Yellow Skinned Taoist Master

Chapter 71: The Bell, the Purple Fire, and the Relic

The moment the Evil Buddha Head opened its mouth, Chen Huangpi felt something was wrong. His head erupted in splitting pain.

A thought surfaced — a thought of shaving his head and becoming a monk — a thought of conversion.

Before this, the concept had not existed anywhere in his mind. He had never so much as seen a monk.

"Aaaaaah!"

Chen Huangpi clutched his head and cried out in agony.

Master was a Daoist. He was absolutely not becoming a monk.

"Chen Huangpi — what's going on?!"

The brass oil lamp dared not stop the Divine Flash, but it was urgently worried about Chen Huangpi's condition. It couldn't understand a word the Evil Buddha was chanting. It seemed conversion had its own threshold — not just anyone could be pulled in.

Chen Huangpi cried out in pain: "Huang Er — I feel terrible. I don't want to be a monk. Master is a Daoist — I want to be a Daoist too!"

"What?!"The brass oil lamp only now grasped that the Evil Buddha was trying to convert Chen Huangpi.

Fury and shock hit it at once.

If Guanzhu ever found out his most precious disciple was being turned into a monk — he'd be livid beyond all reason.

Right — Guanzhu!

The brass oil lamp felt something click.

"Chen Huangpi — there's only one option left."

"Call out with everything you have. Yell for Third Master to save you."

Third Master had not yet left the Old Temple. He was still somewhere in here. Even if Chen Huangpi calling for help — even if Third Master was consumed by the most pressing matter in the world — he couldn't ignore a plea like this. Not for this.

Hearing this, Chen Huangpi looked upward — but saw no sign of Third Master, only the dense, impenetrable cyan mist.

He had thought of calling for help long ago. But his purpose in coming here was to bring away Golden-Horn or Silver-Horn, to descend to the Yellow Springs, find the Soul-Returning Jade, and save First Master and Second Master's souls. The whole point was to stop Third Master from leaving the Old Temple. Would Third Master actually intervene if he called?

Chen Huangpi didn't know — but he knew he absolutely did not want to convert to the Evil Buddha. Because he only had one master.

"Third Master — save me!!!"

"I don't want to shave my head!"

"I don't want to convert!"

"Third Master — it wants to cut off my hair!!!!"

Chen Huangpi screamed with every last breath in his body.

But just as before — no response.

The brass oil lamp was frozen: "How can this be? Why isn't Third Master doing anything?"

Chen Huangpi felt a bitterness settle in, and his head dropped. He murmured: "Master — do you not care about me anymore?"

As he said it, the sadness deepened.

"No — Master wouldn't not care. It's Third Master who doesn't care." "If it were First Master and Second Master, they would never let me suffer like this."

The words landed.

Suddenly, everything around them went utterly, completely silent.

The Evil Buddha Head's mouth opened and closed — but not a single sound passed through.

Because the Nine Separation Bell had been struck.

World-piercing, sky-rending, a sound threaded through with agony, distortion, and madness — the bell rang out!

DONG!!!

The moment the Nine Separation Bell sounded — the entire world went still.

The Evil Buddha's conversion chanting vanished completely against the bell's toll.

Every time the Nine Separation Bell rang, the Old Temple fell into absolute silence. Any stirring evil spirit — whether it prostrated itself on the ground, crawled into a corner, or simply dared not move — all fell still.

Before the Nine Separation Bell rang, any sound in the Old Temple could exist. Evil spirits could do whatever they wished. But once the Nine Separation Bell tolled — they could only remain silent. Because inside the Old Temple, only one sound was permitted to exist.

The brass oil lamp was overjoyed and said immediately: "Chen Huangpi — stop worrying! We're saved!"

"Why would I be worried?"

"Huh? Your words sounded so sorrowful — just hearing them made me feel indignant on your behalf. Were you not sad?"

"I said it on purpose. Why would I be sad."

Chen Huangpi raised his head, his face showing not even a fraction of sorrow.

Just as — when speaking of Third Master in front of First and Second Master, they would call Third Master out and curse him in response;

in front of Third Master, naturally the same logic applied.

Chen Huangpi knew his master far too well. Third Master was also his master. One line — 'if it were First Master and Second Master they definitely wouldn't see me suffer' — no matter how pressing Third Master's business, no matter how set he was on breaking free from the Old Temple, he couldn't withstand that kind of blow.

"Look — this Evil Buddha is going to get it now!"

The brass oil lamp was delighting in the turn of events. It wasn't worried at all. The moment Third Master intervened, this Evil Buddha — however capable it might be — was going to be put in the ground.

The tide had turned!

Chen Huangpi looked toward the Evil Buddha Head. It opened its giant maw wide, roaring silently at the sky. But no sound of any kind emerged. That was exactly right — in the Old Temple, only one sound could exist. And it was not the Evil Buddha's.

The next second — the Nine Separation Bell rang again!

DONG!

That bell's tone was still distorted, still maddened, still seeming to groan under some immense and ancient pain.

To Chen Huangpi's ears it sounded crisp and bright and wonderful.

But to the Evil Buddha Head — the smile wiped from its face the moment the sound hit. In its place: a twisted grimace of agony. Both ears erupted in blood.

Fear and fury blazed in its eyes.

The massive halo behind its head — threaded through with strange colors — began to spin.

That was the Buddha's nimbus. It possessed the ability to reverse time itself.

But the halo had barely begun to turn —

Dong! Dong! Dong!

Three rapid peals from the Nine Separation Bell.

BOOM!

The nimbus behind the Evil Buddha Head was shattered to fragments by the bell's shockwave on the spot.

The Evil Buddha Head reeled from the impact, its eyes bulging enormously outward — as if they might pop loose in the next second.

The Evil Buddha Head shook like a leaf in a storm. It opened and closed its giant mouth toward the sky above — as if begging for mercy.

But only round after round of bell tolls answered it.

Each one carrying fury.

One after another!

The Evil Buddha Head wailed silently, blood pouring from its eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.

It thrashed. Madly thrashed.

At one point it even seemed to bow its head toward Chen Huangpi.

But Chen Huangpi despised it utterly — there was no way he would speak up on its behalf.

The brass oil lamp had no such restraint. It gloated openly: "Worthless Buddha Head — Old Grandpa Huang is telling you — listen to this carefully — this place is the Pure Immortal Temple! Don't think that because you're just a head and you're not at your peak, that protects you. Even if your master the Buddha himself came here, if he dared bully Chen Huangpi, his head would be moved to somewhere else too!"

"Everyone knows — Third Master loves Chen Huangpi most of all."

"Though he may have a kind face and a generous heart and the patience of a saint — and though it's fair to say he is the most admired being this Huang Er has ever known in his entire life — even in madness, he will always stand up for the one he loves most!"

The brass oil lamp poured on the praise for Third Master with total reckless abandon.

One: to inflame the situation further.

Two: to take this opportunity to make a favorable impression — perhaps if Third Master truly emerged someday, hearing these few genuine-sounding, earth-shaking words of admiration, he'd go a little easier on it.

But these few words from the brass oil lamp immediately made the bell go silent.

"Wait wait wait — Third Master, please continue! I'll shut up right now!"

The brass oil lamp panicked and wrapped itself around Chen Huangpi's leg in desperation.

"Third Master?"

Chen Huangpi was equally confused.

But the Evil Buddha Head seemed to understand something had changed.

Without a moment's hesitation, it plunged downward — as if fleeing from something.

It was faster than light.

But there was something faster than it.

A column of purple true flame, as large around as a dragon, came shooting down from unimaginable heights above — and launched itself directly at the Evil Buddha Head.

Chen Huangpi was stunned: "That's First Master…"

Fire had seven colors.

First Master had always thrown him in the Nine Dragons Refining Heaven Furnace to be tempered — always using blue true fire.

But he knew: First Master also possessed purple true fire, and above that, a flame even beyond purple. First Master had simply never used those on him.

Now, even with the purple true fire so far away, Chen Huangpi could feel its terrifying heat from where he stood.

But even so — no matter how terrifying the purple true fire was — all Chen Huangpi felt from it was warmth.

The Evil Buddha Head was a different matter.

The purple true flame caught up to it in an instant, and with a single upward surge — the Evil Buddha Head ignited.

The black fleshy growths covering its head all began to burn away, melting and scorching.

The purple true flame even lit its skull. Streamers of fire surged outward from beneath its skin and burned hotter and hotter.

The Evil Buddha Head could no longer even scream.

Because its very true form was burning.

Like a falling meteor, it crashed into the earth below.

BOOM…

Smoke and dust erupted in every direction. The ground trembled.

Chen Huangpi looked, and found in the ground below a massive crater — bottomless in depth — from which wisps of purple true fire were still curling upward.

The brass oil lamp muttered in puzzlement: "First Master has acted. Third Master has acted. Can Second Master just sit by and watch?"

Though it was hard to understand how First Master — clearly outside the Old Temple — had managed to strike from that distance.

But if First Master could do it, there was no reason Third Master would just spectate, surely?

"I think Second Master may have already acted."

Chen Huangpi was uncertain. But in the instant the purple true fire had appeared, the six Yin deities taking form inside his mind — not yet fully shaped — had suddenly felt something and given a violent pulse.

The brass oil lamp looked around in all directions: "Where? I didn't see anything. You must have been imagining it."

Suddenly — CLONK.

A black stone bonked the brass oil lamp squarely on the head, out of nowhere.

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow!"

"Second Master — I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said something bad about you!"

The brass oil lamp hugged its head, teeth bared in pain.

Its core body was extraordinarily tough. The fact that a single pebble had made it cry out in pain told it everything it needed to know — this was definitely Second Master's doing. Because Second Master was the most petty and the most thoroughly mad of the three — just setting eyes on him was enough to make you afraid.

"What is this?"

Chen Huangpi looked at the black stone floating in front of him, and felt a flicker of curiosity.

"It's a sarira!"

The brass oil lamp said: "Second Master is truly ruthless. You can't even see how it was done — and yet the Evil Buddha's sarira has been plucked right out of it."

"Does an Evil Buddha's sarira have any use?"

"No idea."

That question genuinely stumped the brass oil lamp. It could recognize the object, but that didn't mean it knew what it was good for. It only felt that the thing was soaked in malignant energy — not exactly something you'd want to keep close. And yet Second Master had thrown it out here.

The meaning was perfectly plain: Second Master wanted Chen Huangpi to take it.

"I won't overthink it. Whatever Second Master gives me — it won't be something that harms me."

Chen Huangpi pocketed the Evil Buddha sarira, then looked upward and to the side.

When First Master's purple true fire had come cascading down, it had burned away everything in its path — including the cyan mist — scorching a clear corridor straight through.

At the end of that corridor, the cyan mist thinned.

And through it, the blurred outline of the Scripture Pavilion could just barely be seen.