As chaos engulfed the Hall of Righteous Law, Meng Ying hurried towards its rear hall, carrying Yin Ya in his white fox form. They passed through numerous barriers, most of which dissipated at the fox’s glowing eyes.
Soon, they reached a floating island behind the hall, home to a massive nine-tiered stone tower slowly rotating in a mysterious pattern. Each revolution generated symbols that flew into a giant teleportation array below.
“This is… the Barrier Tower,” Meng Ying whispered, both fearful and excited. “It controls the opening and closing of all secret realms under the Hall’s jurisdiction—the most crucial part of the Hall of Righteous Law.”
The tower’s base was guarded by three terrifying late-stage Transformation realm beasts, each chained down.
“Is that… an ancient Feiyi?” Meng Ying gasped, recognizing one of the beasts.
Yin Ya jumped from her arms, his tails multiplying until he reached the late Nascent Soul stage. “Little sister, you’re quite daring. I’m a demon, you know. If I destroy this tower, most forbidden areas will weaken. Your human race will be finished,” he growled menacingly.
Meng Ying remained calm. “I’m not afraid.”
“Why? Don’t you fear death?” Yin Ya asked, puzzled.
“I do,” she replied, “but I’ve observed you all for a long time. The cultivation world has changed. The dead no longer reincarnate but become pawns of the Nine Prisons’ masters. If I die here, I’ll become a ghost in Mingquan River. You’re also a prison master, but not in this area. You wouldn’t massacre here and strengthen this prison.”
Yin Ya was speechless.
Meng Ying continued, “You fear ghosts, right? Do you know vengeful female ghosts are far more terrifying than male ones?”
The fox shook his head.
“If you kill me, I’ll haunt you. You wouldn’t want to see a bloody female ghost face every time you open a closet or lift a blanket, would you?”
Yin Ya recalled Buddha Baoqi Rulai’s words: the most terrifying thing is often not evil spirits, but the human heart.
“Sounds like fighting has started. You should hurry with your task,” Meng Ying urged.
As Yin Ya approached the tower, the three beasts awakened. The Feiyi’s roar forced Meng Ying to retreat to the island’s edge.
Strangely, the sound didn’t escape the island’s barrier. As Yin Ya neared, the eagle and leopard attacked. Unfazed, Yin Ya revealed a giant, amethyst fox eye behind him.
“Are you demons?” he asked, his voice hypnotic. “If so, kneel before royalty!”
The two Dhyana-stage beasts hesitated. Only the Feiyi remained defiant, speaking in the human tongue.
“The demon race has four Wanno banners with four totems: Nine-colored, Sumeru, Chongming, and Yanshen… You’re from the Yanshen line of the Celestial Fox clan, but that Sumeru Wanno banner is from Sumeru Yuangu. What are you here for?”
Surprised by the Feiyi’s intelligence, Yin Ya replied, “If you’re aware, you should know my intentions.”
The Feiyi stomped, electricity coursing through its chains. “We guard this Barrier Tower. Without the Emperor’s edict, releasing the demon-sealing array is impossible.”
“What if I have one?” Yin Ya challenged.
“Impossible!” Feiyi’s eyes flickered with hope, but it remained dutiful. “Even the Emperor needs years to learn its control. Unless the Council of Elders…”
Yin Ya revealed a blood-drawn talisman that induced dizziness. “I have the previous Emperor’s edict. As fellow demons, if you let me in, I’ll set you free. Deal?”
Meanwhile, in the front hall, a tremendous battle raged between black-white Dao seals and two-faced Guanyin statues.
“If not against the Dao, it’s commendable,” Ying Zewei remarked, his space-splitting technique turning fleeing cultivators into ink figures on a scroll.
“What… what technique is this?” onlookers gasped, realizing this was a clash of two different Daos.
Despite the overwhelming pressure, Nan Yan stood firm, sustained by her Buddhist cultivation. She raised her head and asked, “May I ask the master of the Dao who gives birth to Heaven, what is considered against the Dao?”
Ying Zewei replied calmly, “Going against Heaven’s will, disrupting the teachings of the hundred schools—that is against the Dao.”
Nan Yan asked again, “How can the Seven Buddhas’ cultivation, which eliminates evil and destroys wickedness, be called rebellious?”
“Holding the Buddha’s bones and maintaining a zen heart can keep one’s mind righteous. However, ordinary people struggle to suppress their seven emotions and six desires. Those who practice your way will inevitably become world-destroying demons.”
Nan Yan stared at him intently. “That’s why this path ends with me. I won’t pass it on to others. Looking back at the Way of Heaven’s origin, put yourself in my shoes. Are you a demon?”
She had never truly passed on her teachings. Or rather, what she imparted to others was the spirit of the Seven Buddhas’ cultivation, not the specific techniques. This only inspired cultivators to broaden their minds, rather than indulge in slaughtering evil spirits.
Seemingly realizing the truth in her words, Ying Zewei’s usually emotionless face briefly showed a hint of something unusual. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but it quickly transformed into a fleeting sneer.
“I’ve heard Buddhists excel at ferrying souls. Can your cultivated path ferry demons?”
“It can.”
“Can it ferry evil ghosts?”
“Yes.”
“What if there are endless ghosts?”
“The sea of suffering is boundless, but it’s all part of cultivation.”
“Good.”
Whether he admired her composed mindset or mocked her fearlessness, Ying Zewei suddenly made a brushstroke appear in the scroll-like sky above. In an instant, the sealed world transformed into a scene from the hell of Yama, with countless evil ghosts roaring and pouncing towards the two-faced Bodhisattva.
Truly endless ghosts…
Nan Yan sensed that his hostility wasn’t directed at her but at Ji Ming’s Seven Buddhas’ cultivation theory. He didn’t care about verbal provocation but was uniquely stirred by disputes over the Great Way.
Moreover, Ying Zewei’s true power far exceeded this… No, he wasn’t any hell lord himself. His ability to summon evil ghosts now meant this wasn’t his true form, but merely a manifestation of his divine consciousness.
“Thank you for the lesson,” Nan Yan said, clasping her hands lightly. As she was engulfed by a tide of ghostly wind, her serene eyes turned severe, and she spoke softly:
“To ferry the dead, I must first purify their souls. If purification fails, I’ll cleanse their sins. If that fails, I’ll destroy their evil form, obliterating their three hun and seven po souls. This is the great compassion of my Buddha’s cultivation.”
As she finished speaking, green leaves from the Bodhi tree, summoned by her Buddha bone zen heart, fell gently. The ferocious tide of ghosts immediately began emitting wisps of blue smoke. Those with lighter sins were purified and transcended as light, while those burdened with evil deeds disintegrated into ash.
“Ji Ming… what an impressive Seven Buddhas’ cultivation.”