Chapter 1587 - 762-2:

Chapter 1587: Chapter 762-2:

Fang Cheng shrugged and casually retorted:

"I’m not like you, needing to socialize as a celebrity idol."

"Honestly, staying at home is more peaceful and comfortable. Besides, there’s nothing outside that can really interest me, unless an S-Class expert comes to spar with me."

"Then you might as well come to Gufeng Temple and become a monk."

Cheng Jiashu shook his head, sounding somewhat helpless.

The two teased each other for a bit, then stepped through the mountain gate guarded by two stone lions.

A strong fragrance of incense immediately assailed their senses.

In front of the Great Hall, the square was crowded with people, and several human-height brass incense burners emitted streams of blue smoke, making one’s eyes squint.

A few ancient cypress trees, requiring several people to encircle them, had crowns like canopies, blocking the scorching sunlight outside.

The hum of the pilgrims’ prayers, mingled with the sound of bells, gave one the astonishing feeling of stepping from the mundane world straight into the Buddha Country Pure Land.

Familiar with the place, Cheng Jiashu led Fang Cheng away from the bustling main path, turning onto a quiet side path.

Just then, a monk wearing a gray robe and holding a broom walked toward them.

"Master."

Cheng Jiashu slightly lowered his sunglasses and stopped to greet him:

"Is Master Huiming in the temple now?"

The monk evidently recognized Cheng Jiashu, and upon seeing his face, immediately clasped his hands together in a respectful greeting:

"Mr. Cheng. The abbot is currently receiving guests in the backyard’s Jingxin Residence. You can go directly there."

"Thank you."

The two proceeded along the corridor, heading to the temple’s backyard.

The further they walked, the weaker the noise from the front yard became.

Replaced by the sound of bells and gongs from an unknown side hall and the low, prolonged chanting of scriptures.

Passing through a dense bamboo grove, they came upon a secluded, independent courtyard.

The courtyard door was ajar, and faint, intermittent conversations could be heard from within.

Before they got closer, Fang Cheng suddenly paused, gazing forward.

In the courtyard stood four people, apparently visitors who came to see the Zen master before them.

Three of them dressed as monks.

Their complexions were dark and coarse, bearing the unique texture of people long exposed to the elements.

They wore dark red robes that bared the right shoulder, with large beast bone rosaries around their necks.

This appearance suggested they were not monks from the East Capital, but Lamas from the distant Snowy Plateau.

The three clasped their hands in Dharma seals before their chests, standing like wooden stakes outside the hall door, oblivious to everything around them.

Beside them stood a fat man.

In the height of summer, at thirty degrees, this chubby man was wrapped in a thick, old-fashioned black leather jacket.

He looked like an overstuffed balloon, with the flesh on his neck squeezed together.

The most eye-catching was the pig’s head mask tightly fitted on his head.

The pink silicone material shimmered with grease under the sunlight, the pig’s mouth slightly open, and with the rise and fall of his chest, a murky, heavy breathing sound faintly emanated.

These four stood stiffly in the serene Buddhist backyard, exuding an indescribably eerie feeling.

Fang Cheng paused, his eyes flickering slightly.

Cheng Jiashu stopped with him, his gaze over Fang Cheng’s shoulder, lowering his voice:

"You sensed it too?"

Fang Cheng nodded, staring intently at the half-open courtyard door ahead.

The tranquil courtyard radiated an extremely abnormal oppressive feeling.

The air seemed to reverberate with a low humming sound, making one’s eardrums tingle.

There was clearly no wind blowing.

Yet the fallen leaves and tiny bits of dust on the ground defied logic, suspended in mid-air, trembling slightly with the humming sound.

The entire yard seemed shrouded by some force, frozen in the sunlight filtering through the tree canopies.

Looking through the courtyard door, in the center of the side hall, sat a gaunt old monk on a cushion, cross-legged.

His hands were clasped together, his eyelids closed, lips rapidly moving, silently reciting scriptures.

Outside the door, the four people stood motionlessly.

The three Lamas formed Dharma seals with their hands, veins bulging on their foreheads, as if a few small snakes wriggled beneath their skin.

Beads of sweat the size of beans continually rolled down his cheeks.

The chubby man wearing a pig head mask seemed to endure the greatest pressure because he stood at the forefront.

The black leather jacket he wore was completely soaked with sweat, and the sound of his breathing through the mask resembled an old bellows.

This was evidently a mental duel. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ

The old monk appeared calm but was no less at ease compared to the four people outside the door.

A few strands of his white beard trembled at high frequency with the recitation of scripture.

Suddenly, there was a muffled sound of "boom".

The chubby man’s knee weakened, causing him to stagger back half a step and crush the edge of a bluestone slab.

The intangible spiritual force field instantly disintegrated.

Floating leaves and dust fell to the ground.

The wind rushed back in, making the bamboo in the courtyard rustle.

The four awoke as if from a dream, gasping heavily.

The lama in the middle was the first to stabilize, letting out a cold snort:

"Such profound willpower, truly deserving as the heir to the Gufeng Temple’s magic lineage!"

He wore a large robe of black and red, gold trim adorning the neckline and cuffs, exuding a low-key grandeur.

His cheeks were gaunt with distinct, angular features, and tortoiseshell glasses perched on his prominent nose added a scholarly touch.

Neatly trimmed mustaches at his lips lent him an aura of authority.

"Amitabha Buddha."

Inside the side hall, the old monk slowly opened his eyes, his gaze clear:

"Your killing intent is too strong, the six senses impure. The recent divine will confrontation has indeed stirred your inner greed, anger, ignorance, and delusion."

"The Buddhist sect advocates tranquility and passivity, compassion to save the world. If you let murderous thoughts cloud your Buddhist heart, I’m afraid you’ll destroy the foundation you’ve cultivated for years.

"The sea of suffering is boundless, turn around and find the shore; you’d better go back."

His demeanor was calm, his words carrying Zen wisdom. He was evidently the current abbot of Gufeng Temple, Master Huiming.

The man in the pig head mask straightened up, laughed coldly, and stepped forward, saying:

"Old monk, I’m not part of the Buddhist sect, spare me the high-sounding Buddhist principles to brush me off."

"If you’re willing to be straightforward and tell us where the entrance to the hidden underground palace of Gufeng Temple is, we’ll take what we need and leave immediately. If not, we’ll tear down this Jingxin Residence today!"

Master Huiming’s expression did not change as he calmly explained:

"Gufeng Temple was destroyed by war two thousand years ago, and the underground palace site was long taken by the government for archaeological excavations."

"This place is just a later built imitation of an ancient courtyard, where would there be an underground palace? Outside rumors are nothing but groundless talk, why believe such absurd words?"

The chubby man turned his head and exchanged glances with the lama leader.

Their eyes glowed fiercely with murderous intent.

"Since the Zen master chooses punishment over reward and refuses to admit, let’s show our skills through our hands."

The lama leader pulled off the beast bone rosary from his neck, wrapping it around his wrist:

"When we break your bones, you’ll naturally want to speak the True Words."

As he spoke, he stepped forward, his gaze suddenly turning fierce:

"You from the Exoteric Sect of Han Land practice verbal Zen; no matter how strong your spiritual cultivation, the flesh is but clay."

"Indeed, we got no advantage in the divine will duel. Now, taste the ultimate Dharma Protecting Divine Skill of our Black Sect—the Dragon Elephant Wisdom!"

Upon finishing his words, his black and red monk robe swelled dramatically, and the bones within him exploded with a popping sound like frying beans, taking on an attack stance.

Inside the side hall, Master Huiming still sat cross-legged.

But his slightly trembling fingertips betrayed his weak state at the moment.

To suppress the four on the spiritual level single-handedly had already exhausted him greatly.

Facing the upcoming fierce physical battle, the old monk was evidently somewhat powerless.

The atmosphere in the courtyard plunged to a freezing point, the fight was about to erupt.

Cheng Jiashu, hiding in the bamboo forest, gently elbowed Fang Cheng, whispering:

"Good opportunity, the old monk is almost out of strength. If you go out and help now, he’ll have to honestly answer whatever you ask later."

Fang Cheng did not immediately respond.

His eyes peered through the gaps in the bamboo leaves, staring at the few lamas in the courtyard, looking somewhat astonished.

Because he recognized these people.