The head master has a new female apprentice

Chapter 501 The Primordial Monk and Suffering (Third Update)
The terrifying crimson energy swept through the entire sea of ​​consciousness like a volcanic eruption.
The golden inscriptions exploded in the torrent of energy, transforming into countless sharp blades of light that tore apart the surrounding black energy and fragments of consciousness.

The temperature at the center of the energy storm soared to its extreme, scorching and distorting even space itself, emitting a cracking "sizzle".

The black Buddha's three heads and six arms shattered inch by inch in the energy storm, and the demonic artifact instantly turned to ashes. It was completely swallowed up before it could even let out a wail.

As the energy storm slowly dissipated, the primordial spirit of the afflicted was in a pitiful state.

The once solid, illusory image of consciousness became completely transparent, its left arm and right leg vanished, and the black aura around its body almost completely dissipated.

Only a few wisps of his soul remained, barely holding on, as if a gust of wind could blow him away.

He struggled to lift his head, his gaze piercing through his sea of ​​consciousness, as if he could see Zhou Qing outside.

His eyes were filled with overwhelming anger and resentment, yet he couldn't utter a single complete sentence.

Just then, a gentle voice suddenly rang out behind Ku'e, accompanied by a dazzling Buddhist light: "Abbot, your disciple bids you farewell!"

A chill ran through him; he wanted to turn back, but it was too late.

The illusory image of Guicang's consciousness had appeared behind him at some point, and behind him emerged a golden Buddha image about ten feet tall.

The Buddha's hands were in a mudra, his compassionate gaze carrying a hint of resolve.

Before the suffering could react, the golden Buddha suddenly slapped out two enormous palms.

Like two golden mountains, carrying the power to purify all evil, they slammed down on the suffering soul.

With a loud "bang!", the already damaged and broken Yuan Shen was instantly smashed to pieces.

It turned into countless black fragments, floating in the sea of ​​consciousness, and no longer had any power to resist.

Immediately afterwards, Guicang sat cross-legged, with the golden Buddha behind him emitting a soft Buddhist light, and the sound of chanting echoed within his sea of ​​consciousness.

The Buddha's light transformed into golden ripples, firmly enveloping the black fragments.

Under the baptism of the chanting, the black fragments began to dissipate little by little.

With each dissipation, the demonic energy within the sea of ​​consciousness decreased, gradually restoring its pure golden hue.

Seeing that Ku'e's body had stopped struggling and the black aura had begun to dissipate, Zhou Qing knew that Guicang had succeeded, and the huge weight that had been hanging in his heart finally lifted.

He let out a long sigh and slowly put away the "Demon Suppression Seal" and the "Heaven Sealing Seal".

The spiritual energy around him slowly receded, and although his face was still pale, a relieved smile appeared on his face.

He turned to look at his second uncle, whose face was full of worry, and said with a hint of relief, "I have fulfilled my mission and it is finally over!"

The second uncle looked at his pale face, then at Guicang on the ground whose breathing was gradually stabilizing, and shook his head helplessly.

"You little brat, you're really courting death! Using two inscribed-level divine abilities at the same time, if something goes wrong, you won't even have a chance to regret it!"

Although he was blaming her, his tone was full of concern.

Zhou Qing gave an awkward smile, then got up and rearranged the Four-Colored Spirit Gathering Array with Gui Cang as the center...

……

Meanwhile, deep within the forbidden area of ​​Jiyuan Temple, an old man who looked almost like a dried corpse slowly opened his eyes.

He wore a tattered abbot's robe, his emaciated body resembling a dehydrated tree, his skin clinging tightly to his bones, revealing his distinct joints.

Only the string of Buddhist prayer beads around his neck, each bead round and full, radiating a faint Buddhist light, stood in stark contrast to his appearance.

However, the color of the prayer beads had darkened, and some of them were even covered with cracks, clearly on the verge of breaking.

The old man's gaze was vacant, yet it seemed to pierce through space and see into the distance.

He muttered hoarsely to himself, "The first clone... is actually... dead?"

After a moment of silence, he sighed deeply, his voice filled with weariness and despair: "It seems that this path is ultimately a dead end; it was all wishful thinking on my part."

"All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows, dew, and lightning; thus should they be viewed. The force of clinging to them will ultimately lead to nothing but illusions and fleeting beauty..." After saying this, he slowly turned his head to look at the scene before him.

It was a bottomless abyss, and on the stone walls surrounding the abyss, there were thirty-five towers of obsession similar to the ones before.

Each tower was trembling slightly, and mournful roars emanated from within.

Wisps of black energy emanated from the tower, slithering into the abyss like snakes, as if feeding something.

At the bottom of the abyss, amidst swirling mist, a massive, blood-red camel, its skin peeled off, could be vaguely seen floating within.

The camel's body was as large as a mountain, and its exposed flesh was covered with black runes.

Each breath caused violent fluctuations in the abyss's energy, emanating a terrifying pressure that made one's heart tremble.

The old man watched all this, his withered fingers trembling as he reached into his abdomen and pulled out a yellowed scroll.

The scroll was covered with ancient inscriptions, exuding an eerie aura.

A glint of madness flashed in his eyes as he gritted his teeth and said, "This is the only way left. Don't blame me; I just want to live a little longer."

……

Meanwhile, at Wuxiang Temple, which is as famous as Jiyuan Temple, a completely different scene unfolds.

The entire temple is built against the mountain, with moss covering the blue bricks and gray tiles, and the air is filled with a strong Buddhist atmosphere.

Golden Buddha statues stand in the courtyard, their expressions compassionate, as if looking down upon all living beings.

The sound of chanting emanated from the meditation room, mingling with the birdsong and flowing water of the mountains, creating a peaceful and tranquil atmosphere.

At this moment, a novice monk who looked only twelve or thirteen years old was sweeping the courtyard.

He was wearing a gray monk's robe, and although he was not tall, he moved very quickly, sweeping the fallen leaves on the ground into a bamboo basket.

But at a certain moment, a sense of age that was inconsistent with his age suddenly flashed in the novice monk's eyes, as if he had experienced a thousand years of vicissitudes.

He stopped sweeping, looked up in the direction of the third tail, and frowned slightly.

He then slowly relaxed, scratched his head with a wry smile, and continued sweeping up the fallen leaves.

Only a faint murmur escaped his lips, so subtle that it was almost imperceptible unless one listened carefully.

"In the end, it just won't work... Now, only the original body and my second avatar are left. I don't know if we can survive this ordeal and live a second life..."

After saying that, he shook his head, banishing the distracting thoughts from his mind, and started sweeping again.

But a short while later, a pair of black cloud-patterned boots suddenly appeared in front of him.

The boots are embroidered with dark gold roc patterns that gleam coldly in the sunlight.

The novice monk paused, his hand holding the broom still, and slowly raised his head.

The newcomer was a handsome middle-aged man, dressed in a brocade robe with purple and gold trim, the hem of which was adorned with tiny star patterns that swayed gently with his breath.

He was tall and straight, with a handsome face that had a sharp edge. His brows were high, his eyes were slanted upwards, and his golden-brown eyes were like those of a hawk.

The most peculiar thing was that he wore a roc-shaped hair ornament made of pure gold, with golden flames seemingly dancing on it.

"You've come." The novice monk spoke first, his voice still clear and bright like a young boy's, but without the previous naivety, replaced by a more mature and composed demeanor.

Master Taichu looked down at him, a playful smile playing on his lips, his tone slightly teasing: "Why are you getting more and more regressive as you get older?"

"Back when you were preaching at Jiyuan Temple, you were so full of vigor and spirit. Now look at you, hiding here sweeping fallen leaves."

"What, are you planning to secretly turn Wuxiang Temple into your territory as well?"

(End of this chapter)