Ch82.2 - Two Strings of Prayer Beads

Though Chongjue hadn’t personally killed the five this time, forcibly summoning the Infinite Hell array while disguising it as Heaven’s Dao caused nine bone chains to suddenly appear—previously only six had shown. They seemed intent on killing Chongjue on the spot, constantly tightening.

Chongjue walked in the moonlight like a deity or Buddha. Despite enduring such pain, he remained dignified and composed, his steps not faltering in the slightest.

The red mark between his brows resembled the newly appeared crack—flickering in and out of visibility.

“The flawless white jade World-Honored One now has stains and cracks.” The black-robed Chongjue crossed his arms, floating like a ghost alongside the body, clicking his tongue constantly: “Rather than harming your own body to forcibly summon the Infinite Hell array, it would’ve been cleaner if you’d let me simply strike off those five’s dog heads with one demon-subduing staff.”

The World-Honored One seemed not to feel the bone chains’ imperceptible torture, walking straight ahead without looking aside.

“You’ll corrupt him.”

“But your grand spectacle frightened him.” Black-robed Chongjue laughed heartily: “Did you see? That little bird with his face covered in tears, so terrified he feared you’d also cast him into Infinite Hell, never to be reborn.”

The virtuous Chongjue paid no attention, striding toward the Buddhist hall.

Black-robed Chongjue clicked his tongue, losing patience after just two sentences. His face suddenly darkened as he said coldly: “Even that Gong family trash couldn’t force you to personally kill… What will it take for you to generate the five poisons and evil thoughts so I can return to the body?!”

With his fury, the Buddhist hall’s screen crashed and shattered. The hall that had been rearranged not long ago was once again pulverized by spiritual power into dust.

Chongjue turned back coldly, the bone chains enhancing his icy features.

“The Gong family—did you summon them?”

The black-robed Chongjue said with disgust: “I merely informed them dragon blood could serve as lamp oil. They chose their own path.”

Chongjue: “You…”

“I’m sick of virtue’s suppression!” The man full of resentment floated like a ghost in midair, snow-white pupils fierce: “Su Xuanlin separated you and me. I’d rather be blind than accept one eye—I detest your constant rational discernment of good and evil.”

He wanted to act on whim—killing those he detested at will, indulging in lust when encountering beauty regardless of heavenly principles or ethical norms.

Unlike virtue that held fast to the original heart, always cautious, worried about generational propriety and norms, analyzing the gains and losses of killing versus not killing—indecisive and nauseating.

He just wanted to follow his heart.

Follow his naturally evil heart.

“Killing those five would’ve caused immediate decay of our five senses.” Chongjue watched him rage indifferently, saying coldly: “If Buzhou Mountain collapses in ten years…”

The black-robed Chongjue was almost laughing with anger: “Your sacrificing yourself alone isn’t enough—you want to drag my Xiaoxiao to death with you?!”

Chongjue’s brows furrowed tightly.

My… Xiaoxiao?

Su Hansheng and the black-robed Chongjue had only spent two or three days together. Why did his words and actions toward him seem so intimate?

Though the two shared memories, the virtuous Chongjue hadn’t grown malevolent from the black-robed Chongjue’s wanton slaughter. The black-robed Chongjue should also not feel such attachment to a junior…

Chongjue’s heart sank. “From now on, no one will know Phoenix Bone is in his body.”

If no one knew, Su Hansheng wouldn’t be forced to sacrifice himself. He would live out the rest of his life safely and peacefully.

“Hahaha.” The black-robed Chongjue laughed, seeming to understand his thoughts. “Indulgence and care for a junior? Hahaha, too funny.”

But his hand passed through the body without touching anything.

Chongjue didn’t want to deal with this madman. He sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion, instinctively wanting to finger prayer beads, only to grasp at nothing again.

Unable to calm his mind, bound by bone chains all over, with an incessantly chattering madman spouting nonsense in his ear, he simply took out the long-unused wooden fish, striking it once each time the black-robed Chongjue nagged a sentence.

Dong dong dong.

The virtuous Chongjue found the madman’s talking noisy; the black-robed one detested that vexing wooden fish. Seeing Chongjue pretending despite his unsettled heart, he sneered and floated forward. The murderous aura from before vanished without a trace.

This person changed faces like changing weather—even Su Hansheng feared his unpredictability.

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mJwV.

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xfU AQd QJ dIT wUBBIQAd ILYY mQdI GYfATB TpTA, PTBQdLdQJN, AdiQsQJN dIT mffBTJ SQAI.

Yet the sutras won’t form in your recitation, and even the warning instrument cannot still your heart.

Chongjue’s eyes remained tightly shut as sweat beads slowly seeped from his brow, as if lost in a demonic path with no way out or forward.

Suddenly, he struck the wooden fish in his hand with force.

With a bang, the wooden fish shattered instantly into a pile of waste wood scraps.

Chongjue seemed to have barely escaped from the heart demon’s path, his soul not yet settled. The bone chains extended like swimming dragons throughout the vast Buddhist hall as he clutched his heart, breathing heavily and shouting:

“Silence!”

The Buddhist hall fell silent.

The black-robed was no longer here.

***

Su Hansheng slept deeply for an entire day. When he woke the next morning, he was refreshed and energized.

Looking at his surroundings, he executed a perfect somersault off the bed and scurried toward the Buddhist hall in his robes.

“Uncle! Uncle!”

He still hadn’t properly teased Chongjue about yesterday’s drunkenness.

Yet after running to the Buddhist hall, he found Gong Handan kneeling there, lowering her eyes as she sipped tea.

The young novice knelt behind Chongjue with his head bowed, looking like he’d done something wrong, sniffling quietly without speaking.

Chongjue had changed into fresh robes, asking coldly: “Did you see your sister?”

Gong Handan nodded, then shook her head.

The little novice said quietly: “She… only glanced from afar and didn’t want to approach. She turned to leave.”

Chongjue asked: “Where do you want to go?”

Gong Handan had removed all her gold and silver ornaments, wearing only a Falling Parasol Lodge robe from somewhere. Her slender frame seemed like the wind could blow her over, showing no sign of the power to kill someone instantly contained within her body.

She lowered her eyes, her appearance meek: “Back to where I lived before.”

Chongjue’s brows furrowed slightly.

Su Hansheng quickly forgot about teasing Chongjue, rushing forward: “Sister, why go back there? What if other members of the Gong family are still there and abduct you?”

When facing Chongjue, Gong Handan appeared indifferent, but the moment she saw Su Hansheng, her lifeless eyes seemed to brighten. She spoke softly.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Su Hansheng was stunned.

Used to it?

Used to the twenty years of being controlled by a device?

Su Hansheng stared blankly at Gong Handan, as if understanding something.

Gong Handan had lived her entire life controlled by others, unable to move or act without someone else’s guidance. Now that she’d been given freedom, she didn’t feel joy—perhaps even felt fear and rejection.

Escaping a familiar environment to enter a strange world wasn’t something one could adapt to in a short time.

Su Hansheng didn’t stop her, asking: “Do you have any other people who treat you well? Not from the Gong family!”

Gong Handan tilted her head thoughtfully: “Yes.”

Su Hansheng perked up: “Who?”

Gong Handan said: “You.”

Su Hansheng: “…”

Su Hansheng persisted: “Anyone else?”

Gong Handan thought for a moment, then said after a long pause: “One more.”

Su Hansheng no longer had much hope: “Who?”

“She said my lamp is beautiful,” Gong Handan said. “If I sell it, it should be worth a lot of money.”

Su Hansheng: “?”

Sister, that person wants to sell you—how is that treating you well?

Su Hansheng thought this sister seemed less cold as ice and more… a bit simple-minded?

Gong Handan couldn’t find a path forward, and Su Hansheng didn’t want her returning to that nightmare place. So they had to wait for Lingbo Valley’s people to arrive.

Gong Handan didn’t want to stay in the Buddhist hall. She rose and walked around, then hearing the bell from Falling Parasol Lodge, suddenly asked: “Can I go see her again?”

She meant Gong Fuqu.

Ordinary people wouldn’t ask others about their whereabouts before moving, but Gong Handan didn’t dare act independently—she could only rely on others to direct her movements.

This wasn’t something that could change in a short time.

Chongjue understood this principle and nodded: “Yes, just don’t leave the academy.”

Gong Handan’s sacred object spiritual power had been concealed, and the academy’s barrier was under Chongjue’s control, preventing her from foolishly escaping back to that nightmare place.

Gong Handan nodded in agreement and drifted away.

Su Hansheng quickly caught up: “Sister, use your feet to walk. The academy doesn’t allow wind-riding.”

Gong Handan listened obediently to Su Hansheng, immediately descending lightly. She turned back to look at him.

Like this?

Su Hansheng nodded.

Only then did Gong Handan slowly walk away.

Su Hansheng watched worriedly for a moment before turning back.

Chongjue was already meditating with closed eyes.

Su Hansheng sat across from the small table, speaking softly: “Uncle?”

Chongjue didn’t open his eyes, only saying: “What is it?”

Seeing the pale, sickly complexion on Chongjue’s face—as if recovering from a grave illness—Su Hansheng knew his actions yesterday couldn’t have been without cost. His rare conscience stirred, swallowing back the teasing words he’d prepared, obediently saying instead: “Nothing. As long as Uncle is fine.”

He bowed respectfully and rose to leave for morning class.

Chongjue opened his eyes, stopping him: “Xiaoxiao, I have something for you.”

Su Hansheng turned back to see a box on the small table containing that string of glass prayer beads, now newly carved with protective talismans.

Su Hansheng had previously said haughtily he didn’t want these broken beads. Now he happily plopped down, holding the glass prayer beads with obvious delight: “Uncle is giving them to me again?”

Chongjue’s prayer beads had all been crushed. His hands were empty. The wooden fish he’d rarely struck before had been reduced to powder.

He looked toward the string of prayer beads temporarily placed on Su Hansheng’s hand, gently saying: “Mm. The other string of prayer beads you have, you can first…”

Before he could finish, Su Hansheng cheerfully said: “Yes! Now I have two strings of Uncle’s prayer beads—I can wear one on each wrist, alternating which one.”

Chongjue: “…”

Su Hansheng asked: “Uncle, Uncle, what’s wrong?”

Chongjue seemed to laugh silently, shaking his head lightly: “Nothing. The morning bell has rung four times. If you don’t hurry to class, you’ll be late.”

Su Hansheng quickly fastened the prayer beads around his wrist and sprang to his feet. He ran a few steps, then turned back: “Uncle, I have a ten-day break starting tomorrow. There’s an autumn market at the nearby bazaar—would you… like to come along and browse with me?”

Chongjue’s hand twitched slightly. After a long moment, he said: “I have matters tomorrow…”

Before he could finish rejecting him, Su Hansheng’s head drooped and his lashes lowered, looking terribly disappointed.

“…” Chongjue paused, then continued: “I do have time in the evening. I can go for a bit.”

Su Hansheng immediately erupted in joy, his disappointment vanishing as if it had been an illusion. Fearing his uncle might change his mind, he quickly said: “Perfect! I’ll come to the Buddhist hall early tomorrow morning, and we’ll go to the market right after I finish my lessons.”

Chongjue: “Mm.”

Su Hansheng was so happy he got a bit carried away, giggling as he swung the glass prayer beads on his wrist, producing a clear ringing sound: “So the glass prayer beads and Uncle’s willingness to accompany me to the market tomorrow… does that mean…”

Chongjue’s brow twitched slightly, with a premonition that this shameless youth wouldn’t say anything good.

Sure enough, Su Hansheng said with barely concealed glee: “…is that a reward for my good behavior lately?”

Chongjue: “…”

Chongjue’s hand, which had been fingering his sleeve, suddenly tightened. He said lowly: “Su Xiaoxiao!”

Su Hansheng burst out laughing and fled, calling back as he ran: “Hahaha, Xiaoxiao doesn’t know anything!”

His incessant chatter of “doesn’t know” faded into the distance.

Chongjue rubbed his brow, headache-stricken.

He should have been angry at the youth’s insolence. But Chongjue only realized this after a long moment.

There was no anger in his heart at all. Instead, it felt like being lightly scratched by a bird’s claw around his heart—helpless yet indulgent.

Chongjue froze.

Su Hansheng had barely made it down the back mountain when he suddenly heard a tremendous crash.

It seemed a corner of the distant Buddhist hall had been demolished?

Had Uncle gotten so angry over that “reward” comment?

**