Chapter 6: Illusory Dharmakaya  

Uncle?  

Uncle…  

Su Han Sheng was utterly stunned.  

In his past life, Chong Jue had been wicked, picking up all sorts of lewd and vulgar phrases from who-knows-where, always forcing him to call out strange and inappropriate titles in bed.  

Su Han Sheng, being a little madman himself, knew nothing of social graces. He would call out whatever he was told without a hint of shame—eccentric and unrestrained.  

But now, this proper and respectful “Uncle”…  

No.  

In his past life, Chong Jue had been a monstrous figure, consumed by lust and bloodshed, a born demon through and through. How could he possibly be the compassionate World Honored One of Mount Sumeru?!  

Seeing Su Han Sheng frozen in place, Xie Shizhi coughed lightly.  

Su Han Sheng’s thoughts were in chaos. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he choked unexpectedly, coughing violently.  

“Cough… cough…”  

The onlookers exchanged uneasy glances.  

Su Han Sheng’s Divine Soul was already unstable, and after being shaken twice by Chong Jue in succession, his coughing became so severe it nearly tore his lungs apart. The metallic taste of blood rose in his throat, and he felt as though his soul might cough itself right out of his body and float away as a wisp of ghostly mist.  

Xie Shizhi frowned and steadied him. “Young Master?”  

Su Han Sheng coughed until his face was streaked with tears, his pale lips tinged with a sickly crimson, as if stained with blood. His amber eyes, glazed with unshed tears, fixed on Chong Jue.  

Chong Jue’s dark green eyes were cool and detached, like an Immortal who had transcended the Three Realms.  

Even as Su Han Sheng coughed hard enough to scramble his brains, Chong Jue showed not the slightest reaction.  

Su Han Sheng finally gathered his scattered thoughts and bowed respectfully. “Uncle.”  

At last, Chong Jue lifted his eyelids to regard him coldly. His jade-like fingers rose slightly, and a small jade bell materialized in his palm, carried by a gentle breeze to land before Su Han Sheng.  

Su Han Sheng froze.  

Xu Nan Xian and Xie Shizhi had spoken of how indulgent the World Honored One had been toward him in his childhood, but judging by Chong Jue’s current demeanor, he didn’t even seem willing to exchange a single word with him.  

Su Han Sheng’s cough-addled brain struggled to function, belatedly recalling his own actions in the dense forest earlier.  

Buddhist cultivators sought to deliver all beings…  

Chong Jue must have taken him for a murderous fiend.  

The thought made Su Han Sheng even more aggrieved.  

In his past life, Chong Jue had killed as easily as drinking water. The corpses hanging from the withered trees outside the Forbidden Hall had all been his handiwork.  

And now? Suddenly, he was all about universal salvation.  

Su Han Sheng pursed his lips and held out his hands. The jade bell, no larger than a fingertip, landed in his palm with a soft chime.  

“Thank you… Uncle.”  

Chong Jue’s dark green eyes flickered slightly before he lowered his gaze and resumed sipping his tea.  

Xie Shizhi, however, frowned faintly, sensing something amiss.  

The World Honored One had always been compassionate, like a celestial being untouched by mortal affairs. In his thousand years of life, he had only a handful of close friends.  

Back when Su Xuan Lin had perished, no one had been able to suppress the Bone Affliction tormenting Su Han Sheng. The Bone Fire had left the six-year-old child bedridden with a high fever for half a month. Yet despite suffering backlash from an unresolved tribulation, the World Honored One had traveled thousands of miles from Mount Sumeru to care for him tirelessly.  

Just yesterday, when Xie Shizhi had gone to serve tea, he had caught a glimpse of a lotus-patterned jade box beside the World Honored One. Inside lay a string of crystal prayer beads, its end adorned with two amber beads of demonic flower honey.  

It seemed to be a birthday gift for Su Han Sheng.  

But now that they had met, Chong Jue remained silent, and the birthday gift had been replaced with this strange jade bell.  

Xie Shizhi, who managed the vast Echoing Warmth Sect, was far more perceptive than most. Suppressing his doubts, he guided Su Han Sheng to a guest seat and exchanged a few pleasantries.

A man dressed in dazzling golden robes—Su Han Sheng couldn’t recall which sect’s master he was—exclaimed with admiration, “Truly, heroes emerge from the young! At such a tender age, Han Sheng already possesses such cultivation. He truly takes after the Profound Advent Immortal Lord.”

Xie Shizhi shot him a cold glance.

Reaching the Qi Refining Stage at sixteen, taking after Su Xuan Lin…

Wasn’t this just a roundabout way of insulting the Profound Advent Immortal Lord?

The crowd seemed oblivious and continued their flattery.

“Indeed, his talent is extraordinary.”

“I heard the Enlightenment Academy has sent the Young Master a Ranking Poster. At this year’s September Enlightenment Rite, the Young Master is sure to astonish everyone.”

Su Han Sheng sensed something amiss, realizing these old foxes weren’t solely here for Su Xuan Lin’s Mount Sumeru Mustard. They seemed more interested in probing the World Honored One of Mount Sumeru’s attitude toward the son of his late friend.

Chong Jue’s cold demeanor toward him visibly relieved several sect leaders who had been fawning over Xie Shizhi earlier.

Why the relief?

Naturally, they believed that even if they dared to act against Su Han Sheng in the future, the World Honored One wouldn’t intervene on his behalf.

Su Han Sheng’s mind was a tangled web of thoughts, and the forced pleasantries with the crowd only deepened his irritation.

Xie Shizhi said calmly, “The Young Master rarely ventures out. Since it’s his birthday, he should visit Denmo Shrine to offer incense for the Immortal Lord.”

The birthday celebration was merely a pretext. No one present truly dared to treat Su Han Sheng as a junior, forcing him to entertain guests with smiles at the front hall. Hearing this, they all chimed in.

“Yes, it’s only proper.”

Finally free to leave, Su Han Sheng stepped out of the hall and, on impulse, glanced back.

Chong Jue was no longer there.

Only a cup of steaming tea remained on the table, its vapor curling upward.

Xu Nan Xian, who had been waiting for some time, strode forward eagerly. “Did you see the World Honored One? Is he as transcendent as the rumors say, the kind that makes you want to renounce the world at first sight?”

Su Han Sheng: “…”

Su Han Sheng gave him a weary look. “He’s… alright, I suppose.”

“Tsk, you don’t know how lucky you are.” Xu Nan Xian held up an umbrella for him. “Why did you come out so soon?”

“Elder Xie told me to go to Denmo Shrine to offer incense for the Profound Advent Immortal Lord.”

Xu Nan Xian was used to him not calling Su Xuan Lin “Father.” “Are you going?”

“Let whoever wants to go, go.” Su Han Sheng’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and the earlier shock to his Divine Soul left him feeling nauseous and suffocated. He said listlessly, “I want to go back and sleep.”

Seeing his pale, sickly complexion, Xu Nan Xian frowned and touched his forehead, immediately recoiling from the heat. “Is the poison flaring up?”

Su Han Sheng shook his head.

The poison would strike tomorrow; today was just the prelude.

Xu Nan Xian immediately set everything aside and hurriedly escorted him back to Frosty Expanse Garden by wind. The moment they landed, he urged Chang Kong to prepare medicine.

Su Han Sheng climbed weakly onto the bed, feeling something lodged in his throat—unable to be coughed up—and his entire body wracked with discomfort.

The jade bell gifted by Chong Jue hung from a withered branch by the bed, tinkling without any wind.

Though the sound was crisp, it only grated on Su Han Sheng’s nerves, amplifying his agitation.

His head throbbed with pain, and the moment he closed his eyes, fragmented scenes flashed before him—Chong Jue in his past life embracing him from behind, teaching him with a low laugh how to snap necks, alternating with the image of the white-robed World Honored One seated loftily, gazing down at him coldly.

The black-clad evil and the white-clad saint flickered relentlessly in his mind.

Su Han Sheng suddenly sat up, grabbed the jade bell, and hurled it away in frustration.

“Shut up!”

Xu Nan Xian, carrying medicine, nearly got hit and frowned. “Who are you talking to?”

Su Han Sheng’s eyes were rimmed red, his soul nearly drifting out of his body. The jade bell that had been thrown away continued to chime incessantly. Covering his ears, he whimpered, “It’s too loud… Senior Brother, throw that bell away. I don’t want to hear it…”

Xu Nan Xian, puzzled, flicked his fingers and tossed the jade bell out the window.

Only then did silence return to Su Han Sheng’s ears.

Xu Nan Xian stepped forward and handed him the medicine. “Drink this before sleeping.”

The pungent medicinal smell nearly made Su Han Sheng vomit. He buried his face in Xu Nan Xian’s chest, feigning death to avoid drinking it.

Xu Nan Xian grabbed the back of his ink-black hair and yanked it back, smirking. “Just yesterday you promised to behave, and now you can’t even last a day?”

Reluctantly, Su Han Sheng took the medicine bowl—larger than his face—and downed the scalding liquid in one gulp.

The spiritual medicine meant to suppress the Bone Affliction was unbearably bitter. Su Han Sheng’s lashes were damp with tears, yet he still held up the empty bowl for Xu Nan Xian to see. “Look, Senior Brother… I drank it all.”

Xu Nan Xian couldn’t help but laugh, though the laughter soon gave way to an inexplicable pang of sorrow.

He produced a piece of dried apricot from somewhere and stuffed it into Su Han Sheng’s mouth, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “Sleep now. Senior Brother is here.”

Su Han Sheng nodded obediently and lay back down.

Xu Nan Xian drew the light-blocking bed curtains layer by layer, his gaze darkening as he stared at the coffin-like bed.

—They needed to find a cure for the Marrow Poison as soon as possible.

Rumors said that the thirteenth layer of the Secret Realm in the Enlightenment Rite might harbor a stalk of Eternal Ember Grass. If they could retrieve it, it might temporarily suppress the Bone Affliction.

***

Su Han Sheng curled up in the narrow, dimly lit bed and slept like the dead. Unusually, this time his dreams weren’t filled with headless vengeful spirits but rather fleeting, ambiguous visions of spring.

In the dream, it was the opulent Forbidden Hall of Avici Hell.

Someone gripped his slender ankle, pressing close to bite down savagely on his neck. Outside the hall, the Lifebound Tree writhed like ghostly withered vines, trembling violently as if upheaving mountains and seas.

Dazed and adrift in a sea of desire, Su Han Sheng suddenly heard a deep, hoarse voice whisper in his ear.

“Call me.”

Without thinking, Su Han Sheng murmured, “Chong Jue.”

Too many past experiences had taught him that if he hesitated even slightly, the man biting his neck would torment him to the point of fainting three times in one night.

Chong Jue chuckled lowly. “Wrong.”

Tears streaked Su Han Sheng’s face as he opened his foggy amber eyes in confusion. “W-what?”

The black silk covering Chong Jue’s eyes had been removed—Su Han Sheng hated when he wore it, claiming it ruined the mood. His eerie white pupils, like snow atop a mountain peak, were filled with covetous desire and suffocating dominance.

“Call me…”

The man leaned down to press a light kiss to Su Han Sheng’s tear-stained eyelid, then uttered two words with a low laugh.

“Uncle.”

“Ah—!”

Su Han Sheng jolted awake in terror.

A ringing echoed in his ears, interspersed with faint chimes of a bell. His dazed eyes, still clouded with fear, took a long moment to focus as he gasped for breath.

“Uncle…” Su Han Sheng’s Divine Soul was already unstable, and this nightmare had nearly scared the life out of him. Weakly collapsing onto the pillow, he muttered, “Uncle my ass.”

The man he’d slept with for years in his past life had suddenly become his uncle.

Even someone as shameless as Su Han Sheng couldn’t handle that.

Outside, night had fallen, the moon hanging above the treetops.

Su Han Sheng lay listlessly for a while before weakly pushing aside the bed curtains to ask for water.

But after waiting, the Lifebound Tree gave no response.

Su Han Sheng staggered off the bed as moonlight spilled in, faintly revealing candlelight in the outer chamber.

“Chang Kong? Senior Brother?”

No one answered.

Barefoot, Su Han Sheng stepped out of the inner chamber. Just as he lifted the light-blocking bamboo curtain, a sharp, cold fragrance suddenly assailed his senses.

The outer hall of Frosty Expanse Garden was lit by a single lamp, illuminating the vast room. Beside the writing desk hung a calligraphy piece—”Sword’s Courage, Zither’s Heart.”

It was a piece his eldest senior brother had inscribed for him years ago.

Su Han Sheng looked up and froze abruptly.

Chong Jue sat beneath the calligraphy in cyan robes, his demeanor transcendent and bones refined. A small jade hand-warmer rested on the table beside him, wisps of white mist curling upward, mingling with the icy scent of snow that gradually permeated the surroundings.

It was unclear how long he had been there.

Su Han Sheng stood dazed for a long moment before snapping back to reality. The question that had puzzled him endlessly finally had its answer.

He knew it!

Chong Jue appeared ascetic and compassionate, but in truth, he was duplicitous and two-faced. Cold and indifferent by day, yet sneaking in under cover of night to seek him out.

No wonder he kept his hair long and never entered monastic life.

Clearly, his six roots were far from purified.

Having solved this mystery, Su Han Sheng hurried over barefoot.

But as he drew near, a belated sense of unease struck him.

Throughout the vast Frosty Expanse Garden, countless jade bells surrounded Chong Jue, suspended in midair like a spider’s web. As Su Han Sheng’s presence approached, they suddenly erupted into a chorus of crisp chimes.

The Lifebound Tree outside, long silent, now swayed violently. Dappled shadows and fractured light fell upon Chong Jue’s stern face, casting an eerie calm before the storm.

Su Han Sheng stared blankly at the dense array of jingling jade bells in the room and finally recognized them…

They weren’t birthday gifts at all—they were Warding Bells for exorcism.

The incense Chong Jue had lit had an unknown effect. With just one whiff, Su Han Sheng felt his body grow weak, his already unstable soul seemingly dragged outward by the thin white mist. Black spots began to dance before his eyes.

Chong Jue remained seated, his gaze as serene as an ancient Buddha’s meditation.

A single cold glance from him felt like a thousand temple bells crashing overhead.

Su Han Sheng’s vision darkened. “Un… Uncle…”

Only after this address did Chong Jue slowly rise. His plain white robes trailed the ground as an inexplicable wind filled his wide sleeves, making him resemble an ethereal Immortal ascending to the heavens.

Chong Jue raised two fingers and pointed lightly.

The twisting white smoke from the Dustfall Incense surged toward Su Han Sheng like a coiling dragon.

—That was Mount Sumeru’s incense for dispelling demons and subduing evil.

The ephemeral mist solidified into unbreakable chains, coiling around Su Han Sheng’s wrists, ankles, waist, and neck, hoisting him into the air until his toes barely grazed the ground.

The jade bells continued their relentless chime.

Chong Jue’s ink-green eyes held only detached compassion, devoid of any trace of the intimacy they had shared in the dream.

“You are not Xiao Xiao.”

Young and slight, Su Han Sheng was dwarfed by Chong Jue’s stature. Suspended three inches off the ground by the Dustfall Incense, he could barely meet his gaze.

Bewildered, he stammered, “Wh-what?”

“All phenomena are transient, the Dharmakaya illusory.”

Chong Jue recited the scripture as if seeing through Su Han Sheng’s flesh to his Divine Soul, his voice indifferent.

“…Just a Body-snatching ghost.”