Starting Immortal Cultivation from a White Dog

"Click, click..."

The main hall was the first to give way, its roof cracked and tiles fell like rain, followed by broken beams and pillars, and then it collapsed with a crash.

"Boom!"

The side hall on one side of the main hall collapsed, sending dust billowing into the sky.

"Crash-"

The windows of the library were all shattered, and the scriptures were scattered all over the floor.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Monastic quarters, pagodas, bell towers, and drum towers collapsed one after another. Bricks and stones flew everywhere, wooden beams broke, and cries and screams filled the air.

In just a few breaths, the ancient Longxiang Temple, with its thousand-year history, was already a scene of devastation, with ruins and broken walls, as if it had experienced an apocalyptic natural disaster.

Wu Tian withdrew his Dharma body, returned to his normal human size, and slowly landed on the ground. Stepping on the broken bluestone slabs, he walked to the Great Awakening Zen Master who was slumped on the ground.

His blue robe remained unchanged, spotless, as if the earth-shattering battle that had just taken place had nothing to do with him.

The Great Enlightenment Zen Master's lips trembled and his whole body shook.

He raised his head, looking at Wu Tian's calm face, then at the collapsed halls, the dead and wounded disciples, and the scattered ashes around him, tears streaming down his face. After a long silence, he finally spoke in a hoarse voice, like a broken bellows.

“Grand Commander Lu…we…know our mistake…we are willing to surrender…willing to obey orders…From now on…Longxiang Temple will follow the Lu family’s lead…Please…Please, Grand Commander, show mercy…spare…spare the lives of the remaining disciples of Longxiang Temple…”

With each word he spoke, it seemed as if he had used up all his strength. After he finished speaking, he was completely exhausted and collapsed to the ground.

Wu Tian shook his head, his voice calm and unwavering:

“People like you who are two-faced, cowardly, bullying, and hypocritical will only bring trouble to the Southern Frontier sooner or later. You may submit to me today, but if the Dragon Clan becomes powerful tomorrow, you will turn around and pledge allegiance to them. I don’t need such opportunists.”

The Great Enlightenment Zen Master's face was ashen.

But Wu Tian suddenly sneered, "However, considering that we are all human, I can let you go and get out of the Southern Frontier, but there is one condition."

He turned his head and looked at the Great Master Dawei, who was slumped on the ground and barely breathing, and said indifferently, "Make him kneel down and kowtow to admit his mistake."

Zen Master Dawei trembled violently, abruptly raising his head. His eyes were bloodshot, like those of a dying beast. He stared intently at Wu Tian and roared:

"You...what did you say?!"

Wu Tian remained calm, as if he were talking about a trivial matter.

"I said, I'm telling you to kneel down, kowtow, and admit your mistakes. For your rudeness at the Lu family banquet, for your fickle behavior at Longxiang Temple, and for your outrageous words today, admit your mistakes."

"Don't even think about it!" Master Dawei roared, his voice sharp and distorted with excitement. "I have cultivated for four hundred years and endured many tribulations to reach this point. Even if I die, I will never kneel and kowtow to a heretic like you."

"If you have the guts, then kill me!"

His eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on his forehead were bulging.

Wu Tian remained unperturbed, merely glancing at Zen Master Dajue in a calm tone.

"What do you think? Is the thousand-year-old heritage of Longxiang Temple more important, or your junior brother's reputation?"

The Great Master Dajue shuddered, feeling a chill rise from his back and rush to the top of his head, his face turning deathly pale.

He looked at the seemingly crazed Zen Master Dawei, then looked around—most of the surviving disciples were injured, some with severed arms, some bleeding. They were either slumped or kneeling, and at this moment they all raised their heads and looked at him expectantly.

In those eyes, there was fear, despair, and pleading...

He looked up again, looking at Bai Fengxian, Lady Zhurong, and Bai Youhuan in the air.

With three powerful immortals and the unfathomable Grand Commander Lu before them, annihilating the entire Longxiang Temple would be as easy as crushing ants.

Longxiang Temple, an ancient temple with a thousand-year history...

The Great Master closed his eyes, and two streams of turbid tears slid down his cheeks.

When she opened her eyes again, all she saw was a resolute look on her face.

He took a deep breath, slowly stood up, and staggered to the Great Master Dawei.

“Dawei…Junior Brother.”

Master Dawei was taken aback. Looking at his senior brother's hunched back, a sense of foreboding suddenly welled up in his heart.

The Great Master raised his head, tears streaming down his face, every wrinkle on his face etched with pain and struggle.

His lips trembled, and suddenly, with all his might, he shouted in a hoarse voice, loud as a bell, echoing throughout the entire dilapidated temple and reverberating in the valley: "I beg Abbot Dawei to kneel down and admit your mistake for the sake of Longxiang Temple's thousand-year heritage!"

This cry was shrill, sorrowful, and desperate, like the mournful cry of a cuckoo and the heart-wrenching lament of a gibbon.

The entire Longxiang Temple fell into a deathly silence in an instant.

All the surviving disciples were stunned.

They watched as the abbot, usually so imposing, bowed and pleaded before the Great Chief Abbot, his face streaked with tears, and heard his heart-wrenching cries…

After a brief moment of dead silence.

"Pfft!"

A middle-aged monk in charge was the first to kneel down and kowtow heavily in the direction of the Great Master Dawei. His forehead hit the gravel, blood flowed freely, and he cried out.

"I beg Abbot Dawei to kneel down and admit my mistake for the sake of Longxiang Temple's legacy!"

"I beg you, Abbot Dawei, kneel down and admit your mistake!" A young disciple, tears streaming down his face, prostrated himself on the ground. "The temple can be rebuilt, but if people die, everything is lost! Grandmaster, I beg you!"

"Great Master Dawei! Please just this once!" An old monk with a missing arm cried out, tears streaming down his face. "Our ancestor is dead, our three abbots are dead, do you really intend to watch the entire Longxiang Temple perish?!"

"Kneel down! Kneel down!"

"Please!"

One person took the lead, and the crowd followed. Cries, pleas, and kowtows blended into a cacophony, like a tidal wave crashing against the mind of Zen Master Dawei. More and more disciples knelt down, a dark mass of them, bowing and pleading in the direction of Zen Master Dawei.

As time passed, the shouts grew louder and louder.

"I beg Abbot Dawei to kneel down and admit my mistake for the sake of Longxiang Temple's legacy!"

"I beg Abbot Dawei to kneel down and admit my mistake for the sake of Longxiang Temple's legacy!"

Zen Master Dawei knelt on the ground, staring blankly at his fellow disciples kneeling all over the ground. He slowly turned his stiff neck and looked at Zen Master Dajue.

The Great Master Dajue avoided his gaze, lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly, and dared not meet his eyes.

He then slowly looked at the disciples around him.

Many people who met his gaze felt no remorse, but instead revealed resentment, anger, or even a hint of ferocity in their eyes.

"Ho... ho ho..."

The Great Master Dawei made a strange sound from his throat, a sound that was both crying and laughing.

Four hundred years of cultivation, four hundred years of brotherhood, four hundred years of gratitude to the sect… all seem so laughable, so fragile at this moment. There is no greater sorrow than a broken heart.

He suddenly threw his head back and burst into laughter, the sound as shrill as an owl's, echoing above the dilapidated temple.

"Hahaha……"

In the end, the laughter faded, and tears streamed down their faces.

The laughter stopped abruptly.

All the expressions on his face—anger, resentment, sorrow, pain—vanished, leaving only an empty, lifeless silence.

Then, under everyone's gaze, he shakily used his hands, which had several broken bones and were trembling incessantly, to support his body and, little by little, adjust his direction to face Wu Tian.

Every movement was incredibly slow and incredibly difficult.

Finally, his knees buckled.

"boom."

A dull sound.

They knelt heavily on the cold, cracked flagstones, the sound of their knees hitting the stone clearly reaching everyone's ears.

He bent down, pressing his forehead against the stone slab stained with dust and blood.

"This humble monk...Dawei...I know my mistake..."

His voice was hoarse and dry, as if squeezed from a broken bellows, each word laced with blood and foam:
"This humble monk... is cowardly and afraid of war... dares not confront the Dragon Clan... and was disrespectful to the Grand Commander... arrogant and domineering... bringing annihilation upon the Dragon Elephant Temple..."

With each word he spoke, his body trembled uncontrollably, as if he were using up all his strength.
"This is all...the fault of this humble monk alone...and has nothing to do with the other disciples of Longxiang Temple..."

"I beg the Grand Commander... to have mercy... to spare... the lives of the remaining members of the Longxiang Temple..."

After saying that, he lay motionless on the ground, his forehead pressed firmly against the earth, like a soulless shell, and fell silent.

Wu Tian watched quietly as the once arrogant and domineering abbot of Longxiang Temple knelt before him like a dead dog, surrounded by kneeling monks and collapsed halls.

After a long time, he slowly spoke.

"Longxiang Temple, withdraw from Southern Xinjiang within three days. From now on, as long as Lu is alive, Longxiang Temple will not be allowed to set foot in Southern Xinjiang even once."

Having said that, he stopped looking at anyone, turned around, and stood up.

Bai Fengxian, Lady Zhurong, and Bai Youhuan also followed suit.

The four transformed into streaks of light and soared into the sky, disappearing into the distant horizon in the blink of an eye, as if they had never existed.

All that remained was the devastated Longxiang Temple and thousands of monks who were utterly distraught and grief-stricken.

The mountain wind blew, stirring up ashes and dust from the ground, which drifted and swirled, mixed with the lingering smell of blood, permeating the ruins.

After a long while, low, suppressed sobs began to rise, like the mournful cries of a wounded wild animal, gradually merging into a continuous chorus.

Zen Master Dajue slowly rose and staggered to Zen Master Dawei, who was still prostrate on the ground. He looked at his junior brother's hunched back, opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he only sighed deeply and reached out to help him up.

But he stopped halfway through reaching out his hand.

Around them, many disciples had already struggled to their feet.

The way they looked at Zen Master Dawei was extremely complicated.

There was sympathy and pity, but more than anything, there was an unspeakable sense of alienation and... a lingering resentment.

If he hadn't been so arrogant at the Lu family banquet, and if he hadn't resolutely opposed cooperating with the Lu family afterward, Longxiang Temple might not have ended up like this.

The ancestors will not die, the three abbots will not die, the temple will not be destroyed, and they will not have to leave their homes and be driven out of the southern border like stray dogs.

This thought, like a venomous snake, grows in the hearts of many.

A young disciple whispered, "Abbot...do we...do we really have to leave Southern Xinjiang?"

The Great Awakening Zen Master closed his eyes, his voice hoarse: "Pass down the order... all disciples, evacuate from the Southern Frontier."

After saying that, he looked at the Great Master Dawei, who was still prostrate on the ground.

After a moment of silence, he sighed and said, "Junior Brother Dawei, you've suffered."

Several disciples stepped forward and carefully helped the limp Zen Master Dawei to his feet.

His body was limp, his head drooping weakly. He was supported by two disciples and dragged towards a meditation room that had not yet completely collapsed. Just as he was helped to the threshold, Zen Master Dawei suddenly coughed violently, making a "hoarse" sound in his throat, like a broken bellows pumping.

The two disciples quickly put him down and let him sit against the broken wall.

The Great Master slowly raised his head, his face ashen, his lips cracked, but his eyes refocused. Suddenly, he grinned, revealing bloodstained teeth, and chuckled softly, his laughter hoarse and unpleasant.

"Heh...cough cough...you really think...the Lu family has won?You really think that Lu Ding...can run rampant without restraint?"

The disciples around him were taken aback and stopped what they were doing, looking at him.

Master Dawei took a few breaths, and his voice gradually rose in pitch.

"What kind of existence is the East Sea Dragon Palace? It rules over the four seas, dominates the vast ocean, and has countless demon kings and soldiers under its command."

"That Third Prince Moang... is even more infamous, having been able to fight against True Immortals hundreds of years ago."

With each word he spoke, his breathing became more rapid, and a sickly flush rose to his face: "What is Lu Ding? A newly promoted Nascent Soul cultivator, relying on some fortuitous encounters and brute force, dares to presume to expel the Dragon Clan? He's utterly courting death! He's overestimating himself!"

The disciples around them looked at each other in bewilderment.

The Zen Master Dawei became more and more agitated as he spoke, struggling to stand up, but he slid back down weakly, only able to grab the broken stones on the ground with his hands, his fingernails digging into the cracks, making a harsh scraping sound.

"The Dragon Clan's occupation of Tonghai County is an inevitable trend. How dare the Lu family, a mere aristocratic family from the Southern Frontier, try to stop them? Today they can destroy the gates of my Longxiang Temple, but tomorrow when the Dragon Palace army is pressing in, we will make sure the entire Lu family is wiped out! Not a single chicken or dog will be spared!"

He practically roared out the last few words, veins bulging on his neck, eyes bloodshot, looking like a madman.

A young disciple with a broken arm and a pale face couldn't help but whisper in agreement, "Grandmaster is right. The dragon race is so powerful. No matter how strong the Lu family is, can they be stronger than the East Sea Dragon Palace?"

Another middle-aged monk, his face covered in soot, murmured in agreement: "Perhaps our withdrawal from the southern border today will actually help us avoid a catastrophe."

An old monk shook his head and sighed, but a hint of expectation lingered in his eyes. "I fear that by then, the Lu family will perish before the Dragon Clan retreats. Perhaps our retreat today... perhaps it's a good thing?"

"Hmph, Lu Ding is arrogant and domineering. He has humiliated our temple like this today. How can he last long?" A hot-tempered martial monk gritted his teeth. "In half a month, when the fighting starts, I think his entire Lu family will be reduced to ashes."

The hushed discussions gradually spread. Many disciples, who were originally immersed in the grief and humiliation of their sect being destroyed and forced into exile, were now unconsciously beginning to place their hopes on the idea that the Dragon Clan would surely take revenge on the Lu family, after being led astray by the words of Zen Master Dawei.

It was as if only by believing that the Lu family would suffer even more than Longxiang Temple in the future could their current humiliation and sacrifice seem less worthless.

The Great Awakening Zen Master stood not far away, listening to his junior brother's roar and the gradual echoes and discussions among his disciples, but remained silent.

In any case, after encountering a great calamity, the disciples should be allowed to vent their frustrations.

After the Great Master Dawei finished roaring, he took a deep breath, slowly walked up to the Great Master Dawei, and said in a deep voice, "Junior brother, you are seriously injured and exhausted. Do not say any more. Someone, help the Great Master Dawei back to his room to rest!"

His voice carried an undeniable authority, and his gaze swept over the discussing disciples, who immediately fell silent. (End of Chapter)