Lin Xuan's gaze settled on the old monk, and the amusement in his eyes deepened.
The old monk looked at the raging mad monk, a complex emotion difficult to describe showing in his eyes.
He intoned a Buddhist invocation. His voice was not loud, yet it rang clearly in everyone's ears, carrying a power that seemed to cleanse the soul.
"Amitabha. Master Yideng, it's time to return to the temple."
The mad monk's frenzied movements abruptly froze. A more intense struggle and pain flashed in his blood-red eyes, as though the name "Master Yideng" had touched a mark buried deep in his consciousness.
Clutching his head, he let out a pained howl. "Yideng... Who is Yideng? I'm not... I'm not... I am..."
His words were incoherent, his mind deranged.
Behind the old monk, the other eminent monks all looked sorrowful. They pressed their palms together and murmured Buddhist invocations in unison.
Hidden in the shadows, Lin Xuan finally wore an amused smile when he heard the words "Master Yideng."
The mad monk really was Master Yideng.
The Southern Emperor, Duan Zhixing.
One of the Five Greats of the world.
That eminent monk, who should have been compassionate and benevolent, saving lives and healing the wounded, had now become a raving madman who killed indiscriminately?
Interesting!
Lin Xuan quietly concealed himself beside a boulder. For the moment, he decided not to intervene and see how things unfolded.
Author's note:
Author's note: I've got something to take care of today. I'll post more tomorrow.
Madness
The wind howled through the river valley.
It stirred the withered leaves on the ground, making them rustle bleakly.
The atmosphere was tense to the extreme.
The formation laid by the seven or eight eminent monks was like an invisible net, trapping the white-robed mad monk firmly