Chapter 188 Looking at the Scenery

　　Rama, the sword-wielding warrior, removed his fearsome divine mask, revealing an Eastern face.

　　Wei Yuan was stunned with a single glance.

　　Wait, wait, what's going on...?

　　This face, at least seventy percent similar to his appearance in the Tang Dynasty!

　　The similarity was so striking that no one would doubt they shared the same parents.

　　Only the arrogance and ruthlessness between his brows, and the inexplicably curly black hair, distinguished this king from Northern Indian legends from the uninhibited wanderer of Chang'an in the Tang Dynasty.

　　And the slight impurities in his true spirit. Wuzhi Qi, in his drunken state, found the face familiar but couldn't immediately pinpoint the problem. However, the confusion on Wuzhi Qi's face nearly stopped Wei Yuan's heart.

　　After all, although this guy was stubborn, his instinctive intuition was ridiculously strong, and he held grudges like no other.

　　He remembered a pottery jar from five thousand years ago to this day.

　　After countless reincarnations, this monkey could still recognize him at a glance.

　t even make sense... but thankfully, even if this true spirit was related to his experiences in the Tang Dynasty, it wouldn't matter if the monkey found out. He already knew about his journey to the West with Xuanzang. One more debt wouldn't hurt. They could always fight again.

　　Wait, this is Rama?!

　　Wei Yuan's thoughts froze, and the Northern Indian epic he had read on the road surfaced in his mind.

　　Rama, one of the ten avatars of Vishnu, and actually one of the weakest in terms of divinity.

　　His most famous deeds:

　　Defeating the great demon king and saving Princess Sita.

　　Breaking up with Sita.

　　Reconciling with Sita.

　　And having two sons.

　　Two!

　　Recorded in the epic...

　　If this monkey were to reveal the matter of this fragment of true spirit...

　　Crap!

　　My date!

　　Just then, Wei Yuan's phone rang, a specially set ringtone. For example, Nü Jiao's ringtone was the theme from *Final Destination*. This gentle Shenzhou ancient music meant a call from Jue.

　　Wuzhi Qi turned his head, puzzled.

　　Wei Yuan looked up at Wuzhi Qi and saw the latter in contemplation, seemingly about to realize something. Without changing his expression, Wei Yuan grabbed the mask and smacked it directly onto the face of the sword-wielding Rama, blocking Wuzhi Qi's view.

　　The force was so great that the sword-wielding Rama was knocked unconscious.

　　His nose bridge was broken.

　　The drunken monkey asked, puzzled, "Why did you..."

　　"No reason, I just thought his face deserved a beating," Wei, the museum curator, said without changing his expression.

　　"Water Lord, do you want a drink?"

　　Wei Yuan pulled out a bottle of divine-era wine.

　　He popped the cap with his thumb.

　　With a flick of his right hand and an impeccable smile, he shoved the bottle into Wuzhi Qi's mouth.

　　Wuzhi Qi: "??!"

　　Wei, the museum curator, turned his right hand into a palm, using the "Veda Offering Flowers" technique, supporting the monkey's chin with his right palm and lifting it straight up. Wuzhi Qi instinctively tilted his head back, and Wei Yuan used his left hand to create a vortex, accelerating the wine directly down his throat.

　　Divine-era wine, produced by Bai Ze, obtained through blackmail.

　　Originally intended for the Old Celestial Master.

　　"What a pity..."

　　Wei Yuan murmured regretfully, watching the empty bottle.

　　Bang!

　　Wuzhi Qi, already at his limit, collapsed to the ground. His golden pupils were filled with confusion. The wine bottle didn't look big, but Wei Yuan's containers were usually blessed with the Thirty-Six Transformations, specifically the magic of *Pot Sky*.

　　And his *Pot Sky*, through long-term practice, had almost been upgraded to the level of *Universe in the Sleeve*.

　　The Huai River Fiend, Wuzhi Qi, was out for the count.

　　Wei Yuan slowly exhaled, tossing the bottle away.

　　His expression was solemn.

　　No one can know about my dark history.

　　Although this has nothing to do with me at all.

　　He took out his phone and was about to answer when he noticed the movement in front of him.

　　Hanuman, who had been knocked down by Wuzhi Qi, seemed to recognize Wei Yuan's true spirit aura. His face showed panic as he said, "You, you are also Ro..." Before he could finish, Wei Yuan calmly tossed the phone into the air. Using the *Soaring Golden Light* technique, he instantly closed the distance. He used his left hand to perform the *Heavenly Dipper* Divine Power, *Moving Stars and Shifting Constellations*, pressing down on the monkey's head. His right hand formed a fist.

　　Infused with the Heavenly Dipper Divine Power and the force of *Turning Rivers and Overturning Seas*.

　　He slammed it hard into Hanuman's abdomen.

　　Die, you bastard!

　　The immense shockwave directly pierced through Hanuman, soaring into the sky like an angry dragon, leaving radioactive-like impact traces on the ground.

　　Hanuman's eyes rolled back as he clutched his stomach and collapsed to his knees, his forehead hitting the ground, unable to rise again.

　　Wei, the museum curator, slowly exhaled.

　　No one can know about my dark history.

　　He raised his hand, caught the phone, and pressed the answer button. His tone was calm: "Jue?"

　　"Yes, it's me."

　　"Where am I?"

　　Wei Yuan whispered with a smile, looking around at the ravaged scene, the ancient Indian heroes lying half-dead, blood flowing, Hanuman kneeling and burning out, foaming at the mouth, Wuzhi Qi drunk and confused, his hands twitching, a scene of devastation after a nuclear bombardment.

　　Wei Yuan casually took out a lollipop from his pocket and put it in his mouth.

　　Without changing his expression, he said in a gentle tone:

　　"...Looking at the scenery."

　　……………………

　　After finishing the call with Jue, Wei Yuan dragged the sword-wielding Rama to a small forest.

　　He woke him up with two quick strikes.

　　After learning the origin of this true spirit, looking at him, his expression became somewhat complex. This was during the Tang Dynasty when new scriptures of Neo-Brahmanism were compiled because, historically, there had never been a truly great Rama kingdom. The only two heroic monarchs in Northern Indian history were Emperor Ashoka of the Maurya Dynasty and King Harsha.

　　This Rama was just a fabricated history, a fabricated myth.

　　There was no historical basis.

　　For example, Fu Hao in legends, the kings of the Shang Dynasty, were history in Shenzhou.

　　But contemporary civilizations had to be attributed to the age of mythology.

　　Even his past, his merits, his pride, were only there to flesh out the identity of this sword-wielding Rama. His existence was to drive away enemies for the Trimurti, as a sword, to cleanse the arrogant Kshatriyas from the earth twenty-one times and maintain the rule of the Brahmins.

　　Even his wife was just an illusion.

　　How pathetic.

　　When Wei Yuan withdrew his hand, Rama, understanding his fate, dispersed with a mournful curse of the gods.

　　The part belonging to the gods flew away, and the fabricated part dissipated.

　　The part of Chen Yuan remaining on the Harsha's sword instinctively wanted to return.

　　But Wei Yuan refused.

　　He didn't want to take back this part of the true spirit at all.

　　Wei Yuan naturally dissipated this part of the true spirit.

　　He didn't need someone else's life, and he didn't need fabricated epics and myths.

　　He just lamented, couldn't even a split spirit escape the fate of being single?

　　He stood up calmly. Hanuman had been severely injured by Wuzhi Qi's close-range staff attack, and then finished off by Wei Yuan's ruthless strike. Wei Yuan dragged Wuzhi Qi back to where the Old Ox was. The Great Green Ox looked at Wei Yuan in confusion.

　　Wei Yuan said without changing his expression, "He drank too much."

　　The Green Ox smiled helplessly.

　　Looking at the sword in Wei Yuan's right hand, a divine weapon from the time of King Harsha of ancient India, it radiated a scorching divine aura. Even the well-informed Green Ox couldn't help but take a few more glances, unable to help but praise, "A sword with the concept of the Sun God. This sword itself represents a part of the mythical concept."

　　"It's a rare divine weapon."

　　"Yes."

　　Wei Yuan said with a smile and pride, "A friend gave it to me."

　　The Green Ox looked at his smug look and couldn't help but shake his head and smile.

　　Wei Yuan held the sword in his right hand and gently stroked the blade with his left. Under the pull of the aura, the core of the divine weapon was leaping with joy, and the traces that had accumulated over the long years gradually collapsed. The blade was still as bright and sharp as ever, exuding a moving edge and sharpness. And the divinity and spirituality of this sword actively accepted Wei Yuan as its new master.

　　"Harsha's Sword."

　　Wei Yuan whispered. This sword carried the identity of King Harsha, the last emperor who unified Northern India, a culmination of classical Indian culture, whose reputation was comparable to Emperor Ashoka of the Maurya Dynasty. If compared to Shenzhou, it would probably be the same status as the Tai'a Sword.

　　Of course, that big beard definitely couldn't beat Zheng, the First Emperor.

　　Wei Yuan added in his heart.

　　Friends are friends, brothers are brothers, but Zheng is Zheng. There's no way around that.

　　We'll keep things separate.

　　If that big beard knew what he was thinking, he would definitely curse. That guy unified many kingdoms in his youth and knew the swearing languages of various countries. Wei Yuan couldn't help but smile, sheathing the Harsha's sword. He thought for a while and said, "Big Green, I'm going out for a while. It's rare to come here, so I want to see the places I've been to before."

　　"I'll be back later, and then we'll set off back to Shenzhou, and also let this monkey sober up."

　　"Oh right, don't worry, he seems drunk, but that's because I'm here."

　　"Once he senses a hostile aura, he'll wake up instantly."

　　Wei Yuan thought for a moment and added:

　　"If he doesn't wake up, just let him listen to this last message."

　　He casually took out a voice recorder and handed it over. Just as he was about to hand it over, he suddenly remembered something, took it back, and looked at the label on the back. He patted his forehead and apologized, "I took the wrong one, there are too many things, Big Green, wait a minute..."

　　"Let me see, is it this one? No, it's not..."

　　"Then is it this one?"

　　Wei, the museum curator, took out a pile of voice recorders from his sleeve, rummaged through them, and finally found the right one. He breathed a sigh of relief and handed it to the Old Ox with a smile, "Don't worry, he'll wake up immediately, no matter how soundly he's sleeping."

　　The Green Ox stared at the pile of identical voice recorders in Wei Yuan's sleeve, his eyes strange.

　　Wei Yuan patted his sleeves, turned and left.

　　To seek the places Xuanzang had once been.

　　And then return to Shenzhou.

　　The Old Green Ox looked at the white-haired youth, drunk as mud, with some curiosity. He stretched out his ox hoof, looked at the hoof that couldn't perform fine operations at all, sighed, and had to transform into a green-robed old man with a white beard and kind face. He reached out and took the thing Wei Yuan had left behind.

　　After opening it, a series of records appeared on the narrow display screen.

　　"Fox Spirit Counter-Control Record 1"

　　"Special Attack Record Against Nü Jiao - Remnants of Yu the Great's Language Recording Version 2.0"

　　"Special Record of Counter-Control Against Nü Jiao's Counter-Control - 2.1"

　　"The previous one is invalid, special attack against Nü Jiao..."

　　"The previous one is invalid again, correcting counter-control 2.1.1..."

　　Green Ox: "............"

　　The corners of the Great Green Ox's mouth twitched. Then he found the voice recording that was said to be able to directly wake up Wuzhi Qi. It seemed to have just been recorded by Wei Yuan himself. The Green Ox was a little curious, a little unconvinced. He reached out and poked Wuzhi Qi, "Monkey, monkey..."

　　"Wake up."

　　Wuzhi Qi turned over and continued to sleep.

　　The old man stroked his beard and said, "Don't want to hear the second half of the *Tao Te Ching* anymore?"

　　Wuzhi Qi snored loudly.

　　He reached out and scratched his waist.

　　The Green Ox was helpless, chuckling to himself, "A real monkey..."

　　He looked at the voice recorder in his hand, opened the last one, and clicked it.

　　Because the sound was weak, he had to put it close to Wuzhi Qi's ear.

　　Wuzhi Qi was having a great time in his dream, wreaking havoc in the Heavenly Palace, hahaha, no one can stop me, no one! I am the king of the world, I am the Great Sage Equaling Heaven!!!

　　A gentle voice whispered in his ear:

　　"I posted the video of you pretending to be the Great Sage Equaling Heaven while drunk online."

　　The half-dead, drunk Wuzhi Qi suddenly opened his eyes.

　　The snoring and breathing stopped abruptly.

　　ps: First update of the day…………