Chapter Fifty: The Beast Tide
The sudden tremor of the ground threw the restaurant into chaos. Long Yun’s brows knitted as he pulled Chu Xuan close to his side.
“My heavens! What’s happening? Is it an earthquake?” Voices cried out in alarm throughout the restaurant.
Experts from various cultivation sects immediately stood and gazed toward the direction of Yandang Mountain. Only they could sense the source of the looming danger.
Long Yun’s gaze also shifted in that direction, anxiety tightening his chest. The rumbling from beneath their feet was like the thunderous charge of ten thousand horses.
It was the resonance caused by countless beasts trampling the earth. Long Yun was stunned—could it be that the monsters from Yandang Mountain were pouring down in a furious assault?
A beast tide! The words sprang instantly to Long Yun’s mind.
The two young monks’ faces turned pale, and their eyes darted to the elderly monk.
The old monk sighed softly and said, “The cycle of cause and effect, retribution upon retribution, goodness remains, goodness persists. You are too attached to appearances.”
“Yes, Grandmaster, we realize our mistake!” Shancun and Shanzai bowed their heads at once, reciting Buddhist scriptures, their minds settling into quietude.
The violent tremors sent everyone in the restaurant into a panic. Most patrons here were cultivators from various sects.
Since Long Yun had deduced the arrival of a beast tide, so too had the others. They swiftly grabbed their weapons and rushed outside.
If fortune favored them, perhaps they might escape alive. But a moment’s delay could spell certain death.
None dared to linger—except Long Yun and the three monks.
He felt a gaze rest upon him. Turning, Long Yun’s eyes met those of the gray-robed elderly monk.
The Buddhist path is founded on compassion, and Zen masters are figures of great virtue. Long Yun had learned this on Divine Dragon Island. Receiving the old monk’s gaze, he smiled gently and offered a distant bow.
The old monk returned the gesture with a mild smile, hands pressed together in greeting.
His gaze then fell upon Chu Xuan at Long Yun’s side. The calm in his eyes was suddenly replaced by a ripple of emotion, his body trembling ever so slightly, nearly spilling the tea in his hand.
“Grandmaster, what is it?” Shancun and Shanzai hurriedly asked as they saw his reaction.
The old monk’s expression resumed its tranquility and he murmured, “My cultivation is still insufficient. A monk is meant to be free of desires, yet I am troubled by emotion. Amitabha, I am at fault.”
As he finished speaking, the elderly monk slowly approached Long Yun, his eyes never leaving Chu Xuan.
Long Yun understood the meaning behind the old monk’s gaze. Chu Xuan possessed the rare Mystic Spirit Physique, a body inherently aligned with the Buddhist path. The monk’s reaction was entirely expected.
Chu Xuan, too, noticed the old monk’s gaze. For reasons unknown to him, the aura emanating from the monk felt inexplicably familiar, drawing him closer in a way he couldn’t resist.
He was unaware of his own Mystic Spirit Physique, and so could not comprehend the source of this feeling.
Long Yun rose and bowed slightly. “Master, please be seated.”
The old monk did not refuse. He sat across from Chu Xuan and asked gently, “May I inquire, benefactor, what is your relationship to this young one?”
The Mystic Spirit Physique held immeasurable significance to the Buddhist sects. The monk could easily discern that Long Yun was a cultivator, and if Chu Xuan was his junior, it meant he belonged to a sect already.
If that were so, as upright sects, they would not attempt to steal a disciple from another. After asking, the monk felt a pang of apprehension.
Long Yun smiled. “Master, he is my younger brother.”
The monk’s expression softened at the answer. He then asked, “Does your brother belong to any sect?”
Long Yun shook his head and affectionately patted Chu Xuan’s little head. “He’s a resident of this small town. Because of me, he lost his parents and has not joined any sect.”
The reason Long Yun spoke so candidly was for Chu Xuan’s sake. He was destined for a perilous path, one where survival was never assured. With his current strength, he could not guarantee Chu Xuan’s safety.
Moreover, Long Yun knew that Chu Xuan’s physique was the greatest sacred body of the Buddhist path. Such a body would inevitably be drawn toward Buddhism, as dictated by the laws of fate.
It was better to entrust Chu Xuan to the Zen sect. With his Mystic Spirit Physique, he would be cherished there, never suffering mistreatment.
The old monk’s eyes flashed with approval upon hearing Long Yun’s words. For a cultivator to admit his actions had caused harm to ordinary people was no easy matter. Yet Long Yun spoke with sincerity.
Such honesty at his young age was rare; it spoke of a noble character.
“Benefactor, your brother is destined for Buddhism. With the beast tide approaching, I must ask: with your cultivation, protecting him will be exceedingly difficult. I am but a humble monk, yet I implore you to let the young one follow me to the Zen sect. I assure you, he will never be wronged there,” the old monk said quietly.
Long Yun looked at Chu Xuan and saw his face turn pale. The boy’s small hand gripped his tightly, as though afraid he would be handed over to the monk.
“Xuan’er, I’ve never told you before, but your body is the supreme sacred physique of Buddhism, known as the Mystic Spirit Physique. This physique is destined for Buddhism. If you hadn’t met me, you would eventually follow this path anyway. Your brother has too many enemies and cannot guarantee your safety, nor do I wish you to come to harm. So please, listen to me and go with the master,” Long Yun’s voice choked.
Chu Xuan’s expression was heartbreaking to witness, but Long Yun knew that if he didn’t do this, Chu Xuan’s fate would be tragic.
Chu Xuan bit his lip softly. “Will my brother come to see me in the Zen sect?”
Long Yun nodded firmly. “I promise, I will visit you in the Zen sect. And if, one day, I defeat all my enemies, I’ll bring you home.”
As he spoke, tears streamed down his face. Chu Xuan was barely eight, yet so understanding. Long Yun knew the boy was unwilling to leave him, but his words had changed Chu Xuan’s mind.
Such a sensible child—how could anyone bear to let him go?
“Don’t cry, brother!” Chu Xuan gently wiped Long Yun’s tears away. “As long as you visit me, I’ll behave in the Zen sect.”
“Good child!” Long Yun knelt and embraced Chu Xuan, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t worry, I’ll come for you soon, I promise!”
“I believe you, brother!” Chu Xuan nodded, trying to smile to comfort Long Yun, but as he smiled, tears spilled over.
The old monk watched them and continued, “Rest assured, benefactor. The young one will be treated with the utmost care in our Zen sect. If you miss him, simply come find me. My Buddhist name is Duyu.”
Long Yun nodded. “Thank you, master. But I have one more request.”
“Speak, benefactor,” the monk replied.
Long Yun glanced outside. The tremors had grown fiercer, and oil lamps hanging in the restaurant were crashing down, testament to the terror of the beast tide.
“This beast tide, if I’m not mistaken, was triggered by the disciples of the Azure Sect hunting a black flood dragon. That dragon possessed dragon blood and held a high status in Yandang Mountain. I ask, master, that you help resist the beast tide, or countless civilians will face disaster,” Long Yun said earnestly.
“To save a life is greater than building a seven-story pagoda. Rest assured, benefactor, I will do all I can to help repel the beast tide,” the monk agreed.
“Then I am at ease! Master, let us go together,” Long Yun smiled. He had no idea what level of cultivation the monk had reached.
With his assistance, the innate level beasts from the tide would not so easily defeat the cultivators.
Outside Yandang Mountain, it was as if a flood had erupted. Before their eyes, trees and flowers were flattened like harvested wheat.
The growls of beasts and the crackling of breaking trees echoed, darkening the faces of the cultivators who had already gathered outside.