Warriors, shook his head, and said nothing further, as it was not convenient to discuss the warriors' secrets in front of outsiders.

"In that case, I shall take my leave now."

Seeing Jiyuan about to depart, Lu Shanjun grew a little anxious.

"Master, where are you going? Did you foresee my trouble and specifically come to help me this time?"

Given the question, Jiyuan didn't want to admit he had been following all along; Lu Shanjun might then become overly restrained in his actions.

"I was overseas before, and upon learning of your transformation, I returned to check on you. I still have other matters, so I'll go ahead. Come find me once you've finished what you need to do."

As he spoke, the two Golden-Armored Warriors transformed into two streaks of light and flew into Jiyuan's sleeve. Others couldn't even discern that they were paper figures.

Lu Shanjun cupped his hands in a salute and said, "Understood!" He watched Jiyuan step onto the clouds and ascend into the sky, then couldn't help but call out again,

"Master!"

"Hmm?"

Jiyuan paused and looked at Lu Shanjun.

The latter rummaged through his belongings, finding only a packet of dried leaves besides some dog-head gold and silver coins. Helpless, he took a few steps closer and handed the packet to Jiyuan.

"Master… it can be used for tea…"

"Hahahahaha… That's very thoughtful of you."

Jiyuan took the small packet of goji berries, chuckled, and departed on the clouds. Lu Shanjun felt a slight disappointment but also a significant sense of relief, knowing that his master had no objection to his actions.

Looking around again, Lu Shanjun noticed that as soon as Jiyuan left, the monks clearly became extremely nervous.

"Heh heh, masters, I apologize for the offense earlier. I, Lu, destroyed a meditation room and a section of the outer courtyard wall. As for the plaza, that was done by the Seated Ming King."

As he spoke, Lu Shanjun took out a silver ingot, weighing at least ten taels, from his robe and offered it to the Abbot of Daming Temple.

"This is compensation. Please accept it, Abbot."

"No, no need," the elder monk immediately refused, "We will repair it ourselves; there's no need for Patron Lu to compensate us…"

The elder monk immediately refused, but Lu Shanjun repeated his request with added emphasis.

"Please, Ab-bot, accept it!"

"Oh, well then, goodness gracious, Great Ming King Buddha," the elder monk said, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. "Thank you, Patron Lu!"

The elder monk, not daring to delay further, accepted the silver and returned a Buddhist salute.

"Alright, I'm leaving now. Perhaps you will see Monk Jueming again in the future, so don't fret about him for now."

With that, Lu Shanjun ascended on the wind, flew out of Mount Xiaoliang, glanced back at Daming Temple, and then vanished into the distance.

It was only after a considerable time that all the monks of Daming Temple finally let out a collective sigh of relief.