Journey to the West: Starting with becoming an apprentice of the Nine Heavens Demon-Subduing Patriar

No wonder.

Lu Shanjun nodded after hearing this, then turned and walked to the front of the dilapidated temple.

After entering the temple, stand with your head bowed in front of the clay statue of the deity, looking down at it.

At each of the four corners of the altar stood a three-inch-long, jet-black wooden stake, its tip sharpened to a fine point, emitting a faint Buddhist glow, and firmly nailed in place.

Beneath the temple grounds, a "divine root" that should have been intertwined and connected to the earth's veins was severed at the root. The broken end was charred black, and a wisp of the six-syllable Sanskrit chant remained.

Demon-subduing stake, spirit-locking stake.

What a ruthless means.

After these four stakes are driven in, it's as if the earth's spiritual energy in this area has been completely severed. Without the divine root, the local earth god becomes a tree without roots.

Let alone earth-遁 (earth-遁 is a technique used in traditional Chinese magic), even condensing a phantom image would require years of incense offerings.

Hui Deng took it as easily as taking something out of a bag; the root of the problem lies here.

"Go," Lu Shanjun murmured.

He extended a finger, and a drop of sky-blue water condensed at the tip, spinning around on his fingertip.

"The most taboo evil method in Buddhism that involves capturing the spirit and locking the soul is my own."

A flick of the fingertip.

"Pop".

A tiny, azure fish, no bigger than a bean, swam out of the water droplet, its tail fin trailing a line of lightning, and circled the first wooden stake.

"Sizzle."

The bluish-white lightning climbed up the Buddha's light on the stake, like a flood rushing into silt. The layer of faint Buddha's light immediately dissipated, and the wooden stake snapped in two with a "crack," scattering charred wood chips all over the ground.

One.

Two.

Three, four.

All four God-Locking Pillars collapsed. Beneath the temple grounds, at the severed point of the divine root, the charred blackness gradually faded, faintly revealing a trace of earth energy that had come back to life.

The old sheep lying outside the temple suddenly trembled.

It sensed something and reconnected.

……

The rain has lessened a bit.

The old sheep transformed back into the appearance of an old man, its feet firmly planted on a small patch of solid ground, and it seemed to regain some of its vitality.

It bowed deeply to Lu Shanjun, bowing all the way to the bottom.

"I will never forget the kindness of the Tiger God."

"Well, we're even now."

Lu Shanjun waved his hand, "You shielded me from the lamp of wisdom, and I'll unlock the divine lock for you. From now on, we'll go our separate ways."

He then changed the subject.

"However, there is a small matter I would like to ask the local earth god for help with."

"Please speak, please speak!"

The old man hurriedly replied, "Going through fire and water... no, this old man can't go through fire and water... anyway, just give me your orders."

Lu Shanjun was amused by his honest and timid appearance and pointed to the three paths outside the temple leading to the mountain pass.

"Your Luoyan Pass is a strategic point."

"The trade route of the three prefectures knots here; to the north lies Huangfeng Ridge, and to the south, the lower temple of Lingshan. People come and go, and the wind stirs the grass; you, the local deity, know it all before anyone else."

"From now on, if there is anything unusual in this area, especially anything unusual about Buddhism, you should use earth magic to travel to Yellow Wind Ridge and report it to me."

The old man's eyes lit up.

This is like climbing up a high branch to the Tiger God of Huangfeng Ridge.

With this in mind, if Cui Lushi ever tries to kill him quietly again, he'll have to think twice.

"Okay, this is fine!"

The old man patted his chest, all the cleverness he had once possessed returned.

"I wouldn't dare boast about anything else, but within a hundred miles of Luoyan'ao, I can spot every rustle of wind and grass—who went down the mountain, who went up, which temple lit an extra stick of incense. My two protruding ears won't miss a single one!"

"That's good."

Lu Shanjun looked up and gazed to the north.

Deep within the rain curtain, the outline of Huangfengling was hidden in the clouds.

"I should go back now."

……

High in the sky, the wind howled fiercely.

Lu Shanjun stood on the Demon-Slaying Stone Sword, the aura brought by the Azure Cloud Sword Technique supporting him very steadily.

After flying for more than a hundred miles, people gradually appeared below.

This was already a village at the foot of Huangfeng Ridge. Lu Shanjun lowered his sword and looked down through the thin clouds.

Upon seeing this, his brows furrowed slightly.

Below, in the threshing grounds of several villages, under the old trees at the village entrances, a dozen or so monks in gray robes sat cross-legged in twos and threes.

Holding purple-gold alms bowls, they went from house to house begging for alms. Some even set up small stalls, closed their eyes, struck wooden fish drums, and chanted sutras to the village women and old men watching.

"Amitabha Buddha, benefactor, only by laying down the butcher's knife can you be reborn in the Pure Land..."

The chanting of Buddhist hymns traveled up through the clouds, making one's ears tingle.

Meanwhile, in the dense forest outside the village, several minor demons from Huangfeng Ridge were hiding in the tree canopy, peeking out from below.

Leading them were Stone and White Face.

The demons gritted their teeth, their faces filled with disgust.

They worked hard in the mountains, farming, blacksmithing, and protecting businesses, which brought a better life to the people in this area.

These bald guys are something else! They just sit down at the village entrance, chant a few sutras, and they've already taken half of the newly harvested rice from the villagers!

"I really want to go down and smash that wooden fish!" Stone muttered resentfully, gripping the iron rod in his hand.

"Don't act impulsively."

The pale-faced man lowered his voice, "His Majesty has established an ironclad rule that mortals must not be disturbed. Although these bald monks are annoying, they seem to be somewhat wary of our Huangfeng Ridge. They've only talked, without forcibly robbing us or starting a war on our territory. Let's be patient and wait for Master Hu to decide."

Above the clouds, Lu Shanjun heard this conversation and his tightly furrowed brows relaxed slightly.

Buddhism is cutting flesh with a soft knife.

They don't fight; they just compete for incense offerings and hearts.

This method is extremely subtle and insidious. If it were those mindless wild demons of the past, they would have rushed down to devour people long ago. Once they devoured people, it would have played right into the hands of Buddhism, allowing them to rightfully subdue the demons.

"Well done."

Lu Shanjun secretly praised his little demon subordinate in his heart.

Only those who can control their temper can be considered truly enlightened.

He did not reveal himself to disturb the village, but instead continued his westward patrol on his sword. He had flown less than thirty miles when the energy of heaven and earth ahead suddenly surged violently.

Immediately following was a loud, boisterous voice, clearly audible even from halfway up the mountain.

"Pah, you bald thief. If you've got the guts, don't use your tattered robe to cover me up. Go bare-chested and bump into Old Bear!"

Lu Shanjun turned around and was already at the top of the ravine.

The valley was a mess.

Among them was a black bear, more than two people tall, with its black fur standing on end and its paws as big as palm fans. It was surrounded by four or five monks.

The four were young and strong monks, each barefoot, performing ritualistic steps, each forming a Buddhist mudra in their hands, subtly trapping the black bear within a grand array of Buddhist chants.

The one in the lead was an old monk wearing an apricot-yellow robe.

With a flick of the robe, golden light filled the sky, as smooth as water and as fine as silk. Sometimes it transformed into a golden ribbon that swept towards the black bear, and sometimes it spread out like a net and fell down, making it truly strange and difficult to deal with.

The black bear struggled to stay upright, and was nearly knocked over by the robe. Just then, it stomped its foot hard.

"The wind is blowing!"

A dark, whirlwind enveloped it, and it suddenly moved two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) away, barely managing to escape from under the golden net.

Black Wind Escape Technique.

Lu Shanjun recognized him.

This is the signature skill of the bear clan in Journey to the West: they come and go without a trace and are most adept at roaming.

As soon as the black bear emerged, instead of retreating, it slapped a young monk on the top of the head with its paw.

The monk practiced the Iron Body Zen style and managed to withstand the palm strike, but he was still knocked down by half and spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Hahaha."

The black bear laughed loudly, his laughter echoing throughout the mountain. "Bald monk, taste the power of your bear grandpa!"

"Amitabha."

The old monk in the kasaya remained expressionless; the golden light faded, and his appearance became solemn and dignified.

"Benefactor Xiong, the Buddhist community is vast and compassionate. Dazhao Temple is in dire need of a guardian spirit beast. If you are willing to lay down your butcher's knife, receive your blessing, and become a Dharma protector, you will have achieved enlightenment. This is far better than being a man-eating beast in this desolate mountain."

"Bullshit."

The black bear spat at him, "Guardian beast of the mountain? That's a nice way of putting it. It's nothing more than a mount for you bald monks, so you can ride on its head and shit and piss on it!"

"Old Bear has lived a carefree life in Black Wind Mountain for five hundred years, eating and sleeping whenever he wants. Why should he be your livestock?"

The monk frowned, but quickly relaxed, his smile becoming even more amiable.

"Your anger is too strong."

"I'm just prone to anger!"

With a swift swipe of its paw, the black bear delivered another sweeping blow. "You hypocritical, bald thief! You chant 'Amitabha' while secretly plotting to take me back and ride me like a horse. The Buddhist sect's skin is thicker than this mountain!"

This was a very satisfying insult, and Lu Shanjun, who heard it from the top of the hill, couldn't help but smile.

However, despite its bravery, the black bear could not ultimately stand alone.

Its martial arts skills were formidable, and its Black Wind Escape Technique was cunning, but the chanting array of the four strong young monks trapped it within a radius of ten feet. The old monk's robe was like a leech, binding it and leaving it with less and less room to maneuver.

After several rounds, the black bear's dark fur was scorched with several marks by the golden ribbon, its breathing gradually became heavy, and its counterattacks weakened.

Lu Shanjun thought to himself.

This black bear is a mount that the Buddhist sect wants to take in.

The place where Buddhist temples are to be built is Huangfeng Ridge.

The enemy of Buddhism.

That is... a friend.