He had lost.
The insights he had gained through a lifetime of bitter cultivation, the Great Dao he had realized over countless years—all came crashing down before those four words: "Buddha is fundamentally Dao."
He had not lost to the words themselves, but to the true meaning of the Great Dao behind them, which encompassed all paths.
"Boundless Dao Venerable! I am Li Er, a humble Daoist!" Li Er replied as calmly as ever, as though they had merely held an inconsequential debate on the Dao.
"No, impossible! You are not Li Er. You are a Sage! No one but a Sage could defeat this humble monk so easily!" Shakyamuni still stared at Li Er in disbelief.
After all, within Buddhism, even the Three Buddhas of the Three Ages could not crush him in Buddhist Dharma as Li Er had.
Hearing his words, Li Er shook his head without offering any further explanation.
At that moment, Shakyamuni seemed trapped in a nightmare, his mind reeling beyond his control.
Seeing this, everyone in Buddhism grew deeply worried, fearing that their Buddhist scion would lose hope and sink into the shadow of his defeat.
Yet it had to be said that Shakyamuni truly deserved to be called their Buddhist scion.
Within moments, compassion returned to his face, and the Buddha apparition in the void coalesced once more. This meant that his shattered Dao heart had returned.
His Dao heart had re-formed, but the momentum he had gathered could never be brought together again.
Sensing that his momentum had dissipated, he could not help sighing inwardly.
He was already preparing to return to the west.
Losing the debate on the Dao meant that his attempt to spread Buddhist Dharma eastward had also ended in failure.
Yet this eastward journey had not been meaningless.