Two Realms High Martial Arts: Gathering the Heavens to Become a Great Luo Immortal

Chapter 433 Asking the Sword at Shaolin

Thoughts set in motion, and time and space begin to turn.

The mysterious "Great Luo Mark" shone brightly, drawing Li Xijun's consciousness and existence across indescribable dimensional barriers.

There was no earth-shattering fanfare, just like a drop of water merging into the ocean.

The next moment, Li Xijun appeared in a desolate mountain forest.

A familiar yet slightly faint spiritual energy of heaven and earth rushed towards me, the wind carried the scent of grass, trees and soil, and in the distance, the outlines of villages and towns were faintly visible—it was the world of martial arts.

However, the moment Li Xijun set foot on this land, his perception was completely different from when he returned to the main world.

He clearly "felt" that the entire world seemed to be enveloped and suppressed by an invisible yet resilient "membrane".

The spiritual energy began to subtly become active, and the rules began to emerge, but there was always a sense of stagnation, as if it was "unable to fully unfold" or "wanting to unleash its power but not yet."

The sky may seem vast and distant, but the net of laws is unusually "shallow" and "fragile," as if it would break with the slightest touch, releasing a mighty torrent that has been suppressed for countless years.

A heavy sense of oppression and pent-up energy, originating from the very source of the world, permeates every inch of space.

The rain is coming from the wind!

He could "hear" the groans of this world's rules under the old shackles and its yearning for a new era.

That ancient and powerful aura, hidden deep within the earth and the dust of history, was clearer than ever before, like a sleeping giant turning over in the abyss, not yet fully awake, yet already causing the earth to tremble.

"As expected—the day of the 'great change' is not far off."

Li Xijun looked up at the sky, his deep eyes reflecting the seemingly calm firmament. He understood, "In a few months at most, this constraint will completely collapse. At that time, spiritual energy will flow back, the rules will be reshaped, and all suppressed powers will be rapidly restored—those ancient beings that were sealed away, reincarnated, or barely surviving will truly take the stage."

This is both an opportunity and a crisis.

For Li Xijun, this means he must accomplish what he wants to do before the window closes!

"Time waits for no one." The sentimentality in his eyes was instantly replaced by a cold, sharp gaze.

The more he understood that the world was about to undergo a dramatic change, the stronger his sense of urgency became.

A fully-fledged Arhat who has been suppressed for decades or even centuries, has just regained his freedom, and has accumulated countless years of Buddhist cultivation, is far more powerful than he is in his current "half-crippled" state.

At that time, even with his status as a Martial Saint, killing the opponent would come at a great cost, and might even lead to unforeseen complications.

"We must do it now!"

Once the decision was made, there was no more hesitation.

Li Xijun didn't even bother to conceal his aura—he didn't need to hide too much before this world fully "awakened".

With a slight thought, the restrained "Original Darkness" holy power within his body naturally flowed, resonating slightly with the spatial laws of this world.

He stepped forward, taking a light step.

There was no use of any lightness skill or movement technique, nor was there any tearing of space to cause violent fluctuations. It was merely a slight disturbance at the level of laws and the "adaptation" of space itself.

"Whoosh!"

The scene before my eyes suddenly blurred, stretched, and then became clear again.

The barren mountains and dense forests have disappeared.

In its place are towering, continuous mountains, and the vast architectural complex of Shaolin Temple, hidden among the pines and cypresses, shrouded in mist, with faint chanting and the scent of incense that has been passed down for countless years!

The origin of all martial arts, the ancestral home of Zen Buddhism.

Its reputation and status far surpass those of ordinary sects.

Despite some setbacks in recent years, including the temporary closure of the temple gates, the ancient temple has not only regained its former glory but has even surpassed its former splendor as rumors of impending changes in the world and the presence of a Dharma-body Arhat have become increasingly popular.

Looking out, starting from the foot of Mount Song, a "Buddha Worship Avenue" paved with bluestone slabs, wide enough for eight horses to ride side by side, winds its way up to the majestic mountain gate halfway up the mountain.

Shops lined both sides of the avenue, their banners fluttering in the breeze. Some sold incense, candles, Buddhist scriptures, and consecrated ritual implements; others offered vegetarian meals, tea, and lodging; and still others provided elegant villas and mansions for dignitaries and wealthy families who had traveled from afar.

Carriages and horses moved like dragons, and people flowed like a woven tapestry. Noble ladies in brocade robes walked gracefully, supported by their maids; refined scholars commented on the mountain scenery; sturdy guards vigilantly scanned their surroundings; and countless commoners, their faces devout, either prostrated themselves with each step or held incense, forming a torrent of piety that surged toward the mountain gate.

Halfway up the mountain, the Shaolin Temple gate presents a magnificent sight.

The vermilion walls and golden tiles gleamed solemnly in the sunlight. The plaza in front of the gate was spacious enough to accommodate thousands of people. Smoke billowed from a huge bronze incense burner, and the aroma of sandalwood permeated the air for miles.

The monk in charge of receiving guests was dressed in fine clothes, with a kind yet dignified face, skillfully guiding worshippers of different backgrounds. Occasionally, martial artists dressed as江湖人士 (jianghu figures) would pass by, but they mostly concealed their sharpness and showed respect.

Inside the mountain gate, one can vaguely see layers upon layers of palaces and flying eaves. The melodious sound of bells and the deep, resonant chanting of scriptures add to the sacred and solemn atmosphere.

This is more than just a temple.

It is clearly a bustling mountain city formed by relying on an ancient temple with a history of thousands of years, integrating faith, commerce, martial arts, and the powerful!

Its grandeur, the number of believers, and the depth of its influence are enough to shock any newcomer and make them realize that "all martial arts under heaven originated from Shaolin" is no exaggeration.

In this bustling area, near the mountain gate archway, stands a rather elegant nine-story restaurant called "Jie Chan Ju".

Although located in a Buddhist holy site, this restaurant is renowned throughout the world for its vegetarian cuisine. The head chef is said to have once been a royal chef in the palace. After becoming a monk, he devoted himself to the study of vegetarian dishes and can make tofu taste like roast goose and mushrooms taste like abalone. His skills are unparalleled, attracting countless literati, scholars, and wandering heroes to come here to taste the food after their Buddhist pilgrimages. Leaving behind calligraphy and inscriptions has become a popular trend.

At this moment, several tables of martial arts practitioners were gathered in the elegant seats by the window on the second floor.

Most of them were travel-worn but had an impressive air about them, clearly having come from afar, both to pay homage to Buddha and to experience the unique atmosphere of Shaolin Temple during this time of impending change.

"Tsk, this vegetarian Buddha Jumps Over the Wall is indeed as good as its reputation. It's so delicious that I want to swallow my tongue. Shaolin is indeed a prestigious sect. Along the way, there are all sorts of conversations about famous martial arts events. It's really lively." A man with a leopard-like head and round eyes ate the imitation meat dish with great appetite, clicking his tongue in amazement.

"Brother Wang, you're too late. If you had come a few months earlier, you could have caught an even more exciting event," a swordsman dressed as a scholar said in a low voice, taking a sip of plain wine.

"Oh? What is it?"

"Naturally, it's that Star Lord," said Li Xijun. The news of his journey to the Vajra Temple that day shook the entire Shaolin Temple; the discussions were so loud they almost shattered the clouds above.

A hint of awe flashed in the scholar-swordsman's eyes. "The Vajra Temple, huh? It was a major sect in the Western Regions, gone just like that. I heard that the traitor, Blood Slaughter Li Tianxiong, slaughtered all the monks in the temple to prove his loyalty to the Star Lord, and then the Star Lord killed him with a single sword stroke—ha! A Grandmaster of the Ninth Heaven who had lived for hundreds of years, killed just like that!"

As the topic shifted to this point, the chatter at the nearby tables grew louder.

"Well done! That Blood Butcher was infamous and deserved to die long ago. The Vajra Temple was a den of iniquity in the Western Regions and was no good place either."

"That's not how it works,"

At another table, among several men who had clearly just come down from the mountain and were dressed in the robes of Shaolin lay disciples, one of them sneered, "Even if the Vajra Temple has its faults, it is still part of the Buddhist lineage. No matter how wicked that Blood Butcher is, if Li Xijun hadn't coerced and tempted him, would he have committed such an outrageous act as murdering his master and wiping out his entire family?"

"In my opinion, Li Xijun, though seemingly acting on behalf of Heaven, is actually vicious and cunning. He used others to do his dirty work, wiping out the entire Jingang Temple without getting his hands dirty! Such methods are chilling!"

"Exactly!" A young Shaolin disciple nearby exclaimed indignantly. "The high-ranking monks in the Ancestral Hall on the back mountain of our sect have all revealed that Li Xijun is a 'disaster star,' a source of calamity. Wherever he goes, war will break out, bringing bloodshed and carnage."

"Now that the Great Xia Dynasty has appointed him as the Crown Prince, if he ascends the throne, it will surely be a calamity for the people!"

The other martial arts heroes in the restaurant looked unconvinced upon hearing this, but since the place was right at the foot of Shaolin Temple and the other party was a Shaolin disciple, they could not openly refute him.

Someone muttered under their breath, "Such high-sounding words! Your Shaolin Dharma Body is so powerful, why didn't you just take action and eliminate this source of trouble back then? Wasn't it the Daoist Master and that person from the Sword Sect who stopped you?"

"Those monks from the Vajra Temple usually occupy 100,000 mu of fertile land in places like the Western Regions. They oppress the good people and often beat and kill tenants. Why don't you Shaolin go and clean up their own house?" Another voice was even lower.

"Shh--keep it down."

However, those Shaolin disciples were quite skilled and had sharp ears and eyes. They vaguely heard a few words and their expressions immediately changed.

One of the younger disciples slammed his fist on the table and roared, "What do you know! The Dharma Body Ancestor's actions have profound meanings; how can you presume to understand them? That Li Xijun is just relying on a bit of luck and the protection of others."

"If it weren't for the intervention of Master Ye of the Sword Sect, he would have long been executed by the Buddhist teachings of Shaolin. As for his fellow disciples of the Vajra Temple—even if they were at fault, it's not his place as an outsider to judge them!"

The older senior brother pulled him back, but his face also showed arrogance and a hint of anger. He glanced around and said in a deep voice, "No matter what, with the Dharma Body Arhat presiding over us, Shaolin is a top sect in the world, with a foundation that will last for thousands of years."

"Whether it's the imperial court or the star lord, as long as our patriarch is alive, no one can shake the foundation of Shaolin."

"If Li Xijun has the guts, then come to the foot of Shaolin Mountain and speak to the Dharma Body Patriarch!"

These words, imbued with the confidence of Shaolin's thousand-year-old tradition and the awe-inspiring presence of its Dharma Body, immediately quieted the restaurant down considerably.

Many martial arts practitioners, though dissatisfied, had no way to refute the argument.

The Dharma Body is ultimately the "heaven" hanging over the heads of all martial arts practitioners.

Just as the atmosphere became slightly oppressive and frozen, suddenly, an indescribable sense of stagnation, like invisible ice water, quietly spread across the bustling market at the foot of the mountain, across the restaurants, and across the hearts of all the pedestrians on the Buddhist pilgrimage road.

The bustling sounds of people, the hawkers' cries, the melodious tolling of bells, and even the sound of the wind in the mountains—all seemed to be instantly wiped away and sucked away by an invisible hand.

The light seemed to dim at this moment, not because of dark clouds, but because the color saturation was strangely reduced, and everything was covered with a faint gray filter.

Everyone instinctively stopped moving. A profound terror and silence, stemming from their very life force and the presence of a higher being, gripped their hearts without warning.

Inside the restaurant, the young Shaolin disciple who had slammed his fist on the table froze in anger, his pupils suddenly contracting.

The older senior brother, who had been holding his hand, suddenly trembled and looked out the window in horror.

All the heroes of the martial arts world, regardless of what they had been discussing, seemed to be frozen in place, their backs instantly soaked with cold sweat.

Tap—tap—tap—

Extremely faint, yet crystal clear, footsteps, as if striking directly at the soul, came from the end of the Buddhist pilgrimage path.

The crowd mechanically and laboriously turned their necks to look at the source of the sound.

At the end of the long street, on the bluestone pavement.

A figure is slowly walking towards them.

He was dressed in simple black clothes, with an upright posture, a young and calm face, and even a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

It lacked overwhelming momentum and outward-radiating pressure.

But with each step he took, the light within a radius of ten feet around him dimmed a little, and the sound faded a little, as if even "existence" itself was collapsing and falling silent towards him.

He was like a walking "source of silence," a moving "point of return to nothingness," leaving behind only desolation and deathly silence wherever he went.

He walked slowly, but in just a few steps, he arrived at the foot of the "Jiechanju" restaurant at the end of the long street, and in front of the magnificent Shaolin Temple gate square.

Countless gazes, filled with fear, bewilderment, and awe, were focused on him.

Someone recognized the face from the portrait of the "Star Lord," and made a "hoarse" sound in his throat, but could not utter a complete syllable.

Li Xijun stopped in his tracks.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze calmly sweeping over the gilded "Shaolin Temple" plaque, over the stiff, statue-like monks and pilgrims in the square, and finally, as if penetrating through layers of halls and rocks, landing on the place behind the mountain where the Buddha's light was strongest and the seal was tightest.

Then he spoke.

The sound was soft and peaceful, yet like a cold, imposing law, ignoring all obstacles and clearly echoing in every corner of the seventy-two peaks of Mount Song, resounding in every Buddhist hall, every meditation room, and every hermitage. It was like a thunderclap, directly striking the depths of the consciousness of the silent Dharma body in the forbidden area of ​​the back mountain: "Shaolin Dharma Body."

"I, Li, have come today to return that remote magic seal I created back then."

"By the way, I'll take your Dharma body relics for a use."

"Get out here!"

"boom!!!"

It was not a physical explosion, but a shock to the rules and the mind!

With Li Xijun's footsteps as the origin, an invisible and intangible ripple of law, containing the ultimate meaning of "Original Darkness," suddenly spread out!

Before the mountain gate, a huge bronze incense burner, its billowing smoke instantly extinguished, seemed to freeze the aroma of sandalwood. The surface of the burner was dull, revealing traces of time's erosion.

In the square, all the pilgrims, monks, and vendors collapsed to the ground like wheat fields blown down by an invisible gale.

Inside the "Jiechanju" restaurant, whether in the lobby on the first floor or the private rooms on the third floor, all the diners, waiters, and managers, including those few Shaolin disciples who had just been discussing arrogantly, collapsed silently, leaving behind a mess of cups and plates.

At this moment, everyone, regardless of their status, stared in shock and disbelief at this scene that was destined to shake the world.

In an instant, the entire mountain gate area, and even most of the market at the foot of the mountain, fell into an absolute stillness where everything was silent and life was suppressed. Even birds froze and fell to the ground, and insects lay dormant.

Only the figure in black robes stood with his hands behind his back in the center of the desolate square, like a god descending to deliver a silent judgment.