The unease in Wang Xuanfeng's heart immediately intensified.
Just then, golden light scattered in all directions. Within Luohan Temple, the damaged Arhat Bell clutched in the hand of Shenzang's Buddha statue transformed into a streak of golden light and shot into the sky.
In but an instant, the Arhat Bell arrived outside Luohan Temple and hovered in midair.
Wang Xuanfeng and Xu Qing guarded against each other, yet both kept their eyes fixed firmly on the Arhat Bell.
Golden light surged, and Lin Xuan's figure slowly emerged within it.
At this moment, he held a divine spear, with the powers of wind, fire, lightning, and gold intertwined around it.
Above his head floated a fist-sized Sharira, erupting with incomparably powerful fluctuations.
Golden Rosy Cloud poured down from the heavens, turning the entire region where Luohan Temple stood into a vast expanse of gold.
"Lin Xuan!"
Wang Xuanfeng was overjoyed. The instant he saw Lin Xuan, his heart immediately settled.
Yet to his surprise, Lin Xuan paid him no heed, merely casting him a faint glance.
Xu Qing keenly noticed the problem, and joy instantly filled his heart.
He stepped forward and bowed deeply to Lin Xuan with utmost respect. "Junior disciple Xu Qing pays respects to the Martial Ancestor Abbot."
"What?"
Wang Xuanfeng froze, his face suddenly darkening as a dreadful premonition arose in his heart.
"Amitābha!"
"Xu Qing, thanks for the effort!"
Lin Xuan held one palm upright before his chest as his indifferent voice rang out.
"It is all what this disciple should do!"
Xu Qing hurriedly replied. Raising his head, his eyes were filled with reverence.
"You old bald donkey, what have you done?"
Power surged around Wang Xuanfeng as he roared fiercely.
"Amitābha!"
"Greed that knows no bounds is like a snake trying to swallow an