Chapter 105: The Scholar of Buddhism and Taoism

At the border of the Jin Yun Kingdom, in the cool Tianliang Mountains, an unremarkable cave entrance concealed a vast cavern within. Flickering candlelight revealed a floor strewn with corpses, blood pooling like rivers.

Drip, drip...

A figure cloaked in black robes and a hood stepped out from the shadows, treading carefully through the sticky blood. In their hand was a bare branch.

“The Four Immortal Envoys and the Seven Altar Masters are all dead,” the figure thought.

Beneath the hood lay the young, delicate face of Jiang Min, who had traveled hundreds of miles to reach this place. She had arrived well before the altar’s opening, planning how to strike these foes.

The Four Immortal Envoys and the Seven Altar Masters were not particularly powerful. Their abilities were granted by the flesh-and-blood monstrosity, their bodies long corrupted by sinister black threads. Though they appeared to be at the early Foundation Establishment stage, their combat power was roughly equivalent to that of a Qi Refining adept.

Jiang Min dispatched them with ease.

Beyond the bodies of these corrupted cultivators, at the cavern’s center lay a pit filled with human flesh. Hundreds of cultivators’ “corpses” were heaped inside. Their bodies had not truly died, nor had their souls dissipated; their spirit seas had been cruelly destroyed by a secret art, turning them into irredeemable living dead.

These were sacrificial offerings collected by the cultists to feed the flesh-and-blood monstrosity. Years ago, Jiang Min had also encountered the Seven-Star Immortal Altar’s evil cultivators and had nearly become one of them.

She approached the pit and crouched down.

Closest to her was a slender girl, no older than ten, dressed in blue cloth, carrying a small embroidered pouch with an orchid pattern at her waist. Her frail body still retained warmth, but Jiang Min’s divine sense found her spirit sea in ruins, her soul bound by secret arts, unable to disperse or leave—neither alive nor dead.

The girl’s face was pale with a faint bluish tint, yet her expression was peaceful, as if merely asleep.

“This kind of secret art, once cast, is beyond remedy,” Jiang Min sighed softly.

“There’s no saving these people.”

She rose and gazed at the pit filled with living corpses—hundreds of cultivators, male and female, young and old, each perhaps with their own stirring stories, yet all destined to be buried and forgotten in this lonely cave.

Jiang Min raised her hand, summoning a cluster of flames at her fingertips, ready to burn these living dead, release their souls, and send them back to the cycle of reincarnation.

Suddenly, a faint voice came from the pit.

“Save... help...”

“Little one thinks... little one can still be saved.”

Jiang Min caught the words clearly, arched an eyebrow, and waved her hand. She pulled a person from the pit and tossed him onto the shore.

Thud!

The man hit the ground roughly, groaning as he steadied his aching waist. He glanced down at the blood stains on his robe, then hurriedly cupped his hands in salute.

“Thank you, senior, for your rescue.”

He was a refined young scholar, barely twenty, wearing a long gown and cloth shoes. His eyes were clear and pure like a spring, tinted with a shy, reserved demeanor.

Jiang Min did not lower her guard despite his harmless appearance. She asked sternly, “Why were you not affected?”

The scholar blushed upon hearing the young woman’s voice and replied nervously, “Senior, I have cultivated the Buddhist path. The evil arts of these cultivators have no effect on me.”

“I only fell unconscious because... I was struck at the back of the head,” he explained shamefully, touching the wound to show her, but found it already crusted over.

“Buddhist path?” Jiang Min raised an intrigued brow and said calmly, “Yet your aura is that of a Confucian cultivator.”

In this world, many paths to immortality existed. The Immortal Path was the most common. But beyond that, there were Confucianism, Buddhism, the Path of Demons, the Path of Ghosts... even countless strange and exotic heretical paths, each seeking longevity in their own way.

Confucianism and Buddhism were among the more common practices. The Confucian path cultivated “vast qi,” while Buddhism cultivated the mind and spirit. Jiang Min sensed the scholar’s aura as the vast qi of a Confucian cultivator, roughly equivalent to a Qi Refining stage.

Though her voice was youthful, Jiang Min’s tone bore the weight of many battles, carrying a subtle but dangerous pressure. The scholar grew more anxious, his face flushing red, and hurried to explain, “I first studied Buddhism but later switched to Confucianism.”

Seeing his nervous embarrassment, Jiang Min smiled lightly and said, “You should leave. This is no place for you.”

“Thank you again for your rescue!” The scholar bowed deeply, then fled the cave like a hunted beast.

Jiang Min watched his retreating figure calmly, then waved her hand. A sea of flames erupted in the pit.

The fire roared fiercely, engulfing the little girl with the embroidered pouch, her peaceful face slowly consumed by the blazing inferno.

Jiang Min began chanting the solemn Sutra of Salvation, performing a ritual to send these lost souls on their way.

“...May all suffering beings be saved from delusion; beings unaware, like the blind seeing sun and moon...”

These sutras were basic training for disciples of the Outer Sect of the Eastern Spirit Sect. Jiang Min had joined halfway and never formally studied them, but having absorbed many souls, she had learned some of the chants.

Before she finished, Jiang Min sensed a presence behind her. The scholar had returned, standing at a distance, chanting an incantation she could not understand.

“...Dota-gada-ye, Dodi-yata, Amitabha-bhih...”

As he chanted, the scholar’s shy demeanor vanished, replaced by serene solemnity and an otherworldly purity.

Jiang Min was surprised. So he had truly studied Buddhism before?

Well then, she thought. I’ll chant my sutras, and he can chant his mantras.

The Taoist sutras and Buddhist incantations mingled in the cave, creating a strange yet uniquely harmonious melody.

When the fire had died down and the Sutra of Salvation had been repeated several times, the scholar’s chant also concluded.

Jiang Min formed a soil-controlling seal, conjuring countless earth particles to fill the pit. Then she looked at the scholar.

“What were you chanting?”

The young man blushed again, instinctively lifting his hands to join in prayer, then remembered he was a Confucian scholar and hastily lowered them.

“I was chanting the Rebirth Mantra.”

Jiang Min nodded faintly. “Now that these restless souls have been sent on their way, leave this place.”

The scholar paused, pointing at the mountain of corrupted bodies. “What about these evil corpses? Won’t you deal with them?”

“Those?” Jiang Min sneered with ambiguous meaning. “No need to collect their remains. Let’s go. I’m going to seal this cave.”

Hearing this, the scholar followed Jiang Min out of the cave.

Boom!

At the cave’s mouth, Jiang Min performed her earth-controlling technique, and with thunderous rumbling, the entire cavern was completely filled and sealed. Perhaps years, decades, or centuries later, when someone digs here, they will find only bones scattered about, with no lingering souls crying out in grievance.

“Let’s go.”

Having finished everything, Jiang Min nodded to the scholar and turned to leave, but he suddenly called out anxiously.

“Senior, wait!”

Jiang Min stopped and glanced back. “What is it?”

“I am deeply grateful for your rescue and have no way to repay you, except to tell you of a certain opportunity,” the scholar said earnestly, bowing again.

“Oh? What opportunity?” Jiang Min asked with interest.

“I was on Mount Great Ring, contemplating an ancient chess formation when evil cultivators ambushed me and brought me here.”

“That ancient chess formation is hidden on a cliff of Mount Great Ring. It uses millennia-old Dao jade as the board and Dao resonance stones as the pieces. It is indestructible and inseparable. Meditating on the formation can enhance one’s divine perception and strengthen the Dao foundation.”

He blushed again, shyly adding, “If... senior trusts me, you might consider going to study it. It could aid your cultivation.”