boyutpedia Chapter 116 Whose Past, Whose Former Achievements
Chapter 116 Whose Past, Whose Former Achievements
Chapter 116 Whose Past, Whose Former Achievements
"This is likely a trick of the Kui Niu (a mythical beast). Everyone be careful not to get scattered."
Tian Buyi's voice rang out from the crowd. He had displayed great power when facing the Kui Niu. Although he had not caused any substantial damage, the fact that he dared to take action meant that he had secured his position as the leader among the righteous cultivators on Liubo Mountain. As soon as he spoke, the others seemed to have found their backbone and gathered around him.
The Ghost King also glanced at the Azure Dragon and Mr. Ghost, who were not far away and were included in this world. The three of them exchanged glances for a moment, and then the latter two moved over without making a sound. Although they did not know when Kui Niu had acquired such supernatural powers, Tian Buyi was right. The situation was still unclear, so it was best not to separate.
Among the crowd, only two figures seemed to be in a daze.
Standing right next to Zhang Xiaofan, Tian Ling'er was the first to notice his unusual behavior. She reached out and tugged at his sleeve, asking in a low voice, "Xiaofan? What's wrong?"
Zhang Xiaofan opened his mouth, his voice dry: "This is Grass Temple Village."
What?!
He didn't deliberately suppress his voice, so his words clearly reached the ears of several people around him. Some looked surprised, some seemed thoughtful, and most were completely confused.
Now that someone knows where this place is, things will be much easier.
The Old Ancestor of Wind and Moon spoke first, his tone tinged with urgency: "Boy, quickly tell the Old Ancestor what kind of place Grass Temple Village is."
'
Before he could finish speaking, a clear, youthful voice suddenly came from afar.
"You brat, where are you going?"
A shout, tinged with amusement, came from the mouth of a teenager.
He looked to be about ten years old, with delicate features, and was leading four or five boys and girls, chasing after another child ahead.
The child in front of him was two years younger and shorter. He had a big smile on his face and was running forward with all his might, occasionally turning back to make a face.
"Zhang Xiaofan, if you've got the guts, stop right there!" the kid behind shouted.
The kid in front, named Zhang Xiaofan, spat and said as he ran, "Do you think I'm an idiot?!"
As he spoke, he ran even faster.
Seeing this, the boy behind him grinned, turned sharply, and took a shortcut, popping out from behind a tree with outstretched arms to block his path: "Run! Try to run again!"
The latter braked suddenly, too hard, and fell forward. The former quickly reached out to help, and the two of them tumbled together and landed on the side of a haystack. When they separated, they were both covered in hay dust.
On the haystack, the two boys looked at each other and suddenly burst into laughter.
"Huh!?" Lin Feng, the disciple of the Old Ancestor of Wind and Moon, suddenly brightened up, as if he had discovered something extraordinary. He quickly turned to his master and said, "Master! Don't these two children look like those two over there?"
As soon as these words were spoken, everyone's eyes turned to Zhang Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu.
Look at the two boys in the illusion, and then look at the two people in front of you. Their faces, their eyebrows, their expressions are exactly the same.
For a moment, everyone's expressions were different, but no one dared to go forward and cause them trouble. They had not forgotten Zhang Xiaofan's god-like appearance in the battle between the Blood Refining Hall and the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect.
Zhang Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu, who were directly involved, were completely stunned at this moment.
Looking at the two boys grinning foolishly on the haystack, at their innocent and carefree faces, they felt a stirring in their hearts.
Those were their happiest times.
There was no village annihilation, no blood feud, and no daily cultivation and repression.
Only the afternoon sun, the haystacks at the village entrance, and a group of playmates chasing and playing.
Composing himself, Zhang Xiaofan turned to the crowd and said, "They are indeed our childhood memories. Grass Temple Village is our hometown, but it was destroyed many years ago."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the familiar yet long-gone scene around him, and sighed softly, "This must be an illusion."
These words were actually meant for Tian Buyi and the others. The disciples of Qingyun Sect who were currently traveling outside were all carefully selected and trusted, and they were all core disciples who knew about the substitution plan.
Now that Zhang Xiaofan had spoken, they were undoubtedly much more at ease.
Before long, the scene changed like flowing water.
This time, the group arrived at a secluded valley.
The moonlight was exceptionally beautiful, its clear radiance like water, spilling across the valley and coating the wildflowers on the mountainside with a gentle layer of silver frost.
A gentle night breeze caressed the flowers, causing their shadows to sway, and a faint floral fragrance filled the air.
A boy and a girl strolled through the valley.
The girl walked ahead, her steps light and quick, her long, black hair cascading over her shoulders, swaying gently as she moved.
She suddenly stopped in front of a cluster of unnamed wildflowers in full bloom, turned to look at him, her eyes filled with moonlight and smiles.
The boy behind her finally stopped.
He never looked at the flowers; his gaze was always fixed on her, his heart and eyes filled with nothing but her.
Under the moonlight, her face was as white as jade, and a few strands of hair at her temples were lifted by the night breeze, gently brushing against her arched eyebrows.
He suddenly stepped forward, raised his hand, and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
The girl paused, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. She turned her head away, pretending to smell the flowers, but the smile on her lips was impossible to hide.
The valley was deathly silent. The demonic cultivators fell completely silent. One by one, they looked away, some gazing at the moon, others counting the blades of grass, as if they had suddenly developed a strong interest in astronomy and botany.
Everyone present was not blind; they could easily see that the young man in the picture was the Ghost King Wanrenwang in his youth, and the young woman was, without a doubt, Xiao Chi, the wife of the Ghost King Sect's former sect leader.
However, everyone knows that the sect leader's wife died more than ten years ago. This matter has always been the biggest taboo in the Ghost King's heart, and no one has ever dared to mention it in front of him.
Of course, those who follow the right path wouldn't care about such things.
Shangguan Ce smirked and said in a forced smile, "I never expected that the dignified Sect Master of the Ghost King Sect would have such a sweet and loving time."
These words were spoken in a sarcastic tone, and anyone could hear the sarcasm in them.
The Ghost King snapped out of his daze as if waking from a dream. He was not angry, nor even agitated. He glanced at Shangguan Ce and replied in an extremely gentle tone, "Humans are not plants or trees, how can they be without feelings? Unlike Brother Shangguan, who is all alone, without wife or children, I suppose you cannot understand such feelings."
Shangguan Ce's face stiffened, then he snorted coldly and said no more.
The video continues.
The main character is still Wan Renwang, but the setting keeps changing.
From the moment Wanrenwang married Xiaochi, the hall was filled with red candles and joy; to the moment the old Ghost King passed away peacefully, passing on the Fulong Cauldron and the position of Ghost King Sect Master before his death; and then to the moment when Wanrenwang, now in middle age, worked diligently to make the Ghost King Sect thrive, and he and Xiaochi were a loving and harmonious couple.
Then, Xiao Chi's figure gradually blurred, and blood light flickered on the Fulong Cauldron, leaving only a tomb with the Ghost King looking weathered.
Biyao's eyes were already red, but then she seemed to realize something and said, "Just now it was Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu, and now it's Father. Could it be that what we are seeing now is an illusion that has evolved from the experiences of these people?"
"What Biyao said is very likely." Youji nodded as if she had just realized something.
This guess was also agreed upon by many people present.
[Chat Group Channel]
It's still that small group without Zhang Xiaofan.
Xu Qi'an: "This isn't right, is it? Why does this plot seem so familiar?"
Inside the cave on Wuji Peak, Xu Qi'an stared at the live stream that Russell had started, his lips twitching.
Why does this scene look so familiar to him?
Isn't this just like the story in the Pagoda?
This is plagiarism! This is theft!
He righteously condemned this shameless act, and Russell's voice rang out in the live broadcast room: "How can the actions of scholars be called plagiarism? This is clearly borrowing."
In the scene, Russell and Xiao Yan are sitting on the top of the Kui Niu's head, looking down at the crowd below who are shrouded in the dazzling aurora, with a smile on their lips.
It was truly thanks to the blessing of the Five Spirit Kings that he was able to simultaneously draw upon the consciousness of so many people to create an illusion.
His original idea was simply to recreate the scene of Puzhi's massacre of the village. While that would have caused a sensation, it would never have been as convincing as it is now.
Look at the Ghost King's distraught appearance; the effect is even better than he expected.
The illusion continues.
Outside Incense Valley, the young Li Xun stood guard at the valley entrance, leading his disciples to block the ferocious beasts surging from the Ten Thousand Mountains. His magical power was overwhelming, and his white robes were stained with blood, drawing applause and admiration from countless righteous cultivators.
In the Qingyun Sect, Tian Buyi rose from an unknown disciple to become a peak master. The hardships and perseverance that no one knew about, and the figure of him wielding his sword alone in the dead of night, were all presented to everyone.
The life of the Old Master of Love and Lust, a man of both good and evil, unfolds slowly in a dream world, revealing his youthful recklessness, his midnight regrets, and the loneliness and desolation beneath his dissolute lifestyle—
All sorts of illusions flashed by in a flash.
Some are heartbreaking, some are touching, and some are chilling.
As the scenes continue to change, just when everyone is wondering whose memories will be next, the scene returns to the village from the very beginning.
The afternoon sun, the low earthen walls, and the dilapidated thatched temple at the village entrance.
"Strange, why are they back again?" a cultivator asked curiously.
"Could it be that what was just Lin Jingyu's memory is now Zhang Xiaofan's?" someone else speculated.
"Whatever, let's just keep watching."
Zhang Xiaofan frowned at this moment.
The first illusion was indeed Jingyu's; he could recognize it. But he could also sense that the scene before him was not his memory.
Could it be that among the people present, there were others who had been to Caomiao Village before it was destroyed?
As he was thinking this, the camera focused on the thatched temple at the entrance of the village.
Inside the thatched temple.
An elderly monk sat cross-legged in front of a half-collapsed statue. His face was withered, his beard and hair were all white, he wore a gray robe, held prayer beads in his hand, and muttered incantations.
On the ground beside the monk, two small figures lay side by side, fast asleep.
It was Zhang Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu from the illusion just now.
Faxiang's expression suddenly changed drastically amidst the crowd.
"Isn't that Master Puzhi from Tianyin Temple?!" Someone recognized Puzhi and exclaimed in surprise, "Master Puzhi is here too?"
"Are you confused? Didn't Master Puzhi pass away many years ago? How could he possibly be here!"
"So what's going on?"
'
'
Amidst the cacophony of discussions, Faxiang, at the location of Tianyin Temple, had already clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and silently chanted Amitabha Buddha.
Back then, Uncle Puzhi made a mistake that caused a huge disaster. He had always wanted to do something for Zhang Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu, but when he asked Uncle Tian Buyi of Qingyun Sect, he was told that Zhang Xiaofan had never joined Qingyun Sect, which puzzled him greatly.
Previously, when he saw Zhang Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu's memories and saw Zhang Xiaofan in the crowd who was in the Blood Refining Hall camp, he had thought of recognizing him. However, he did not expect that this time he would have to reveal all the old stories.
He realized it was his illusion.
Over the years, in the dead of night, he had dreamt countless times of the scene described by his Uncle Puzhi, and what he saw before him was exactly what he had dreamt all these years.
In the scene, Puzhi suddenly opened his eyes, which were bloodshot and faintly revealed a dark red aura, moving slowly like a living thing.
He silently chanted "Amitabha," clasped his hands together, and his lips moved rapidly, the mantra of the six-syllable mantra bursting forth from between his teeth. A golden light shone in the dilapidated temple, and his monk's robe fluttered in the night wind, as if he were trying to suppress something, but clearly without success. Dark red mist seeped out in wisps from the pores of his body.
"No—impossible—" Zhang Xiaofan gripped the Soul-Devouring Staff tightly, his knuckles turning white, and his breathing becoming heavy.
The scene before him gave birth to an idea he had never considered before, and it grew wildly like weeds.
Under the moonlight, the monk in the dilapidated temple raised his head, and his once compassionate and clear eyes now faintly revealed a blood-red hue.
He staggered to the entrance of Caomiao Village and knocked on the door of the first villager's house.
The killing began.
Everyone who witnessed this scene was stunned.
How could this be? Master Puzhi of Tianyin Temple was such a high-ranking monk, how could he commit such a killing?
Countless voices of shock, disbelief, and anger erupted from the Tianyin Temple side like explosions, but their senior brother, Master Faxiang, had his head bowed, his face full of compassion and self-reproach. Gradually, the voices of the monks from Tianyin Temple subsided and then fell silent.
Zhang Xiaofan's heart suddenly sank, so deep, so heavy, and then a familiar, cold feeling rose up, a deep, bloody, and malevolent aura enveloped him.
He felt like a clown in a traditional opera, both ridiculous and laughable.
All these years I've painstakingly upheld my promise to Puzhi, never daring to slacken for a single day, only to end up with this result.
Then, kill them!
Zhang Xiaofan let out a long breath, and when he looked at the Dharma Image again, his eyes were filled with coldness and ferocity.