Chapter 22: The Demonic Enchantress and the Aloof Son of Buddha (8)

Louis decisively raised his knife before his chest. A few crisp, melodious "clang clang" sounds rang out. Looking down, he saw several fine white threads wrapped around the silver blade. Those threads resembled silk but shimmered with a silvery glow. Following the threads with his eyes, he realized they came from the young girl’s hand.

Louis possessed great strength, yet Fan Sijin effortlessly restrained him with one hand. Internally, Louis was startled; with this single move, he knew he was no match for the girl.

Yet, he and the others were already on the stage. To forfeit without a fight would be no better than Master Ci’s defeat! Bearing the prestige of the Kunlun Sect, he could not afford to lose face.

Sometimes, life was too burdensome—if you could fight, fight; if not, flee. It was that simple, yet these people insisted on complicating matters.

Fan Sijin smiled proudly. Her speed was so swift it blurred to the naked eye. When she finally stood still, it was clear: Master Ci had lost—and so had Louis.

Louis had intended to continue fighting, but Fan Sijin stood seven steps away, playfully blowing away the whiskers from her palm. He was shocked to find his flowing beard had been cut!

In other words, if she had intended to kill him, he would already be dead.

Louis no longer dared to keep up appearances. His face fell, and he bowed with a hand clasped: "I have lost. Your martial skill is peerless, young lady. I humbly concede." With that, he stepped down from the stage.

Fan Sijin proudly scanned the crowd and loudly declared, “I hear there’s a martial prodigy among you, a Buddhist disciple named Kong Xuan. Is that master present today? If he can defeat me, I shall forgo the position of alliance leader. But if he loses... hee hee.”

Kong Xuan? Who knew where Master Kong Xuan was! Since he was grievously injured three years ago, he had disappeared without a trace. No one knew his whereabouts, so how could anyone summon him to fight?

Ignoring the astonished expressions, Fan Sijin’s words were not truly meant for the crowd. “I know you are here. Such an important martial assembly—how could you, the compassionate Buddhist disciple, not appear? Kong Xuan, if you don’t come out, I will slaughter everyone!”

Having spoken, she flicked a thread from her finger, sending it flying toward the moonlight below the stage.

Moonlight was skilled in martial arts but paled in comparison to Fan Sijin. She could only watch helplessly as the thread sliced through the air toward her chest—when suddenly, the scent of sandalwood filled her nose, and a familiar, towering figure blocked the thread.

For a moment, Moonlight’s eyes welled with tears, her heart aching, unsure how to address the figure before her.

Fan Sijin curiously studied Kong Xuan.

He was as gentle as jade, with deep, dark eyes like still water, exuding a sacred aura. Standing on one hand, the other held her silk thread, and he calmly uttered, “Amitabha.”

With Kong Xuan’s appearance, the crowd’s emotions surged. His presence gave them a steady anchor—finally, someone to take charge.

No one doubted Kong Xuan; he was the incarnation of the Buddha, bearing suffering for the salvation of all beings.

When he appeared, all the noise ceased—the world became peaceful and pure.

“Ha!” Xiao Xiao’s mocking sneer shattered the calm.

“Isn’t this the ungrateful Buddhist disciple? So you’re not dead after all? Oh... that makes sense. Though you killed the one who saved you, you were truly poisoned by the blood pill—no wonder, no wonder.”

Unfazed by the sharp derision, Kong Xuan’s gaze remained resolute, as if his heart was immersed in tranquility.

Moonlight could no longer hold back and whispered the familiar name: “Brother Xun...”

Bai Xun was Kong Xuan’s secular name. Once, he was accustomed to it, but now was different. He stepped back two paces, voice calm: “I am Kong Xuan by dharma name. Please, sister, do not call me otherwise.”

A wave of profound sorrow washed over Moonlight. She stepped forward pleadingly: “Are you still blaming me? For Tan Tan’s passing...”

“Yesterday’s events are like yesterday’s death,” Kong Xuan replied simply and firmly. Then, with a swift motion, he ascended the stage.

Facing Fan Sijin, he clasped his hands and said earnestly, “I ask you, young master, to show mercy and spare these innocent lives.”

Fan Sijin taunted, “Can you defeat me? Only if you win, then we can talk.”

Kong Xuan answered calmly, “What does winning or losing matter? If you wish to kill me, then do so.”

He was willing to sacrifice himself to save others.

Fan Sijin laughed coldly, “Such a compassionate Buddhist disciple, huh? Trying to emulate the Buddha by cutting flesh to feed the eagles? You’ve killed before—what’s with the act of mercy?”

Her tone darkened, “When you shattered Tan Tan’s heart meridian with one palm, you showed no kindness! Your beloved was a living person; was Tan Tan not? She was your benefactor! You, an ungrateful wretch, come here babbling about saving all beings—I spit on that!”

Fan Sijin’s relentless accusations flushed Moonlight’s cheeks with shame and anger. Impulsively, she lunged with her sword, “You lying demon!”

Before she could step onto the stage, Kong Xuan’s robe sleeve flicked gently. The force sent her sprawling backward, saved only by the support of her fellow disciples.

She looked at Kong Xuan, shock and sorrow filling her eyes.

This man, once her Brother Xun, now felt like a stranger. Her lips trembled; her heart had been brutally shaken.

Fan Sijin was surprised by Kong Xuan’s intervention and was about to retort when he spoke: “In martial skill, young master surpasses me. I cannot contend with her.”

This stunned everyone!

If anyone ranked first in the world, it was Master Kong Xuan. Yet he humbly admitted defeat—astounding all. Who else could restrain Fan Sijin?

Kong Xuan, the noble and revered master, had conceded. Yet this was not unexpected to Qing Huan.

She smiled. “I’ve heard you, as a Buddhist disciple, cultivated iron skin, impervious to all poisons, radiating Buddha’s light—truly a favored child of Buddha. How about this: come with me, and I’ll spare these people. What say you? The Buddha says, ‘If you don’t enter hell, who will?’ Sacrifice yourself to save many—isn’t that worthwhile?”

Master Kong Jing quickly interjected, “Brother, don’t! This woman belongs to the demonic cult, not our kind. Do not trust her words!”

Hearing “demonic cult,” Kong Xuan’s eyes filled with overwhelming guilt, and he nodded: “I will go with the young master then.”