"Take the tonsure!?"
Chen Bufan, seated cross-legged above the sea of blood, suddenly opened his eyes.
The white-robed figure standing at the edge of the blood sea bowed slightly, his voice passing through the mask.
"Yes, Holy Son. Though you have already saved ten billion living beings and accumulated merit unmatched throughout the ages, to ensure nothing goes wrong, you must still take the tonsure and become a monk. Only then can the Bodhisattva descend without any reservations."
"Impossible!" Chen Bufan refused sharply without a second thought.
He raised a hand to touch his cascading long hair, and a rare trace of tenderness appeared in his eyes.
"If I shave my head, what if Meier can no longer recognize me?"
"But, Holy Son, what if—" The white-robed figure still tried to persuade him.
"There is no what if!" Chen Bufan abruptly cut him off, the vicious aura around him erupting at once.
"I slaughtered nearly ten billion living beings with my own hands. In the entire Northern Abyss Star Sector, whose sins of slaughter can compare to mine? If the White Bone Bodhisattva doesn't choose me, who else could he choose!?"
His voice was filled with absolute confidence, even carrying a touch of arrogance.
The white-robed figure opened his mouth, then quietly corrected him.
"Not sins of slaughter, Holy Son. You are saving the people and accumulating supreme merit."
"Heh." Chen Bufan let out a scornful laugh.
He could no longer be bothered to argue against such hypocritical self-deception.
He did not care about merit, nor did he care about the Bodhisattva's descent.
He had always done all of this for only one purpose.
As long as Su Meier could come back to life, let alone killing ten billion people—even if he had to slaughter the entire Linghuan Realm—he would