Song Zongwu went through a near-death battle and his lifespan was exhausted.
His face was covered with ravines, and his newly grown short hair was also silvery white, making him look like an old man who was about to die.
Ren Qing wanted to help Song Zong Wu Xinglu, but the latter shook his head.
"Ren Qing, you should have reached the perfection of Yin Cha Realm, right?"
"Well, the prototype of the magical power is called Xili Longyin, and it is..."
Ren Qinggang wanted to explain his magical powers, but Song Zongwu stopped him and said: "You don't have to explain it to me so clearly. Magical powers are the foundation. You must not tell others."
"I know."
Ren Qing had mixed feelings in his heart. From the time he came to this world, Song Zong had to play the role of guide and was very kind to him.
If you die like this...
Song Zongwu said: "To practice this path, you still have to walk it yourself."
Ren Qing turned to look at Song Zongwu. It felt like his last words before his death, even though there was no death intention in the latter's tone.
He tentatively said: "If you use magic to extend your life, you should still be able to..."
"Ha ha ha ha."
Song Zongwu let out a heroic laugh, and the aura he exuded not only did not weaken, but became more powerful, like burning fireworks.
"If I break through to the Yangshen Realm and Jingzhou ends, I will leave Xiangxiang and go back to Inspiration Temple. If I don't break through, then I will give up."
“Inspiration Temple?!!”
Ren Qing thought of the temple on Liuli Mountain, wasn't it called Inspiration Temple?
"That's where I practiced spirituality when I was a child. It's really far, far away from Xiangxiang."
"Senior Song, has your memory recovered?"
Ren Qing once asked Song Zongwu about Buddhism, but the latter's memory before coming to Xiangxiang disappeared inexplicably.
"Remember."
Ren Qing informed Song Zongwu about the previous encounter with Liuli Mountain, and the latter just nodded, as if he had expected it.
Song Zongwu had no intention of hiding anything from him, and told him the details of Buddhist magic, the content of which was horrifying.
Buddhist magic does not divide the realms, but divides the levels after becoming a Buddha into "Arhat Fruit", "Bodhisattva Fruit" and "Tathagata Fruit".
Ren Qing couldn't help but wonder: "Become a Buddha?"
"You will become a Buddha when you practice the technique to perfection. Arhat Bodhisattva Tathagata only divides Buddhas. They are collectively called Buddhas. There is no realm in practice..."
Song Zongwu was too young at the time and had no idea about this. However, even if the Buddha existed as an earthly immortal, he was at least a celestial being.
"Once you master the Buddhist techniques, there will be no bottlenecks during your practice."
Ren Qing thought of the corrosiveness of Buddha's energy that was comparable to that of demons, and couldn't help but ask: "Is it because Buddha's energy is difficult to control?"
"No, Buddhist magic can indeed control the Buddha's energy."
Song Zongwu signaled Ren Qing to look at the picture of hundreds of Buddhas behind him.
"But as long as the cultivator reaches the right state and becomes a Buddha for up to a hundred years, the monk's body and soul will be swallowed up by the Buddha's energy for unknown reasons. It can also be said to become a part of the Buddhist state."
"Swallowing dozens of Buddhas to become Arhats, swallowing hundreds of Buddhas to become Bodhisattvas, swallowing thousands of Buddhas to become Tathagata, the aura of the Buddha is... a great terror."
Ren Qing carefully counted the Hundred Buddhas Picture, and there were ninety-seven Buddhas on it, which meant that this fruition had swallowed up ninety-seven Buddhas.
"The Buddhist technique I practice is called the Immovable Sutra, which corresponds to the Arhat Sitting on a Deer."
Because of the uniqueness of the fruition stage, only one person can practice the Immovable Sutra at the same time, and there are also qualification restrictions for "Buddha disciples".
Song Zongwu said with a self-deprecating smile: "If I had just used Buddhist energy to break through to the Yangshen realm, my Buddhist cultivation would indeed have improved greatly."
Ren Qing didn't know what to say. How could there be such a weird magic in the world?
That Glazed Mountain was probably for Song Zongwu who came to Jingzhou and wanted him to complete the Immovable Sutra as soon as possible, which shows the power of Buddhism.
While they were talking, they arrived at the foot of the mountain, and they immediately climbed towards the top.
"I was only five or six years old when I left Inspiration Temple. I knew very little about Buddhism, but I vaguely remember that many eminent monks lived ten lives before dying."
Ren Qing understood the meaning of Song Zongwu's words.
What Buddhist monks can do is to delay becoming a Buddha as long as possible and avoid disasters through reincarnation, but ten lives is already the limit.
If mortals were allowed to choose, there would probably be many who would practice Buddhist magic.
In these ten lives, even if he does not come into contact with magic, he can still live for at least forty or fifty years, which is a full four to five hundred years.
If you deliberately extend your life, you can live for at least a thousand more years.
Although the end result is the same.
Ren Qing looked at Song Zongwu complicatedly, and was shocked by the latter's courage.
Although he is already on the verge of death, he can break through to the realm of Yangshen by accepting the Buddha's energy, and wait until a thousand years have passed before he can think about achieving enlightenment.
But Song Zong did not choose the most difficult path.
Song Zongwu was out of breath while climbing the mountain, his whole body was soaked with blood and sweat, and even the pupils in his eyes were shaking slightly.
"Senior Song, do you... know how many lives you have lived?"
Song Zongwu came to his senses, took a shaky sip of wine, and then replied: "Of course I don't know, that's why I have to work hard to survive."
Ren Qing was speechless.
The two of them walked to the top of the mountain in silence. The journey originally took half an hour, but it took Song Zongwu more than five hours.
Song Zongwu stood on the cliff with rugged rocks and couldn't help but stretch.
As the sun sets in the west, the fiery red light covers the mountain tops, making the dead leaves on the ground look like gold, and the dew glitters.
"After all your cultivation is lost, the world is so beautiful."
Song Zong said without sighing.
Then he turned to look at Ren Qing and said again: "Ren Qing, the man who went up the mountain accompanied me, but now I want to see the scenery down the mountain."
"I'll bring you……"
Ren Qing's heart was beating wildly and his face turned a little red.
With Song Zongwu's physical condition, setting off again to go down the mountain would undoubtedly cut off his chances of survival.
"No."
Song Zongwu's eyes were extremely sharp, and Ren Qing and Song Rong overlapped in his eyes. He couldn't help scolding: "Either help me collect the corpse, or witness me becoming a Yangshen!"
"How could I be old and waiting to die?!"
"How can I, Song Zongwu, stay old and wait for death?!"
Song Zongwu drank the peach wine in one gulp, used his legs to leap towards the cliff, and his body fell to the ground out of control at an extremely fast speed.
The mountain wind hit him in the face, which was really pleasant.
Ren Qing subconsciously took a half step forward, but finally couldn't bear to close his eyes tightly.
Song Zongwu only felt that his consciousness was stretched infinitely, and the pressure from death caused hallucinations to appear in front of his eyes.
Memories flash back like a revolving door.
………
The magnificent Buddhist temple is filled with the smell of incense, and the sound of tapping wooden fish is constantly heard.
In the center is a statue of an Arhat riding a deer, which is emitting a faint light, as if it is engulfing everything around it.
The young novice was squatting under the altar, and his exposed buttocks were lightly kicked by a monk.
The monk couldn't help laughing and scolding: "No, no, no, no, you know your master is looking for you in the Zen room, why are you hiding here to avoid the limelight?"
"I understand, senior brother Huiwu."
The novice monk ran towards the side hall, covering his buttocks. The road was deserted.
He came to the door of the meditation room, put his head in front of the gap and looked, but there was no sign of the master, so he simply opened the door and walked in first.
As soon as he entered the room, his attention was attracted by the two books placed on the wooden table.
He opened the book and looked at it. The content inside was hard to understand, and the illustrations were all kinds of evil spirits. He couldn't help but turn pale with fear.
"Shura method?"
Liaowu fell into a trance without realizing it and was shocked by the mystery displayed by Shura Dharma.
At this time, the picture became blurry, as if a section in the middle had been forcibly deleted, and the next breath the Buddhist temple turned into a burning ruin.
He stood there in tattered clothes.
The monks were all tending to the injuries of their companions, and the sound of crying could still be heard, and the statue of the Arhat Riding a Deer was also broken into two halves.
Looking hopelessly towards the fire, an old monk whose appearance he couldn't see clearly walked up to him.
The old monk dusted Wu off and said in a helpless tone: "After all, you can't escape. You are destined to become a disciple of the Buddha."
"Master, I don't want to be a Buddhist disciple..."
The old monk looked somewhat comforted and then said: "In that case."
He struck out with a fierce palm and hit Wu on the forehead. Amidst the incredible exclamations of many monks, Wu lost his life.
The old monk pulled away Wu's soul, and then left the Inspiration Temple in a daze.
He was going to find the body of a baby who had died prematurely, preferably not dead, but also had to be born with mutilated arms and the five senses cut off.
However, if such a baby were possessed, he would probably not survive for a few days.
The old monk murmured: "If one doesn't work, just two. If two doesn't work, then three."
………
The sun sank below the horizon, and the mountain wind was bitingly cold.
Song Zongwu's pupils condensed again, and he was only more than ten meters away from the ground.
If it weren't for the mountain wind that kept pouring into his mouth, he wouldn't even have the strength to breathe.
The vitality in Song Zongwu's body gradually disappeared, and the desire to die came into his heart. Even before he hit the ground, his body showed signs of collapse.
Black and red blood flowed from his facial features, and the strange things in his body began to revive.
Although Song Zongwu did not close his eyes, his eyes had fallen into darkness, and time seemed to have frozen at this moment.
He is still half a meter above the ground.
"The two prison techniques taught by the master, the Shura technique requires the loss of both arms, and the listening technique requires the loss of all five senses..."
"If there is a next life, I probably won't be able to meet the conditions for cultivation."
Song Zongwu grinned.
He had no memory of the techniques taught by his master, but the suffering he experienced was engraved in his flesh and bones, forcibly supporting the slow beating of his failing heart.
"I'm really unwilling to be led by the Immovable Sutra. I'm really unwilling..."
The wooden fish was knocked hard.
"Idiot, you still haven't woken up!!!"
Song Zongwu opened his blood-red eyes and clenched his teeth like a hungry wolf.
To ensure his consciousness, he bit off his tongue. Warm blood gathered in his mouth, and the smell of blood proved that he was still alive.
"Either Bu Bu lives, or Bu Bu dies."
The moment Song Zongwu stretched out his arm and his fingertips touched the ground.
boom!!!
Endless strength burst out from deep in his heart, two arms grew again under his armpits, and his six eyes turned pure black.
Song Zong turned over without dexterity and landed on the ground. The picture of the Hundred Buddhas on his back was suppressed by the underworld, and the chains pulled the Buddha patterns into his flesh and blood.
Yang Shen realm is achieved.
From then on, there was no longer a four-armed Yama, only a six-armed Shura.
"You will not fall after going through suffering. This is the path of Asura."