Jieyin and Zhunti Were Beside Themselves with Rage, Yet Dared Not Face Lin Yue Head-On

Spiritual Mountain, Lotus Platform Hall.

The Buddha-light had dimmed, and the spiritual mist had grown thin. Even the Glazed Lamp, which had burned for ten thousand years without ever going out, now swayed in the wind, its light flickering on and off. Shadows filled the hall, which was steeped in a bleak, desolate air.

Buddha Ancestor Jieyin sat cross-legged atop the Nine-Rank Lotus Platform. His face was as pale as paper, and golden blood still clung to the corner of his mouth. It was a sign that his source had been damaged by the combined impact of the Great Dao's backlash and the sudden loss of the Power of Faith. The Buddha-light around him flickered like a candle in the wind, gathering and then scattering. Each time it scattered, his body shuddered violently, showing the immense pain he was enduring.

Zhunti paced anxiously back and forth through the hall, clutching the Qingping Staff so tightly that it groaned under the strain. His already narrow, triangular eyes had become slits, and his gaze seethed with towering rage and venomous resentment, mixed with a hint of fear and misgiving he could not conceal. These opposing emotions twisted his face into a particularly savage grimace.

"Damn it! Damn it!"

Zhunti stopped abruptly and slammed the Qingping Staff into the floor with a dull crash. Several jagged cracks instantly split the hard golden-brick floor. The Eighteen Arhats in the hall flinched at his sudden outburst and hastily lowered their heads, not daring even to breathe too loudly.

"Lin Yue! Su Qingyan!" Zhunti ground out, his voice sounding as if it were squeezed through clenched teeth, thick with hatred. "How dare you treat our Western Teachings this way! You ruined our plans to spread the faith and destroyed the foundation of our faith! I, Zhunti,