High-end prehistoric world, suppressing ascendants at the start.

"You saw it?"

Chen Feng's voice rang out calmly, revealing no emotion.

"I saw it..."

The voice of the Great Celestial was somewhat hoarse.

"A border Arhat guarding the frontier has such a way of seeing through people's hearts, and can shake your faith at a glance."

Chen Feng glanced at him, his tone as cold as a block of ancient ice.

"And that Pudu, though not a core member of the Western Church, is still one of the most outstanding disciples among the three generations."

"He is a disciple of Maitreya, the future Buddha."

"You should think about it yourself. With your current meager skills, what makes you think you can seek justice?"

Chen Feng's words were like a bucket of ice water poured over someone's head.

The anger that had just been ignited in the heart of the Great Celestial Venerable because of the Arhat's words of "conversion" was completely extinguished.

All that remained was a bone-chilling cold and utter helplessness.

Yes, if even a marginal Arhat is like this, then how powerful must Pudu be?

Compared to him, I'm probably not even an ant.

Chen Feng ignored his distraught state.

He simply rode his blue ox, wandering aimlessly through the sea of ​​clouds, seemingly searching for something.

Finally, the blue ox stopped in what appeared to be an ordinary void.

"arrive."

Chen Feng said calmly.

The Great Celestial was taken aback. Looking around, all he could see was a vast expanse of clouds and nothing else.

Chen Feng offered no explanation.

He simply extended a finger and gently touched the void in front of him.

hum-

The space rippled like the surface of water.

A mysterious and inexplicable Dao pattern bloomed at his fingertips.

It silently merged into the void.

In an instant, the scene in front of me changed dramatically.

The clouds and mist dissipated.

A magnificent and radiant world, bathed in the light of Buddha, appeared clearly before the eyes of the Great Celestial Venerable, transcending the endless distance of time and space, like a mirage!

It is a sacred mountain that cannot be described in words.

Golden light shone in countless rays.

Auspicious clouds abound.

Temples and pavilions stand amidst the mountains.

The temple and the palace are connected.

Countless monks, bhikkhus, bodhisattvas, and arhats came and went there.

Reciting the true scriptures.

The sound of chanting was earth-shattering.

It transforms into a golden lotus visible to the naked eye, blooming and withering in the air.

On the western slope of that sacred mountain, a solitary cliff peeks out from the sea of ​​clouds.

Green pines and cypresses grow on the cliff.

A spiritual aura pervades the air.

A simple yet solemn temple is located here.

On the plaque at the entrance of the temple, three ancient seal characters, shimmering with Buddhist light, pierced deep into the eyes of the Great Celestial Venerable.

The Cliff of Relief!

Each of these three words was like an invisible giant hammer, carrying billions of tons of karmic force, crashing down on his Dao heart.

His world completely collapsed at that moment.

Only those three words remained, magnified infinitely in his soul, each word piercing his heart!

That's hardly a cliff of solace.

It was clearly an inescapable hell that imprisoned his master's soul, extinguished his will, and cut off his hope!

Chen Feng's finger remained poised in the air.

The mirror-like scene moved according to his thoughts.

It penetrated the invisible restrictions of the dojo.

We passed through the mountain gate.

We passed by several ancient Bodhi trees.

Finally, the image was fixed on a prayer mat in the center of the meditation hall.

A young monk sat upright on a prayer cushion.

The monk had a face like jade, with red lips and white teeth.

He was dressed in a moon-white monk's robe, with golden brocade patterns embroidered on the hem.

His appearance is solemn and dignified.

A single cinnabar mole between his brows exudes a compassionate and empathetic aura.

His eyes were slightly closed, as if he were meditating.

His whole body radiated a Buddha-like light, which was condensed and did not dissipate.

Faint Buddhist chants arose from the void, blending seamlessly with the rhythm of his breathing, creating a profound and mysterious effect.

It is indeed a salvation ceremony!

The pupils of the Great Celestial Venerable suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints.

The overwhelming hatred and murderous intent almost solidified, breaking through the shackles of the soul.

But he gritted his teeth and forcefully suppressed the rage that was enough to burn mountains and boil seas within his chest.

He knew that any slip of his emotions at that moment could have catastrophic consequences.

His gaze passed over Pudu and was fixed on a figure beside the monk.

It was a young Taoist boy who looked no more than thirteen or fourteen years old.

She has delicate features and a pretty face.

His expression, however, was numb and empty, like a meticulously crafted wooden puppet.

He was holding a cup of tea with both hands in an almost rigid and precise posture, slowly offering it to Pudu.

Every movement he made, from raising his hand to handing over the cup, contained a strange rhythm.

It was as if a ritual had been set up with supreme magical power, without the slightest deviation.

Soft circles of Buddhist light, like golden silk threads, enveloped the young Taoist priest.

It continuously seeped into his limbs and bones, and even into the very source of his soul.

A faint yet familiar aura emanated from him.

The source of that aura was none other than the "Undying Path of Heaven"!

However, this originally domineering and towering aura of the technique was now completely distorted and transformed by the Buddha's light, becoming gentle and peaceful.

It even carries a hint of Zen-like concepts of "conversion" and "submission".

That once unyielding and indomitable will has been completely worn down, transformed into the humility of serving others.

"Grandmaster..."

The Great Celestial Venerable let out a low, beast-like roar from his throat.

Two streams of scalding tears uncontrollably streamed down his face from his tiger-like eyes.

Her appearance has changed, but her charm is gone!

But deep within his soul, the most primal imprint, that unique spiritual fluctuation belonging only to Ling Xiaozhi, he would still recognize even if he turned to ashes!

That was his grandmaster.

He was the man who picked him up from the ruins, taught him with care, treated him like his own son, and sheltered him from the storm!

He is the guardian deity of the Sky-Supporting Plane, and the Lingxiao Heavenly Venerable revered by countless beings!

But now, he has become a tea-serving boy who has lost his own will and is at the mercy of others!

This is even more cruel than sending him to the eighteenth level of hell to suffer all kinds of torture!

This is a complete trampling and desecration of the dignity and path of a Celestial Venerable throughout his life, from the very root!

"ah--!"

Unable to contain himself any longer, the Giant Celestial Venerable let out a heart-wrenching roar.

His body was covered in bulging muscles and veins.

Clenched fists.

His fingernails dug deep into his palm, drawing blood, yet he was completely unaware.

He transformed into a streak of light, and like a madman, he charged headlong into the water mirror illusion!

He wanted to tear apart that false Buddhist light.

He's going to smash that damned dojo.

He wanted to tear that monk named Pudu to pieces and grind his bones to ashes!

However, the moment he took a step forward, the incredibly clear illusion shattered like a mirage, turning into specks of light and vanishing into nothingness.

Chen Feng had withdrawn his finger at some point.

She simply sat quietly on the ox's back, watching him with an indifferent expression.

"Thump!"

Having lost its target, the mighty Celestial Venerable had nowhere to vent its violent power. Its legs went weak, and it knelt down upright in the sea of ​​clouds.

He faced Chen Feng's direction, kowtowed heavily, and pressed his head to the ground.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

He remained silent.

He simply used the most primitive and resolute method, repeatedly banging his forehead against the void.

Each bow caused the clouds to churn and the void to tremble.

That desperate plea, that profound despair, is all contained within.