Chapter 254: Surveying the World, Tempering the Mind Through Martial Arts

At first, the officials figured a new emperor was no big deal. The heavens were high and the emperor was far away, after all. When it came to actual governance, the empire still had to rely on them.

However, they soon realized how wrong they were.

On the very day the new emperor ascended the throne, a massive tide of strongmen replaced the imperial guards. They arrested officials everywhere, thoroughly investigated corruption, and launched a massive purge straight from the Capital.

Wherever they passed, heads rolled. They completely ignored any established rules inside or outside the imperial court. Worse still, not a single person managed to escape. Every district and every corner of the Capital was overseen by a City God Temple and its resident city god. With the forces of yin and yang working in tandem, there was nowhere to hide.

Right on the heels of the purge came the expansion of the City God Temples.

Driven by the new emperor's will, City God Temples began to spring up everywhere, radiating outward from the Capital. Wherever a temple was built, the great purge followed.

Local gentry, noble clans, powerful elites, and wealthy landlords.

Martial artists and cultivators—none were exempt, and there was no suspense to the outcome. Even those who seized the chance to rebel and put up a desperate fight were mercilessly suppressed the moment they rose up.

Of course, it took time between establishing a City God Temple and having the deity acknowledged by the common people to gather incense. Because of this, the sweeping changes remained somewhat controlled.

The purge was largely confined to areas covered by the City God Temples—territories under the court's direct governance, like the Capital. Moreover, it initially targeted only the mortal world. To the high and mighty martial artists and cultivators, it mattered little; no matter how great the uproar, it remained a secular concern.

But that soon changed.

Shortly after taking the throne, to demonstrate the upright nature of the new dynasty, the emperor issued a very brief yet incredibly direct political decree across his direct territories:

"Unified Immortal-Mortal Taxation."

In an instant, the entire world exploded into an uproar. The martial sects were somewhat more accepting, but the cultivator sects absolutely refused to swallow it. One after another, they were struck with terror and dismay.

Yet the new emperor's stance remained unyielding.

Like a serene lake suddenly churning with towering waves, the entirety of Great Shun was plunged into the turmoil of internal reformation.

Meanwhile.

Wang Ping quietly slipped away from the Capital, leaving the eye of the storm far behind. Following the First Seat, he traveled all the way to the Chanzhou Circuit in the distant southeast.

He even temporarily stopped soaking in the Ever-Suppressing Six Harmonies Cauldron.

His current strength simply wasn't enough, and it would take time for the City God Temples to blanket Great Shun. Soaking any longer wouldn't help him right now. He was better off going out into the world.

'Heavenly Yin Metal can strip away my immortal dao cultivation, but it has absolutely no effect on my Martial Dao Realm. If I advance to the Great Grandmaster Rank, my chances of winning will definitely be much higher.'

As for Kunlun, Wang Ping hadn't spoken to him again. He could sense that even though Kunlun hadn't been reincarnated for long, his strength was already nearing a recovery to the Tribulation Transcending Third Layer. Their statuses simply weren't equal. Talking more wouldn't yield anything anyway. It was better to leave first and let him scheme to his heart's content.

'I'll leave him to his own devices for a while.'

'He won't be on guard while I'm gone. When I get back, I'll use the Sound-Listening Technique to eavesdrop on whatever he's been plotting...'

Thinking of this, Wang Ping relaxed significantly. Just as the First Seat had advised, he simply tossed aside his immortal cultivation and let go of his worries regarding the Immortal-Brahma Sword Battle.

The world was vast, and he was going to explore it alongside the First Seat.

Chenlong's eyes were red with envy over this, but there was nothing he could do. Shouting about how invincible he was, he had no choice but to stay behind and handle the official affairs of the Tribute Hall.

And Wang Ping's first stop was the Chanzhou Circuit.

The moment he arrived, Wang Ping swept the area with his divine sense and immediately realized how different this place was. The incense energy here was so dense it actually dyed the sky!

'Good lord!'

Greatly surprised, Wang Ping pinched his fingers to run a quick calculation. If this sheer volume of incense was entirely refined into dharma currency, it would amount to hundreds of thousands!

This was only possible because martial artists were crude and had no use for incense. Moreover, with an expert of the Great Grandmaster Rank overseeing Shenlong Temple, sects of extraordinary persons didn't have the strength to steal it even if they wanted to.

Furthermore, unlike most prefectures and circuits in Great Shun, the Chanzhou Circuit bore absolutely no trace of extraordinary person sects. Whether orthodox or demonic, they had all voluntarily withdrawn. Even secular wars, bandits, and highwaymen steered clear on their own. Counting the days, this place had been at peace for a full century.

The reason for all this came down to a single sect.

"Shenlong Temple."

On the official road, Wang Ping and a woman shared a carriage. "Whenever natural disasters or man-made calamities strike," the woman said softly, "Shenlong Temple opens its granaries to distribute food and set up porridge stalls for relief."

"They treat everyone equally, even the black-headed commoners."

"On ordinary days, the temple's martial monks reclaim the surrounding wastelands. Afterward, they rent the land to the public at incredibly low rates, even giving away various farming tools for free."

"Over time, the hearts of the people naturally swore allegiance to them."

"The world calls Shenlong Temple a supreme sect that hasn't declined in thousands of years, attributing their success to someone of the Great Grandmaster Rank emerging in every generation. But in reality, that's an absurd fallacy."

As the carriage rolled along, Wang Ping looked out the window.

He saw farmers toiling in the fields and merchant caravans traveling the official road. Wang Ping didn't look at how hard they worked; he only looked at their expressions.

It was a look of hope.

High-spirited and uplifting. It was the belief that as long as they kept working hard, tomorrow would undoubtedly be better... No other evidence was needed. That expression was the best proof.

"This is their true foundation."

The woman's voice drifted over leisurely. "The territory of a single circuit spans several prefectures, holding a population of well over hundreds of millions. Yet it is a land where every household reveres the Buddha, and every heart turns toward Shenlong Temple."

"Shenlong Temple's Martial Dao is already brilliant, and they select their disciples from the absolute best of these hundreds of millions of people. What kind of heaven-chosen genius could they possibly fail to find?"

"How could their lineage ever suffer a broken generation?"

Wang Ping nodded in agreement. Bluntly speaking, in Chanzhou, the words of the imperial officials probably held less weight than the words of a Shenlong Temple monk.

A country within a country—it was exactly like this.

At this time, the sky was just beginning to brighten. Wang Ping and the woman arrived at the foot of a high mountain in the Chanzhou Circuit. Before their eyes stood a towering Buddhist temple that pierced the clouds.

Looking up, layer upon layer of temple halls stretched up the mountain, connected by traversing cloud bridges that linked them all together as one cohesive whole. Dotted across the high peak, the sight was magnificent up close. From afar, it didn't even look like a mountain; it looked like a giant Buddha forming the earth-touching mudra, sitting cross-legged upon the plains.

Wang Ping and the woman walked all the way to the temple gates.

"Gong!"

Instantly, a melodious bell toll echoed from deep within the temple. It sounded as solemn and dignified as the Buddha himself speaking. Following the toll came the sound of chanting.

This wasn't a single monk chanting. It was thousands upon thousands—every single monk in Shenlong Temple chanting together. All of them brimmed with robust vitality and possessed solid martial arts foundations. Their voices blended into a single wave, truly grander than an army of thousands of men and horses. Yet it wasn't deafening; instead, it carried a deeply tranquil and steadying weight.

Hearing the sound, the woman remained completely unfazed.

Wang Ping, however, was forced to stop in his tracks. He immediately circulated his Divine Intent to resist the indescribable chant that came crashing toward him like a mountain and a sea.

He didn't use his divine sense.

Before they set out, the First Seat had told him that this trip was for practicing martial arts, not immortal cultivation. While using his divine sense would be convenient, it wouldn't benefit his Martial Dao in the slightest.

For a time, Wang Ping squeezed his eyes shut. Driving his Divine Intent to its absolute limit, he manifested the illusory phantom of his Mind Monkey. Only then did he barely manage to stand firm against the tidal wave of chanting.

An unknown amount of time passed before the chanting finally began to fade.

Seeing this, the woman chuckled softly and explained, "Shenlong Temple's morning prayers are known as the Heavenly Dragon Zen Chant, Tathagata Sanskrit Voice. Even those at the Grandmaster Rank would struggle to resist it."

"The fact that you can stand firm proves your foundation is still solid. Though you haven't made much progress compared to when you first broke through to the Grandmaster Rank, you can't be blamed for that."

"After all, immortal cultivation is much easier than practicing martial arts."

Just then, the temple gates abruptly swung open. A group of monks strode out. Upon seeing the woman, they didn't waste a single word, immediately pressing their palms together in a respectful bow.

"The First Seat graces us in person. Forgive us for failing to welcome you properly."

Hearing this, the woman smiled and waved a hand. "How many times have I told you? There's no need for such formalities. What I did back then was just a small effort, not to mention I already owed your temple a favor."

"I'm visiting this time to collect that meteorite iron."

Realization instantly dawned on the leading monk's face. Shifting his gaze, he glanced at Wang Ping behind the woman before bowing once more.

"Please, follow this poor monk."

The woman stepped forward first, with Wang Ping close behind. They quickly entered Shenlong Temple, climbing upward and speeding across iron chains toward the mountain peak.

Along the way, the woman continued explaining to Wang Ping. "The founding ancestor of Shenlong Temple was somewhat of an unorthodox cultivator. He obtained a piece of meteorite iron that fell from the sky, which held scriptural legacies. According to the stories from above, that meteorite iron belonged to a Brahma Cultivator. It was a shattered fragment of a Heavenly Work Spiritual Treasure."

"A Heavenly Work Spiritual Treasure?!"

Wang Ping raised an eyebrow. The woman nodded with certainty. "It's highly likely related to the last Immortal-Brahma Sword Battle, though I don't know the exact details."

"As for why it shattered..."

Saying this, the woman pointed at the sun overhead. Wang Ping suddenly understood. 'The Heaven's Will Profound Blade! It was shattered by that immortal blade!'

"Shenlong Temple's founder received the legacy, but he lacked the talent for cultivation. His temperament was also too fiercely upright, totally incompatible with the Brahma Cultivators. Because of that, he could never manage to worship his way into the so-called Great Brahma Heaven. However, he happened to be a martial arts prodigy. So, he simply used that meteorite iron to forge his own Buddha statue to worship."

"From then on, successive generations of monks carried on his ideals, saving all living beings and passing down the scriptures. Even when they strayed down the wrong path, they always managed to bring order out of chaos. That's what made Shenlong Temple what it is today."

As her words fell, the group arrived at their destination.

Wang Ping looked up. Before him stood an incredibly majestic and imposing grand hall. Over a dozen martial monks were straining with all their might to carry a Buddha statue out of it.

"This is..."

Wang Ping's pupils shrank violently as he stared at the statue. The incense energy gathered upon it was so massive that it had manifested into a tangible halo, spinning like a wheel in a state of absolute, flawless perfection!

Hundreds of thousands of incense dharma coins?

Probably far more!

'A million! It might be as huge as a million... Unbelievable. Shenlong Temple has such an astronomical sum of wealth, yet they still haven't been robbed by the Immortal Gate?'

"This is that meteorite iron," the leading old monk sighed emotionally from the side. "Back then, the ancestral founder forged it into the Sixteen-Foot Golden Buddha and placed it in the hall. It has been worshipped by everyone for so many years, and now, it finally has a use. I only hope this item can lend a hand to you, Benefactor, and to the First Seat."

"Many thanks, Masters."

The woman didn't waste any words. With a wave of her hand, she immediately stored the sixteen-foot Buddha away. Seeing this, the surrounding monks closed their eyes and chanted a low Buddhist prayer in unison.

Witnessing this, Wang Ping glanced at the grand hall again.

His gaze settled on the center of the towering hall. The magnificent, golden Buddha—once wreathed in sky-filling incense—was gone. In its place sat a newly carved wooden Buddha statue.

"This is..." Wang Ping couldn't hide his surprise.

The old monk smiled at his reaction. "The temple has no surplus funds lately, so we're using a wooden one as a temporary replacement. We'll swap it for a bronze one some other day and slap a bit of gold leaf on it. That'll do just fine."

"Is it really that casual?"

Wang Ping was caught off guard. First, they casually gave away a meteorite iron Buddha that had been worshipped for thousands of years, and now they were replacing it with a wooden one. Why did it feel so half-hearted?

Hearing this, the old monk merely shook his head.

"Benefactor, you are too attached to appearances."

"We do not worship the statue, but the Buddha. And the true Buddha does not sit upon that high altar. The only reason we put up a statue is merely for the sake of ritual."

"If necessary—say, the temple is out of money and can't afford a bronze or iron statue, or the weather is freezing and we need a good piece of wood for a fire—we could burn this wooden Buddha, write 'Amitabha' on a piece of paper, and put it up there instead. The effect would be about the same. I imagine the Buddha would gladly accept it as well."

"After all, what sits in the hall is just a statue. The Buddha has always resided within our hearts."

Rumble!

As the old monk's words fell, Wang Ping—who had just experienced the baptism of the temple's chanting—suddenly froze in place. The image of the Mind Monkey abruptly surfaced in his mind.

Compared to before, he had already polished this Mind Monkey until it was incredibly lifelike. If he used the Ten Thousand Gods Terrestrial Chart to simulate it, it would possess the world-shaking power to overturn rivers and seas. Yet even so, he had never found a way to manifest it into the real world. He hadn't understood the reason before, but now, revelation dawned on him.

'It's just a statue. It only has an empty exterior.'

'To reach Manifesting Divinity, what I need is the Buddha—the Buddha within my heart... Practicing martial arts tempers myself, but cultivating Divine Intent tempers the heart. I've been walking the wrong path this entire time!'