Song Zongwu, after a near-death exchange, had exhausted his lifespan.
His face was covered with deep furrows, and the newly grown short hair had turned silvery white, like that of a decrepit man on the verge of death.
Ren Qing wanted to support Song Zongwu as they walked, but the latter shook his head.
"Ren Qing, you should already have reached Yin Messenger realm consummation, right?"
"Yes, the embryonic divine ability is called Casket Dragon Chant, it is-"
Ren Qing had just wanted to explain his divine ability when Song Zongwu stopped him and said, "There is no need to tell me so clearly. Divine abilities are the foundation, never reveal them to others."
"I know."
Ren Qing's heart was filled with mixed emotions. From the moment he came to this world, Song Zongwu had taken on the role of a guide and had shown him great kindness.
If he were to die here...
Song Zongwu said, "The path of cultivation must ultimately be walked by oneself."
Ren Qing turned to look at Song Zongwu. Why did it feel like last words before death, even though there was no intent of death in the latter's tone?
He tentatively said, "If lifespan were extended with techniques, it should still be possible to-"
"Hahahaha."
Song Zongwu let out a bold laugh. The aura he emitted not only did not weaken, but instead became even more exuberant, like blazing fireworks.
"If I break through to the Yang Spirit realm, after matters in Jingzhou are settled I will leave Xiangxiang and return once to Linggan Temple. If I do not break through, then let it be."
"Linggan Temple?!!"
Ren Qing thought of the temple on Liuli Mountain, wasn't it called Linggan Temple?
"That is where I cultivated in my childhood. It is really very far, very far from Xiangxiang."
"Senior Song, has your memory recovered?"
Ren Qing had once asked Song Zongwu about Buddhism, but the latter's memories from before coming to Xiangxiang had inexplicably disappeared.
"I remember now."
Ren Qing told Song Zongwu about his previous encounter with Liuli Mountain. The latter merely nodded, as if he had long expected it.
Song Zongwu had no intention of hiding anything from him and began to describe the Buddhist techniques in detail, the content of which made one's hair stand on end.
Buddhist techniques have no division of realms, but the ranks after becoming a Buddha are divided into "Arhat Fruit," "Bodhisattva Fruit," and "Tathagata Fruit."
Ren Qing could not help but ask in confusion, "Becoming a Buddha?"
"When a technique is cultivated to completion, one becomes a Buddha. Arhat, Bodhisattva, and Tathagata are merely classifications of Buddhas, collectively called Buddhas. Cultivation has no realms..."
Song Zongwu had been too young back then to have any real concept of this, but a Buddha, even if only a terrestrial immortal-level existence, would at least have a heavenly aberration.
"Once Buddhist techniques are mastered, there will not be the slightest bottleneck during cultivation."
Ren Qing thought of the invasiveness of Buddhist qi, comparable to heavenly demon qi, and could not help but ask, "Because Buddhist qi is hard to control?"
"No, Buddhist techniques can indeed control Buddhist qi."
Song Zongwu gestured for Ren Qing to look at the Hundred Buddha Diagram on his back.
"But once the proper fruition is achieved, at most a hundred years after becoming a Buddha, the cultivator's body and soul will be swallowed by Buddhist qi for unknown reasons. One could also say they become part of a Buddhist fruition."
"Swallowing dozens of Buddhas becomes an Arhat, swallowing hundreds becomes a Bodhisattva, swallowing thousands becomes a Tathagata. Buddhist qi is... a great terror."
Ren Qing carefully counted the Hundred Buddha Diagram. There were a full ninety-seven Buddhas on it, representing that this fruition had swallowed ninety-seven Buddhas.
"The Buddhist technique I cultivate is called the Immovable Sutra, corresponding to the Deer-Riding Arhat."
Because of the uniqueness of a fruition, the Immovable Sutra could naturally only be cultivated by one person at a time, and "Buddha children" also had aptitude restrictions.
Song Zongwu laughed self-mockingly and said, "If I had just now used Buddhist qi to break through to the Yang Spirit realm, my Buddhist cultivation would indeed have greatly advanced."
Ren Qing did not know what to say. How could there be such bizarre techniques in this world?
That Liuli Mountain was likely drawn to Jingzhou for Song Zongwu, wanting him to quickly complete the Immovable Sutra. This showed the power of Buddhism.
While talking, the two arrived at the foot of a high mountain and then began climbing toward the summit.
"When I left Linggan Temple, I was only five or six years old and knew very little about Buddhism, but I vaguely remember that many eminent monks lived through ten lifetimes before dying."
Ren Qing understood the meaning behind Song Zongwu's words.
What Buddhist cultivators could do was to delay becoming a Buddha as much as possible, avoiding disaster through reincarnation, but ten lifetimes was already the limit.
If mortals were allowed to choose, there would probably be quite a few who would go cultivate Buddhist techniques.
In those ten lifetimes, even without touching techniques, one could live at least forty to fifty years per life, that would be four to five hundred years in total.
If one deliberately extended lifespan, one could live at least over a thousand years.
Even though the final outcome would be the same.
Ren Qing looked at Song Zongwu with complicated emotions, shocked by the latter's resolve.
Clearly already on the verge of death, he could have broken through to the Yang Spirit realm just by accepting Buddhist qi, and then consider completing fruition after a thousand years.
Yet Song Zongwu chose the most difficult path.
During the climb, Song Zongwu was already panting heavily, his whole body soaked with blood and sweat, even the pupils in his eyes trembling slightly.
"Senior Song, do you... know how many lives you have lived?"
Song Zongwu came back to himself, shakily gulped down a mouthful of wine, and only then replied, "Of course I don't know. That's why I must struggle to live."
Ren Qing was left speechless.
The two walked in silence to the mountain peak. What should have been only a half-hour journey instead took Song Zongwu over five hours.
Song Zongwu stood on the jagged cliff and could not help stretching lazily.
The sun was setting in the west, fiery red light covering the mountain top, making the fallen leaves all over the ground look like gold, with dew shimmering brightly.
"After losing all cultivation, seeing the world like this is truly beautiful."
Song Zongwu said with a sigh.
Then he turned to look at Ren Qing and said again, "Ren Qing, you accompanied me up the mountain, but now I want to see the scenery below the mountain."
"I'll take you-"
Ren Qing's heart pounded wildly, his face flushing slightly.
With Song Zongwu's physique, setting off down the mountain again would undoubtedly be cutting off his path to life.
"No need."
Song Zongwu's gaze was incomparably sharp. In his eyes, Ren Qing overlapped with Song Rong, and he could not help but scold, "Either help me collect my corpse, or witness me achieve the Yang Spirit realm!"
"How could I wait to die of old age?!"
"How could I, Song Zongwu, wait to die of old age?!!"
Song Zongwu drained the Peach Wine in one gulp, exerted strength with his legs, and leapt toward the cliff. His body lost control and fell toward the ground below at extreme speed.
The mountain wind struck his face, truly exhilarating.
Ren Qing subconsciously stepped forward half a step, but in the end could not bear it and tightly closed his eyes.
Song Zongwu only felt his consciousness being infinitely stretched. The pressure of death caused hallucinations to appear before his eyes.
Memories flashed back like a revolving lantern.
Inside a grand Buddhist hall, the air was filled with the scent of incense, the sound of wooden fish being struck echoing continuously.
At the center was a statue of the Deer-Riding Arhat, emitting faint light, as if it were about to swallow everything around it.
A young novice squatted at the base of the altar, his exposed buttocks lightly kicked by a monk.
The monk could not help but laugh and scold, "Liao Wu, Liao Wu, knowing that your master is looking for you in the meditation room, why are you hiding here again to avoid trouble?"
"I understand, Senior Brother Hui Wu."
The novice Liao Wu covered his buttocks and ran toward the side hall. The way was rather quiet.
He arrived at the door of the meditation room and leaned his head toward the crack to look inside, but did not see his master. He simply opened the door and went in first.
As soon as Liao Wu entered, his attention was drawn to two books placed on the wooden table.
He flipped through the books. The contents inside were obscure and difficult to understand, and the illustrations were all various kinds of evil ghosts, frightening him until his face turned pale.
"Asura Technique?"
Unconsciously, Liao Wu became absorbed, shocked by the profundity displayed by the Asura Technique.
At this moment, the scene became blurred, as if a segment had been forcibly deleted. In the next instant, the Buddhist hall turned into ruins burning with flames.
Liao Wu stood there dazed in tattered clothes.
The monks were tending to their companions' injuries, and crying could be heard. The statue of the Deer-Riding Arhat had also split into two halves.
Liao Wu looked toward the raging fire. An old monk whose appearance could not be clearly seen walked up to him.
The old monk brushed the dust off Liao Wu and said in a helpless tone, "In the end, it still couldn't be avoided. You are destined to become a Buddha child."
"Master, I don't want to be a Buddha child..."
The old monk's expression showed a trace of consolation, then he said, "Since that is so."
He suddenly struck out with a palm, hitting Liao Wu on the forehead. Amid the monks' incredulous cries, Liao Wu lost all signs of life.
The old monk extracted Liao Wu's soul and then drifted away from Linggan Temple.
He was going to find the corpse of a prematurely dead infant, preferably one on the verge of death, and it had to be born with both arms crippled and with the five senses severed.
However, even if Liao Wu possessed such an infant, he probably would not live more than a few days.
The old monk murmured, "If one body won't do, then two; if two won't do, then three."
The sun sank below the horizon, and the mountain wind was chilling to the bone.
Song Zongwu's pupils re-focused. He was only a bit over ten meters from the ground.
If not for the mountain wind constantly pouring into his mouth, he would not even have the strength to breathe.
Song Zongwu's vitality gradually faded, death intent surging in his heart. Even before hitting the ground, his body showed signs of collapse.
Black-red blood flowed from his facial orifices, and the aberrant things within his body began to revive.
Although Song Zongwu had not closed his six eyes, everything before him had already plunged into darkness, as if time had frozen at this moment.
He was half a meter from the ground.
"The two Restraint Officer techniques my master taught me, the Asura Technique requires both arms to be crippled, and the Truth-Listening Technique requires the complete loss of the five senses..."
"If there is a next life, I probably won't meet the conditions for cultivation anymore."
Song Zongwu bared his teeth in a grin.
He had no memory of his master teaching him the techniques, but the suffering he had endured was etched into his flesh and bones, forcibly supporting his failing heart as it beat slowly.
"So unwilling... being led by the Immovable Sutra, so unwilling..."
The wooden fish was struck heavily.
"Foolish child, why don't you wake up yet!!!"
Song Zongwu opened blood-red eyes, clenched teeth like a starving wolf.
To ensure clarity of consciousness, he directly bit off his tongue. Warm blood pooled in his mouth, the bloody taste proving that he was still alive.
"Either step by step live, or step by step die."
Song Zongwu extended his arm. At the instant his fingertips touched the ground-
Boom!!!
Endless strength burst forth vigorously from the depths of his heart. Two more arms grew again from beneath his armpits, and his six eyes turned pitch black.
Song Zongwu nimbly flipped and landed. The Hundred Buddha Diagram on his back was suppressed by the underworld, chains pulling the Buddha patterns into his flesh.
Yang Spirit realm achieved.
From this day onward, there was no longer the Four-Armed Yama, only the Six-Armed Asura.
"Only by enduring suffering does one not fall, this is the path of Asura."