NOVEL NEXT Chapter 222 Wunian
February 8th, Northern Lands experienced another heavy snowfall, covering the entire Divine Capital in a blanket of snow, transforming it into Snow City.
In this bitterly cold weather that could freeze a person to death, only the soldiers protecting the Divine Capital were still moving about outside.
Three feet of snowfall had the soldiers stationed at the city gate starting to clear the snow early in the morning, barely managing to clean it up by 7 a.m.
"This weather, it keeps snowing," one sighed while stretching to warm up his limbs, "I guess in an hour, we'll have to clear the snow again."
"If only I had superb Martial Arts skills," Kuang San, guarding the gate, said while massaging his back, "with one palm strike I could melt the snow, and my body wouldn't fear the cold."
"Forget it, Kuang San, if you had that kind of ability, you wouldn't be guarding the gate," another soldier chuckled.
"I'd like to, why not," Kuang San retorted with a laugh, "even the cleaner at the Qintian Observatory is an Innate Realm expert. If I had those skills, why couldn't I continue to guard the gate?"
"Hey," another soldier teased, "the cleaner there is a Daoist under Daoist Qingyu, you think you can compare with them?"
"Dingling—"
As they were laughing, a crisp bell sound suddenly rang out.
The sound of the bell was very clear, as if it was ringing right next to their ear, and carried a sense of tranquility that made the listeners feel serene.
It was strange, the bell that should make noise only when moved, yet it brought peace. Even Kuang San and the others, who were just laughing, unconsciously restrained their smiles, and a calm expression spread across their faces.
"Amitabha, it is the old monk's failure to control his Qi Mechanism," a venerable yet strong voice came from not far away, causing Kuang San and the others to look forward, only to see an old monk wearing plain monk clothes and a wide hat with two strings of small bells, who wasn't there before.
The sound of the bells had come from those two strings of small bells hanging from the large hat.
The old monk's complexion was ruddy, his skin lacked the wrinkles typical of old age, rather, it was somewhat smooth like that of a young man. If it weren't for his snow-white eyebrows and nearly three feet-long white beard, Kuang San and the others might have mistaken him for a middle-aged man.
After all, in this heavy snow, while Kuang San and others felt chilly even wearing cotton-padded jackets, the old monk wore only a thin monk robe. The cold wind blew, fluttering his robe, yet the old monk stood straight without shivering.
With Kuang San's eyesight, that was all he could discern that was out of the ordinary. He could only guess that this old monk must be a Martial Arts expert, someone he couldn't afford to offend.
"The master is too courteous," Kuang San hurriedly pressed his palms together, "Master, are you looking for a temple? There are no temples inside Divine Capital, if you seek one, you would need to head to the Pushan Temple."
Saying so, Kuang San gestured to indicate the direction to the Pushan Temple.
These past two years, the number of monks in Divine Capital had increased, and Kuang San had given directions to many monks, becoming quite proficient at it.
However, in recent days, the number of monks in Divine Capital had dwindled, many familiar faces had not appeared before Kuang San's eyes again.
"Amitabha, the master didn't take offense at the old monk's mistake, such generosity of spirit,"
the old monk intoned another chant, stating, "However, you are mistaken, my visit here is not to ask for directions."
"Wunian, the master—"
Inside the city gate, a middle-aged man dressed in brocade stepped forward with a bow, "I am Xu Heng, under the orders of Daoist Qingyu, to welcome the master into the city."
"Amitabha," said Zen Monk Wunian, "For Master Xu to welcome this old monk with the 'Thousand Soul Seizing Spear,' Daoist Qingyu's kindness is more than I deserve."
Master Xu Heng, known as 'Thousand Soul Seizing Spear,' was a famous Jianghu Wandering Cultivator twenty years ago but now serves as a Royal Tributor in Northern Zhou. His arrival indicated that Daoist Qingyu had long been aware of the monk's whereabouts, showing the Daoist's powerful influence that could sway the royal court and officials.
The former was something the old monk had anticipated. After all, throughout his journey, he had not hidden his tracks nor had he disguised his intentions.
However, the latter introduced the old monk to the standing of Daoist Qingyu.
The position of a Royal Tributor was traditionally only moved by the Emperor's command. Even the Emperor himself would not treat them with impertinence; they were always well cared for.
That Qingyu could command a Royal Tributor to meet and greet guests at the city gates was not just about status.
Zen Monk Wunian slightly lowered his bamboo hat and said, "Please lead the way, Master Xu."
"Master, after you."
With Xu Heng leading the way and Zen Monk Wunian following close behind, their movements seemed slow but were actually fast. In just a few steps, they had vanished from the sight of Kuang San and the others.
---
The wind and snow oscillated, and the Heavenly Giant Statue towering at the plaza in front of Taihe Palace stood like an immemorial deity or a menacing demon.
Since the first day of the new year, the statue had been absorbing an increasing amount of Primordial Energy. Streaks of golden Qi seeped out from the ground, feeding into the statue, nourishing someone meditating inside.
"Master, we have arrived."
Xu Heng guided Zen Monk Wunian to the front of the Heavenly Giant Statue and then immediately departed, not daring to linger any longer.
As for Zen Monk Wunian, he looked up at the chaotic dance of the wind and snow in the sky; his ancient and wise eyes could barely conceal a hint of astonishment.
"Absorbing the world's Essence Qi, integrating the Dragon Vein within, cultivating the balance of Yin Yang, reaching the power of the heart, Daoist Qingyu is indeed close to achieving the Dao," Zen Monk Wunian whispered.
Though the voice was soft, the White-haired Daoist inside the statue heard everything.
"The Divine Communication Realm still has one Heavenly Domain to cross; though I am confident I can surpass it, saying it is 'close' is somewhat exaggerated."
The profound and distant voice echoed through the air, and the swirling snow seemed to be blocked by an invisible wall, no longer able to penetrate the area around them.
"However, Master Wunian, your achievements are already near their completion. In seven days, Nirvana will come, and your life and death will be decided afterwards."
"Amitabha, Daoist, your insight is illuminating," responded Wunian.
The old monk was a disciple of Dharma Temple going back three generations and a junior to the current abbot. This year, he was nearly three hundred years old.
His cultivation was to achieve Nirvana at the end of his life span, with life born from successful cultivation. Every Realm required him to push his lifespan to its limit, betting on life and death at the end to achieve a new life.
Such a path required tremendous patience, immense restraint, and an exceptional mental state. Only thus could one suppress the rising thoughts and take the risk at the end of one's lifespan.
In seven days, it would be the time of the monk's life's exhaustion and also his moment of Nirvana.
On the eighth day, regardless of whether the monk succeeded in his cultivation, his position as number one on the Earth Ranking would be vacated because at that time, Zen Monk Wunian of the True Pill Realm would no longer exist.