The three of them strode toward the Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple.
The closer they got to the temple, the more fervent the surrounding devotees became—hands clasped, voices trembling as they chanted Buddhist scriptures.
Their eyes burned with devotion, each recitation sounding like a whispered wish.
The more sincere the chant, the more likely it was to come true.
Naturally, the further they went, the fewer ordinary folk remained, replaced mostly by pure-hearted novice monks.
Yet these novices possessed no cultivation, not even the most basic wish-powered cultivation. Still, their journey wasn’t in vain—their pure mental energy was gathered by the roadside Buddha statues.
Sometimes, the atmosphere can blindly push people to uncontrollable extremes.
The instinct to conform, to stop thinking independently, takes over.
Humans are undeniably social creatures, and the mere act of gaining approval brings happiness.
And now, that happiness lay right before them—join in, chant along.
For the illiterate common folk, this combination was an irresistible trap, one few could escape.
Cultivators and scholars were distant, but the Buddha was near.
Moreover, the path of cultivation in the Western Oxhorn Continent was fraught with hardship.
Add to that the Central Continent’s Buddhist sects’ iron grip over the Western Oxhorn Continent, and it was no surprise Buddhism had taken such deep root.
"The Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple is the largest Buddhist temple within a thousand miles, renowned for its majestic Buddha statues and exquisite towers," Lizhi explained.
"But the people of the Western Oxhorn Continent are mostly unrestrained. As you can see, most wear plain hemp robes, undyed and unadorned."
"Ancient texts say this land was once fertile, but that was long ago—even my grandfather never saw such prosperity."
"Every inch of arable land here is used for grain, yet it still isn’t enough to feed the people. They must import at great cost from other continents. But the Western Oxhorn Continent lacks more than just food—it lacks everything."
"When you can’t even fill your stomach, who would bother growing dye crops?"
Lizhi pointed at the resplendent yellow robes adorning the towering Buddha ahead.
"Imported fabrics and silks are far too expensive, and the quantities needed are vast. But since the temple’s construction spanned decades, they found a cheaper solution."
"Aside from forcing much of the land to grow cotton and mulberry, they also cultivated some dye plants."
Her voice grew sharper. "The temple took fifty-four years to build. In that time, famine struck for at least twenty."
"The craftsmen were hired from other continents, but the laborers were locals."
"Countless lives were lost just hauling the massive stones needed for the Buddha statues."
"The temple claims it provided the workers with the cheapest meals, but in times of famine, even the cheapest food is a luxury. How could anyone sustain such backbreaking labor on starvation rations? Famine doesn’t spare you just because you’re building a temple."
"Hunger won’t spare you just because you’re devout."
"The Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple may not house ten thousand Buddhas, but at least ten thousand died building it."
"And that’s not counting those who perished in the famines."
"If the temple truly had the Buddha’s compassion, how could it turn a blind eye for fifty-four years?"
"Does a Buddha’s majesty truly represent sincerity?"
Xu Jin’s gaze lingered on the exquisitely carved, majestic Buddha and its lavish robes before shifting to the plainly dressed devotees and novices, their faces alight with genuine piety.
He said nothing, his steps unwavering.
The Buddhist sects’ greed was well-known among other immortal sects, which was why they’d united to suppress them.
Chu Xingchen looked up. The temple’s grand signboard was now visible, its sprawling complex even larger than the Xuanwu Kingdom’s imperial palace.
Two sword-wielding Bodhisattvas flanked the entrance—one stern, the other wrathful.
A sea of devotees crowded outside, chanting fervently.
These were the most devout followers, their collective wish-power surging toward the temple in a vast, invisible tide.
Yet not a single one dared step inside. They all remained a hundred paces away, kneeling or standing in reverence.
Lizhi watched as Chu Xingchen and Xu Jin led the way, cutting straight through the crowd toward the temple entrance.
They ignored the sword-bearing Bodhisattvas and the dozen brawny gatekeeper novices.
Though she knew both men were Nascent Soul-stage powerhouses, Lizhi couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Weren’t investigations supposed to be discreet? Marching openly into the enemy’s stronghold seemed recklessly bold.
Glancing at the surrounding novices, she quickened her steps and whispered,
"There are Buddhist cultivators inside. Are we really just walking in like this?"
Chu Xingchen patted her shoulder.
"Relax. If they spot us, they’re the ones who should be afraid."
Lizhi blinked. "Why?"
Xu Jin, catching on to Chu Xingchen’s style, answered—his intelligence as a core disciple of the Mysterious Purity Heavenly Sect was hardly lacking.
"Because we’ll send them to meet the Buddhas they worship."
Lizhi fell silent, stunned by the Central Continent’s brutal approach.
Truly, the Central Continent was in a league of its own.
Chu Xingchen shot Xu Jin a mildly surprised look. This serious-faced man’s wit and reflexes were sharper than expected.
Xu Jin, noticing his reaction, lifted his chin slightly. His master had warned him that Chu Xingchen’s thoughts were unconventional, full of strange ideas—but it seemed they were evenly matched.
In terms of talent, he wouldn’t lose out.
The three stepped into the temple.
Inside, the opulence only intensified. Rare woods, scarce elsewhere, were used liberally here—massive beams and pillars everywhere.
The Buddha statues were even more intricately carved.
Lizhi scanned the surroundings nervously.
Chu Xingchen’s eyes swept past the novices tending to the statues, channeling the deluge of wish-power into them.
These novices all had cultivation, albeit weak—mostly at the Qi Refining stage, fueled by wish-power.
Both Chu Xingchen and Xu Jin moved with purpose, heading straight for the main hall, where the densest concentration of wish-power swirled above like a storm cloud.
But this energy differed from what Yuan Jing had gathered.
Yuan Jing’s wish-power had a clear focus—Yuan Jing herself—and its quality was exceptional, refined by genuine devotion.
Here, the wish-power was vaguely directed at "Buddha," leaving much of it scattered and unrefined.
This crude, unfocused energy was vast but lacked cohesion. To the untrained eye, it was just a faint, indistinct flow—perfect for deceiving the masses.
But that only worked on Qi Refining amateurs. By the Foundation Establishment stage, one could see through it clearly.
Chu Xingchen turned his gaze toward Lizhi, only to notice her warily eyeing the grand hall rather than the immense stream of karmic power swirling above it.
Her subconscious focus immediately struck him as odd.
Suddenly, Chu Xingchen realized he had forgotten to ask Lizhi the simplest question:
"Can you see this karmic power?"
Xu Jin’s attention snapped toward Lizhi as well upon hearing this.
Lizhi froze, glancing around hesitantly before answering in a hushed voice,
"My cultivation level is too low... I don’t see any karmic power."