Chapter 1786: Chapter 1813: That Monk Named Wuhu
“These two are too calm, something’s off.”
“Miss, I’ve heard that the best hunters often appear as prey; we’re not bringing two jinxes aboard, are we?”
Inside the carriage, the three women whispered among themselves, clearly alarmed by Li Xiaobai’s suggestion to abandon the two black-robed individuals.
This person is far too proficient, definitely not someone being robbed, but rather the robber himself.
The carriage slowed down unconsciously; Li Xiaobai tugged on the reins, and the horse’s legs trembled, sensing danger and feeling very afraid.
At the same time, a few streaks of light descended from the sky, exuding black-purple Demonic Qi, all bald-headed.
Li Xiaobai found them familiar; weren’t they the monks from the abandoned Eastern Land? With Demonic Flame engulfing them, attacking the Pure Land, someone had actually pursued this far.
The situation was clear at a glance: the three women inside the carriage were disciples of the Nunnery of Pure Land, being hunted by the disciples under the Demon Buddha of the Eastern Land.
A few bald monks blocked the way, shouting sternly, “Stop…”
“Gate of Destiny!”
Yu Huan Shui shouted angrily, wielding pen and ink in hand, writing two words “Silence!” on the monks’ foreheads.
Then, he grabbed into the void, pulling a few into the carriage, swiftly scanning their memories.
“Strike first to avoid future troubles.”
“Brother, their memories are quite interesting!”
Li Xiaobai quietly sheathed the longsword: “Well done.”
“I’ve heard of this Buddha lord; even in deep space, he is considered mighty, didn’t expect he’s a cultivator from the Immortal Gods Realm. This place is extraordinary, Immortal Ye, Netherworld, Buddha lord, main, human race’s Imperial City all are here, the Immortal Gods Realm’s fortune is prosperous.”
Yu Huan Shui scanned through their memories, soon losing interest; they were just small fry, only the part about attacking the Pure Land was noteworthy.
“How do we deal with them?”
“Throw them into the small world as labor; we are short on manpower.”
Li Xiaobai, with a thought, ignoring the horrified gazes of the bald monks, thrust them into the small world.
The Pure Land is currently building a city, the more cheap labor the better.
The carriage resumed speed, galloping westward, perhaps due to hearing the sudden halt of the bald monks’ shout, or realizing no pursuers were following, the black-robed people inside the carriage became restless.
“Li Xiaobai, did you hear something just now?”
Li Xiaobai casually replied, “No sound, rest assured, it’s rare to meet anyone deep in the mountains and forests.”
Silence followed among them.
As time passed, the carriage emerged from the woodlands, proceeded along the official road, as the barren land gradually turned into houses, and the vague silhouette of a city came into view.
“Cold Moon Temple.”
The three characters came into sight.
Li Xiaobai first arrived at the Pure Land by entering this temple; the abbot was not a good person, withstanding several rounds of attacks by Eastern Land monks, it’s unknown if any survive.
Before they could approach, a white figure rushed towards them, dressed like a nun.
The nun stood before the carriage, pressing her palms together: “Amitabha…”
“Gate of Destiny!”
Yu Huan Shui, without a second thought, wrote “Silence” on the nun’s face, inspired by Ye Wushuang’s earlier provocation, realizing a force kept silencing the second senior sister, he began practicing the silencing arts.
“The nun’s religious name is Jing An, she’s the master of the young nun inside the carriage, young nun’s name is Jing Ci.”
“A genuine nun, her life is dull from what I gleaned from her memory, didn’t even have an affair with old monks, was hoping for something juicy.”
Yu Huan Shui flipped through the old nun’s life story, finding it uninteresting.
The nunnery where the old nun resided is called Cihang Temple, many of her disciples were killed by the demon monks, the Great Disciple Jing Ci escaped outside, she recognized this carriage as belonging to Cihang Temple, and thus came forward to engage.
“How could monastics have so much drama, toss her into the small world for labor.”
Li Xiaobai waved a hand, storing Jing An the old nun in the extreme evil Pure Land.
The carriage moved on, unobstructed. On this official road, anyone who approached to engage could not utter a complete sentence, first deeply scrutinized by Yu Huan Shui, then thrown into the small world by Li Xiaobai for labor.
The motions were seamless, yet Jing Ci inside was unaware her identity had been exposed, only puzzled as to why the carriage passed unchallenged, with no pursuers in sight.
“Stop, who goes there!”
Before Cold Moon Temple, behind a table filled with wine and meat, rolled out a monk full of fat, oil smeared at the corners of his mouth, glaringly chastised unclearly.
“Buddhist practitioner, here for pilgrimage.”
Li Xiaobai cupped his hands, politely.
“Get lost, there’s no saint here for you to venerate, Cold Moon Temple is a restricted area, no idle people allowed inside.”
“Then why are they allowed in?”
Yu Huan Shui pointed towards the gate, many cultivators stepping on flying swords barged in, without any obstruction.
“Is this your concern? Get lost!”
The monk rudely chased Li Xiaobai away.
This one was a classic bully, seeing them talk nicely, assumed they were easy to push around.
Yu Huan Shui wielded the big pen, knocked the fat monk straight down, his whole body of fat spread out on the ground. Li Xiaobai cooperatively threw him into the extreme evil Pure Land, then asked: “How’s the battle?”
“From his memory, this place has been occupied by the Eastern Land, monks of the Pure Land have been forced to a piece of Buddha Sea, no longer having territory on the land.”
Yu Huan Shui said.
The Eastern Land moved rather fast, how long has it been, and they have already forced the native monks to Lingyin Temple.
From all directions, cultivators treaded the sky, not aiding any side, but to scavenge. Both sides lost heavily, attracting Loose Cultivators smelling wealth, swarming in droves.
The east and west factions couldn’t spare resources to deal with the vast number of Loose Cultivators, temporarily leaving them unchecked.
Inside the carriage, Jing Ci asked: “Why did the carriage stop, where are we?”
“Reached Cold Moon Temple.”
Li Xiaobai replied.
“Cold Moon Temple?”
“We were in the wilderness just moments ago, how did we suddenly reach Cold Moon Temple?”
“We can’t go this way, need to change routes inside.”
Jing Ci was greatly shocked, immediately realizing Cold Moon Temple was no longer guarded by Buddhist monks, hastily spoke.
“We’ve already entered.”
The carriage charged down the road as if no one was there, Loose Cultivators unsure of the carriage driver’s identity, exhibited such arrogance, unwilling to provoke, quickly stepped aside.
Many monks from the Eastern Land also eyed Li Xiaobai and Yu Huan Shui on the carriage, appearing a bit puzzled.
“Do you find something familiar about that bald head driving the carriage, like we’ve seen him before?”
“Indeed, feels like we’ve seen him somewhere.”
“It’s that monk named Wuhu, who staged a Heavenly Tribulation at Lingyin Temple, almost implicated Master Tang Sanzang, didn’t he flee, why is he back?”