The Venerable Master Liaoyin fought a bitter battle against the Western Holy Mother and, exhausted, passed into final nirvana. At that moment, his form remained solemn and dignified. Across the square, all the martial heroes—whether righteous or wicked—stood in reverent silence. Witnessing his self-sacrifice for the Way, none could withhold their respect.
The monks of Shaolin pressed their palms together and began to chant:"Namo Amitābhāya. Tathāgatāya. Tadyathā. Amṛte. Amṛtodbhave. Amṛtasiddhe. Amṛtavikrānte…"Their voices rang like great bells, reverberating across the square. The sacred sound drifted through the pines, as if heaven and earth themselves had fallen still. Performing the rites for the departed, they recited the Rebirth Mantra, dedicating its merit to guide Master Liaoyin on the final leg of his journey—granting him peace and freedom as he entered the Pure Land.
At this moment, the once-noisy square grew so silent it seemed one could hear pine needles fall. Among the assembled heroes, distinctions between friend and foe dissolved. Even the hardened killers of the Righteous Alliance bowed their heads in quiet prayer. Master Liaoyin had given his life for the Buddhist path; no one dared show the slightest disrespect.
Meanwhile, Chen Jinfeng suddenly came to a realization. Her mind cleared, and she understood that she had merely been a pawn in Liaoyin's greater design. By sacrificing himself, he had achieved enlightenment before the eyes of all. In this awkward moment, she spoke:
"The Western Sacred Sect is no heretical evil. The passing of Master Liaoyin fills us with regret. Let all grudges end here today."
With a sharp command—"Let us go!"—she swept her sleeve, her face pale with tension, and led her followers down the mountain.
Though defeated and slain in battle against evil, Master Liaoyin had attained Buddhahood through his sacrifice. The Shaolin monks felt both grief and joy—grief for his death, joy that he had fulfilled his vow and realized the Way. Having died in righteousness, he had, in truth, achieved his deepest aspiration.
A gentle breeze stirred, brushing the monks' robes and lifting the hem of Liaoyin's garments. His face was serene, bearing a faint smile, seated upright in the posture of nirvana, like the Buddha himself. Seeing this, the monks knelt and chanted softly:
"May this merit adorn the Pure Land."
From afar, the faint echo of a bell seemed to resound through the mountains, as if heaven itself were bidding him farewell.
His life had merged into the profound mystery of the Dharma, flowing into the endless stream of time. No longer bound to the mortal world, he had attained fruition and now dwelt among the Buddhas.
It was said:
A noble monk, revered by all,Calmly he faced death without fear.In righteousness, he gave his life before others,And attained Bodhi, welcomed by the Buddhas.
His sacrifice moved all present. Those who had known him could not help but sigh in sorrow. As the Avataṃsaka Sūtra teaches: "Faith is the source of the Way, the mother of all virtues." And Confucius said: "If one hears the Way in the morning, one may die in the evening without regret." For a man of the Dharma, to attain enlightenment is to transcend death itself.
The Martial Demon, seeing the man he once hated now die for righteousness, felt his hatred dissolve. He sighed deeply:
"Master Liaoyin devoted his life to the Buddha. Today he has truly seen the Tathāgata face to face. What more could one ask of life?"
He recalled how he had once mocked Liaoyin's devotion. Now, hearing again the monk's past words urging him to renounce violence and seek redemption, he was struck with the impermanence of all things. With a long sigh, he turned and declared:
"Brothers of the Righteous Alliance, it is time to leave."
With a gesture, his followers departed swiftly.
Life is fleeting, time leaves no trace. At such a moment, even the greatest heroes could not hold back their tears. Tan Wei leaned against Li Jian's chest, quietly sobbing. As the crowd dispersed from the mountain slope, the Shaolin monks carefully gathered Liaoyin's remains.
Though filled with sorrow, they knew his sacrifice was a supreme act of merit. Ben Guang, the chief monk, sighed:
"My uncle devoted his life to the Dharma. Today, he has died for it. This is the glory of Shaolin."
Meanwhile, the leaders of the Jingjiao, Manichaean, and Zoroastrian sects stepped forward to express their respect to Li Jian. Aruos the Great Dharma King of Jingjiao placed a hand on his shoulder:
"Master Li, today's battle has made your name known throughout the land. The martial world stands on the brink of chaos. Wu Tong placed great hopes in you—act with righteousness, and bring peace to the people."
Li Jian bowed solemnly. "I will do my utmost."
Li Rui of the Manichaean sect added gravely:
"Great turmoil is coming. Only one of extraordinary destiny can save the martial world. That person… may well be you. Be vigilant—treachery lurks everywhere."
Hearing this, Li Jian felt a heavy weight settle upon his shoulders. He understood that the path ahead would be fraught with danger—and that the fate of the martial world might one day rest in his hands.