The Word of Heaven

Chapter 351 The Shattered Morning and Evening Bell
"The Dao Lord's real name is Bai Yuan?!"

Lin Qianshui opened her eyes wide, her voice trembling, and looked at Yu Sheng's profile in disbelief.

In that instant, she felt a strong sense of powerlessness and absurdity, and an inexplicable chill enveloped her body, all of which ultimately transformed into a mocking smile.

She said, "So, all the life and death of tens of thousands of people over the past century has ultimately come down to your family's affairs?"

This is a powerful inference.

It is common knowledge that the surname Bai is rarely seen.

The imperial family of the Qin Dynasty had the surname Bai.

Starting from this point, tracing back more than three thousand years to the founding of the Qin Dynasty, all the members of the Bai family who left their illustrious names in history books came from the same Bai family.

The Daoist Master should be the same.

In this moment of quiet, a complete story outline had emerged in Lin Qianshui's mind.

That story actually happened.

There was a boy who lost both his parents and lived a quiet life in a corner of the bustling city. He was prepared to spend his life in solitude and peace, but he was persecuted because he was born into the imperial family and eventually wandered the world.

He later gave himself a new name and sat atop the clouds, but instead of reclaiming what rightfully belonged to him, he chose destruction.

This may be the truth behind everything that happened back then!

However, Yu Sheng did not nod.

“No… but you could call him that.” She paused, then said, “After all, he’s my husband.”

Lin Qianshui was stunned, and subconsciously asked, "What do you mean?"

Yu Sheng said calmly, "Back then, I also imagined him the way you do now."

"And then?" Lin Qianshui asked urgently.

"No."

Yu Sheng said softly, "That was his answer. At that time, he looked completely bewildered and asked me, 'Are only your family allowed to have the surname Bai?'"

Lin Qianshui didn't know what to say.

Yu Sheng recalled the scene, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes, and said, "I told him no, and he was in a good mood after hearing that, so he explained to me why his surname is Bai."

Lin Qianshui asked, "Is this the name he gave himself?"

Yu Sheng responded with a nasal "hmm".

"Bai means being penniless and blank, and Yuan... is because he has a hometown he can never return to."

She said calmly, "That's the whole meaning of the name Bai Yuan."

There were some things Yu Sheng didn't say, because he felt it was inappropriate to share them with others.

Back then, Gu Zhuo and she were arguing about seniority, debating whether they should be siblings or brothers, and deliberately avoiding each other's names to discuss whether this would be considered incest. In the end, the young man sighed in a pretentious manner, feeling a little smug that he would no longer have to argue about his children's surnames.

She thought she had forgotten all these things, but when she recalled them again many years later, they were still so vivid, as if they were right in front of her.

Lin Qianshui looked at her and asked seriously, "If things are that simple, then why did the name Bai Yuan disappear from the world afterward?"

Whether it's historical records or Daoist scriptures.

People only know of the Daoist Master, but not of Bai Yuan, and keep it a closely guarded secret.

Yu Sheng did not answer the question.

……

……

The primordial energy of heaven and earth changes in an instant, like the deep sea under a storm, with countless giant waves rising and falling.

In that non-real world of spirits, where the dawn and dusk bells served as the point of intersection, Gu Zhuo and the White Emperor gazed at each other silently.

Their eyes were not indifferent, and their voices were as calm as water as they began the conversation.

"Actually, I was quite surprised at first. I couldn't understand how so many people in this world would be willing to give their lives for you, given your terrible temperament. But I gradually came to understand."

"A very boring sentence."

"Your encounter with this world is still shallow, so the memories you leave for others are the best. It is the beam of moonlight you see when you look back at your hometown with reluctance in your youth, the warm sun that falls on your eyelids when you wake up from a spring nap, the blood of your heart, and the things you can't have."

"That statement is even more boring."

"What in this world isn't boring to you?"

"Alive."

"I'm sorry, but there are only two words I cannot grant your request."

Why say such hypocritical things?

"As long as I can kill you, as long as I can shake your Dao heart in the slightest, hypocrisy and sincerity are irrelevant. Otherwise, why would I call you by your former name?"

"This sentence finally makes some sense."

Gu Zhuo objectively stated: "Finally, it's not boring."

The White Emperor said, "Is that so?"

Gu Zhuo did not answer, but had an idea.

The bells suddenly rang out.

If a ripple is stirred in a pool of spring water, this pale world constructed by the soul will be plunged into violent turmoil.

The White Emperor had an idea.

In the real world, he took another step forward, his palm imprinting itself even more deeply on the Morning and Evening Bell, creating countless visible cracks on this Daoist treasure, resembling the Heavenly Dao Seal from the Weiyang Palace Incident.

Gu Zhuo's figure suddenly became illusory, like a bubble.

The difference in quality is immediately apparent.

The difference in their cultivation levels was too great. Even with a celestial artifact like the Dawn and Dusk Bell as a support, they were ultimately no match for each other.

Moreover, the White Emperor never fought alone.

Gu Zhuo's soul was even more ethereal.

More than ten bright rays of light suddenly burst forth from his cracked body.

The White Emperor coughed, and more than a dozen shallow wrinkles appeared on his face, which were made even deeper by the unseen wind.

Those are all traces of the passage of time.

Just then, a golden light appeared out of nowhere and descended upon this place.

Gu Zhuo raised an eyebrow slightly. That was Buddha's light.

The voice of the Immaculate Monk reached his ears.

"Stop talking nonsense. I know what I'm doing, and don't try to persuade me. I'm not doing this for you."

Looking at Gu Zhuo under the Buddha's light, the White Emperor couldn't help but laugh and asked, "Then why are you doing this?"

The monk Wugou gave a very clear answer to this.

"So that you ignore me."

The young monk said earnestly, "This is a matter of respect."

……

……

At this critical moment of life and death, at this pivotal moment when the future of humanity is about to reach a watershed, this sudden display of respect seems somewhat absurd and completely out of place.

The White Emperor did not think that way, nor did he laugh.

He simply stated a fact calmly and ruthlessly.

"Then you should die too."

As soon as the words were spoken, the Buddha's light vanished.

The Immaculate Monk in Cihang Temple was bleeding from all seven orifices, and the Buddha's body was covered with cracks, like a Buddha statue in a desolate mountain temple, from which blood kept flowing.

In the blink of an eye, his monk's robe was soaked in blood, turning it the deepest red.

The old abbot had long since fallen silent.

Those seemingly cloudy eyes saw everything perfectly clearly.

He had said everything he needed to say, but things were still not going as he had hoped. What else could he do?

Perhaps Buddha never intended to return to the world?
Otherwise, how could things have turned out the way they are tonight?
A sigh rang out.

The old abbot turned away, unwilling to look any longer, and prepared to leave.

Just as he had walked several dozen steps away and his figure was about to blend into the inky night, the Buddha's light suddenly shone brightly.

Reaching the heavens and penetrating the earth.

The entire Cihang Temple seemed to be bathed in thousands of lights!

The old abbot turned around in astonishment and saw the blood-stained monk's robe fluttering in the wind.

The little monk, bathed in golden light, slowly floated up.

An aura emanated from his body, spreading like a tide to every corner of this world, reaching everywhere and penetrating every nook and cranny.

This is something only the grand formation at the Cihang Temple gate can accomplish.

The grand formation at the mountain gate originated from the Buddha.

This is precisely the wisp of Zen wisdom left behind by the Buddha!
What exactly is going on?

……

……

The Buddha's light emanating from Cihang Temple carried the deepest warmth of humankind.

Gu Zhuo and the White Emperor exchanged glances.

Without hesitation, he reached out and grasped a phantom sword amidst the boundless Buddha light.

A sword pierced through the air and flew away.

It pointed directly at the White Emperor's chest.

This is a world of spirits and souls, where everything is both ever-changing and utterly simple.

wipe!
The White Emperor had a new wound on his chest.

Extremely bright red blood dripped from it.

This was the first time he had been wounded since the start of the war.

However, his eyes showed no trace of the anger one would expect from someone who was injured.

On the contrary, a strange joy, even contentment, shone in those eyes.

The next moment, the White Emperor in the real world moved forward again.

A mournful cry.

The morning and evening bells, unable to bear the weight, began to crumble.

Starting from the spot where the White Emperor's palm imprinted, as if mountains were collapsing, the ancient patterns engraved on the bell became ethereal and indistinct.

Like an avalanche, the collapse of the morning and evening clock is happening faster and faster, following the cracks that existed before.

Only then did a thunderous roar resound between heaven and earth.

As everything suddenly fell silent, the morning and evening bells shattered into thousands of fragments, hanging precariously before the White Emperor.

The moment the bell shattered, everyone living in this world heard a bell tolling from a distant place, carrying the unique twilight atmosphere of dusk, narrating a final farewell.

Those within the Taoist community, regardless of their level of spiritual attainment, felt a chill run down their spines.

The White Emperor watched this scene quietly.

That world, built upon divine souls, has crumbled along with the destruction of the dawn and dusk bells.

This appears to be an undisputed victory.

Until a shower of blood blossoms bloomed on the White Emperor's chest.

His body began to sway, and the wrinkles that had appeared in the world of his soul irrevocably appeared on his face in the real world, making him look decades older in an instant.

But he did not fall to the ground.

The White Emperor closed his eyes, stood with his hands behind his back, and began to wait.

They await the unfinished battle between the founder of the Heavenly Dao Sect and their juniors.

Upon thinking of this, a mocking smile appeared on his lips.

"The disciple is determined to betray his master and destroy his ancestors, while the ancestor happens to wish every disciple would die. How interesting."

(End of this chapter)