Outside the secret chamber, Jingren was seated in meditation, chanting sutras.
"Amitabha Buddha. Congratulations on emerging from seclusion, benefactor!"
Lin Yi smiled. "No need for formalities. I'm here to fulfill my old promise. Let's talk inside."
Once they were inside and tea had been served, Monk Jingren looked at Lin Yi with barely contained excitement.
Lin Yi wasted no time. He took out the palm-leaf scripture containing the Present Tathagata Sutra and handed it to Monk Jingren.
Monk Jingren accepted it with trembling hands. Tears welled in his eyes, and he could not help but weep.
Twenty years of waiting, twenty years of holding fast—and at last he saw hope. At last he found light.
Vital energy surged through Monk Jingren, rising toward the clouds like a column of smoke. His vast martial intent swept out in all directions. At first, it held only boundless darkness: no light, no hope.
Then a lamp appeared in the darkness, lighting the road ahead and the path through a thousand lifetimes. Its unwavering devotion would never let him lose his way.
At last, Monk Jingren's martial intent became an ever-burning lamp. Its flame would be passed on, never to go out.
"Ever-Burning Lamp! My heart remains devout!"
Monk Jingren focused wholly on circulating his blood and vital energy, gathering his martial intent and spirit into one.
In the palace beside the Central Plaza of Jade Capital City, Yang Pan was reviewing memorials.
Governing a nation, directing Yin-Yang, wielding Fortune—this was among the hardest forms of cultivation in the world. Why else would those Yang Spirit masters of ancient times have gone to the trouble of becoming Holy Emperors?
Just then, Nan raised his head and stared in surprise toward the southwest of the city.
His Divine Soul left his body, flew out of