After the ghost-hunting master descended the mountain, his fame spread throughout the capital.

Huiming raised his right hand, held it upright in front of his chest, and softly recited a Buddhist chant:

"Amitabha."

As the Buddhist chant ended, a layer of golden light appeared around him, enveloping his entire body.

"boom!"

The dragon claw slammed into the seemingly thin layer of golden light, producing a dull, resounding thud.

A violent shockwave exploded outwards from the two people, causing the walls on both sides of the alley to tremble violently and dust and gravel to fall in a flurry.

However, the seemingly ferocious dragon claw failed to shake the golden light in the slightest. Instead, it seemed to have crashed into an insurmountable mountain, with wisps of death energy scattering from the claw tip, and the illusory image of the Emperor's Soul also swayed slightly.

Huiming remained motionless, but the compassion in his clear eyes deepened, as if he were seeing a lost lamb trapped in the mud.

He looked at Shi Qinglian, who was fully activating his Emperor Soul, and slowly said, "Junior Brother, you are using evil methods to forcefully activate your Emperor Soul. It may seem powerful, but in reality, your foundation is weak, like a tree without roots or a source without water."

"Although this imperial soul is heavy with death energy and deep with resentment, it is ultimately an external entity, a manifestation of someone else's lingering attachments. If you use this power to attack, you will only injure the enemy by three parts while harming yourself by seven parts. Furthermore, you are more likely to be corrupted by its death energy, falling into demonic possession and never recovering. Why bother?"

As he spoke, his right hand, which was held in front of his chest, did not fall down. However, the golden light that enveloped his body suddenly rippled outward like water, spreading outward without any obstruction.

Wherever the golden light passed, the raging, destructive imperial aura hissed and melted away, quickly thinning out.

The illusory image of the Emperor's Soul seemed to be restrained by something, and was involuntarily pushed backward by the golden light.

As well, Shi Qinglian felt a gentle force coming towards him, forcing him to take half a step back to dissipate the force, and his face turned even paler.

Huiming did not pursue, but stood still, the golden light still gently enveloping him. His gaze towards Shi Qinglian was filled with sorrow:

"Junior brother, your heart is in turmoil. Your obsessions run too deep and have clouded your mind. If you can pull back from the brink, calm your mind and clear your thoughts, and return to the right path, it is not too late."

"As for having a child, she has her own destiny, her own trials, and her own fate. Your interference will not bring good results for either you or her."

Shi Qinglian steadied himself. The churning blood and qi in his chest and the stinging backlash from the Emperor Soul in his sea of ​​consciousness made him clearly realize that Huiming's cultivation was higher than he had expected.

Beneath that peaceful exterior lies a Buddhist foundation forged through decades of arduous practice, something that cannot be compared to his reliance on external forces.

He had not yet fully merged with the century-old imperial soul; their minds were connected yet pulled apart.

In this state, facing a senior brother with such near-perfect cultivation, it would indeed be difficult to gain the upper hand. If they were to fight head-on, they would only suffer losses.

In the end, Shi Qinglian's forced aura subsided, and the strange fluctuations around her subsided, leaving only a lingering pale complexion.

He tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing a self-deprecating smile: "Senior brother, I never imagined that we would one day stand on such opposing sides. The scene of us studying Buddhism together and attaining enlightenment together is still vivid in my mind..."

He shook his head and didn't continue, instead saying, "Today, I have lost. My skills are inferior, and I have nothing to say."

Huiming looked at him, sighed deeply, and the pain in her eyes almost overflowed.

He stepped forward, his voice softening further, "Junior brother, now that you know you've strayed from the right path, you should turn back in time. Listen to your senior brother and hand over that Emperor Soul. This thing is malevolent and ominous, corrupting the mind and spirit; keeping it by your side for too long will surely become a great calamity."

"Hand it over, and let Buddhism slowly dissolve the malevolent energy within it. You can find a propitious place to seal it away. Pretend that your senior brother never came today, and that neither you nor I made a move."

"After this, you can go into seclusion to cultivate your mind and body; it's not too late."

Upon hearing this, Shi Qinglian chuckled lightly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes; instead, it revealed a hint of mockery.

He slowly raised his hand, his fingertips lightly touching his brow, where a faint, eerie golden line flashed and disappeared:

"Senior brother, you want me to hand it over?" He repeated the question, "Heh...too late. This Emperor Soul is no longer an external object."

"It is connected to my blood and essence, and nearly half of my consciousness has merged with it. Through day and night of refining and spiritual interaction, it is now both a ferocious beast and an indispensable part of my power, as well as an extension of my consciousness. We... are already inseparable."

"If we forcibly separate them now..." Shi Qinglian traced her fingertip across her brow, "At best, my soul will be severely damaged, my foundation destroyed, and I might even become a mentally disabled cripple; at worst..."

Shi Qinglian lowered her voice, "Without the restraint of me, the half-host, the Emperor Soul has completely lost control and backfired, taking with it most of the cultivation and essence I poured into it. The death aura of a hundred-year-old emperor contained within it will completely erupt, sweeping across several miles and potentially turning it into a dead zone devoid of life."

"And the one who will be most affected is you, my senior brother who is closest to me."

He tilted his head slightly, looking at Huiming's suddenly changed expression, and continued to ask in an eerily calm tone:

"Senior brother, your Buddhist teachings are profound and your cultivation is exceptional; you may be able to protect yourself. But what about the tens of thousands of innocent people in Changling City, at the foot of the imperial city?"

"Can they withstand this overwhelming deathly aura? You are compassionate and wish to save all living beings, are you sure... you want to force me to hand over my Imperial Soul at this moment, in this place, and gamble with the lives of all the people in this city?"

His words were partly true and partly a threat.

The Emperor's soul was deeply entangled with his consciousness, and the consequences of forcibly separating them were unpredictable. However, involving the people in the city was his last bargaining chip.

He knew his senior brother was compassionate and would never take such a risk.

Huiming's expression indeed became even more serious.

He stared silently at Shi Qinglian, as if trying to penetrate the shell tainted by prejudice and evil, attempting to find even a trace of the boy who once devoutly inquired about the Dao beside the ancient Buddha and the green lamp.

After a long while, he slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again, his eyes filled with disappointment and determination.

"You may leave." Huiming's voice was filled with deep weariness, as if these words had exhausted all his cultivation. "From now on, never tell anyone that you came from Nanchan Temple and were a disciple of the late Master Liaowu. And never... call me senior brother again."

"Nanchan Temple has no disciples like you who practice evil arts, are stubbornly deluded, and even dare to use the lives of ordinary people as hostages to blackmail their fellow disciples. Don't tarnish the reputation of our master."

These words, like the sharpest razor, severed the last vestige of the bond between master and disciple.

From then on, if they met on the left or right of the road, they would be strangers, or even... enemies.