Ye Yun grew sadder the more he thought about it. In the end, he really burst into tears with a wail. His crying completely flustered Pu Zhi. The composure and detachment he had maintained through who knew how many centuries of life utterly crumbled at that cry. He hurriedly set down his bowl and chopsticks and awkwardly tried to comfort Ye Yun. Who would have thought that Master Pu Zhi, who could face dozens of heinous demonic cultivators without changing expression, would now be left at a loss by the cries of such a little child?
Ye Yun did not know what was happening either. Once he started crying, he could not stop the tears. When he saw the panic in Pu Zhi's eyes, he cried even louder. If he did not take this chance to deepen Pu Zhi's guilt toward him, then when would he? Still, he did not dare overdo it. If Pu Zhi found him annoying and simply knocked him unconscious, he would be finished. So after crying for a while, Ye Yun gradually stopped under Pu Zhi's comforting words. Perhaps because he had cried too hard, though the sobbing had ceased, his body still twitched instinctively. Together with the tears not yet dry on his face, he looked utterly pitiful.
"Old grandpa, please eat. The food will get cold if you don't," Ye Yun urged after sniffing for a while. Pu Zhi was watching him with concern and had not eaten. Ye Yun still needed to return to his shelter later.
Pu Zhi smiled and nodded. Turning around, he picked up the meal he had set aside, now somewhat cold, and began eating it in large mouthfuls. Ye Yun could tell that he greatly enjoyed this atmosphere, and Ye Yun liked it as well. The two of them were like grandfather and grandson. If he could, he truly did not want Pu Zhi to be tempted by the Bloodthirsty Bead and turn into a murderous madman. But he was young and insignificant. Speaking up rashly might not only backfire, but would most likely get himself killed as well.
The bowl was not large to begin with, and Pu Zhi ate quickly. In two or three minutes, he had finished it. Watching Pu Zhi happily shovel down his food, Ye Yun wanted to speak several times, but held back each time at the last moment. Pu Zhi was a true high monk. He did not want such a person to end up with that fate. Yet the world of Zhu Xian was, overall, a tragedy. Pu Zhi was so, Zhang Xiaofan was so, Ghost King was so, and Bi Yao was so. In a world destined to be filled with tragedy, what could a child of five or six possibly do?
After Pu Zhi smilingly saw him out of Grass Temple, Ye Yun walked away, looking back every three steps. Pu Zhi, before the Bloodthirsty Bead devoured his mind, was an exceedingly, exceedingly, exceedingly kind man. He was like an elder. Though Ye Yun had only spent a short time with him, he had come to like him deeply. Unfortunately, he was only a child of five or six, like an ant. Even if an ant knew a cart was rolling toward its nest, what could it do? How could its strength possibly stand against those crushing wheels?
After putting the bowls and chopsticks back in the thatched hut, he hurried toward the cave before night fully fell. Though he had left a deep enough impression on Pu Zhi, he was not Zhang Xiaofan or Lin Jingyu. Who knew whether Pu Zhi, after being affected by the Bloodthirsty Bead, would still remember him? If he did not, wouldn't Ye Yun be dead? It was better to hide farther away. Wang Er had escaped disaster in the original story by hiding in the toilet, so there was no reason Ye Yun could not do the same, right? Though that Wang Er had already been frightened insane.
He had done everything he could. Now, he could only leave it to fate. After arriving at the cave, Ye Yun lay down in the pile of straw and stopped worrying about anything. Perhaps because he had done too much during the day, Ye Yun, lying there lost in wild thoughts, soon fell asleep.
As the last ray of sunlight vanished in the distance, the sky gradually darkened. The gentle evening breeze brought a hint of chill to the little village. Those who had finished dinner, had nothing to do, and could not sleep because it was still early sat at their doorways with palm-leaf fans, enjoying the cool air. They casually discussed tomorrow's work and exchanged a few boasts.
Gradually, the night deepened. Those enjoying the cool returned indoors to rest, while the clouds overhead grew denser and denser. Thunder even began to rumble. At that moment, a boy of twelve or thirteen quietly slipped out of his home carrying a lantern, with a bottle of wound medicine tucked against his chest.
This person was Zhang Xiaofan, the protagonist of Zhu Xian. Kind by nature, he had not been able to forget the injury on Pu Zhi's hand after seeing it during the day. Only after the night had grown quiet and both his parents had fallen asleep did he finally find the chance to sneak out, intending to bring medicine to the old monk. Yet to his shock, he saw a man in black glaring angrily at the old monk in Grass Temple, both poised to fight with their arts.
Suddenly, a thunderclap exploded, making his ears buzz. At that moment, he saw a dazzling bolt of lightning streak across the sky, descending from the heavens to the earth and striking the black-clad man's sword.
In an instant, the black-clad man's robes billowed high, and his eyes widened as though they were about to burst. Under the fierce illumination of the lightning, Grass Temple was as bright as day.
The lightning blooming from the sword's tip in the night was so beautiful that Zhang Xiaofan held his breath. In Pu Zhi's eyes, a strange fervor appeared once more.
"Is this the great power of the True Daoist Method?"
The black-clad man gave a mighty shout. With his left hand forming a sword gesture, he exerted all his strength and flicked his wrist. Thunder roared as bolts of electricity shot from the sword toward Pu Zhi. Along their path, grass, trees, bricks, and stones were all blasted into the air. Only the ground in the middle was left with a deep, scorched gash.
Pu Zhi retreated three steps, withdrew his hand seals, and pressed his palms together. His expression was solemn as a faint golden light radiated from his entire body. He murmured, "Buddha is Merciful!"
With a snap, the seven remaining Jade Prayer Beads before him all shattered, forming a huge golden character for "Buddha" three feet in front of him. Its golden radiance was dazzling, impossible to look at directly.
The next moment, the lightning and that Buddhist character collided.
Zhang Xiaofan suddenly felt his heart pound violently, as if all the blood in his body had flowed backward in an instant. His limbs went limp, and he could not breathe. In that brief moment, it seemed as though the wind had stopped, the thunder had fallen silent, and the entire world had come to a halt.
Then white light and golden radiance burst forth, incomparably brilliant, far surpassing the sun in the sky. The entire Grass Temple shattered into pieces, flying in every direction from the two combatants at its center. He too was sent flying backward, before he even had time to feel afraid.
His heart was utterly empty. He could only feel the fierce wind continuously whipping past his ears.
Fear rose within him. Instinctively, he wanted to curl into himself, but he lacked the strength. He could only let himself drift toward the unknown before losing consciousness.
The unconscious Zhang Xiaofan did not know that the direct trigger for this battle had been his good friend Lin Jingyu. It was also because of Lin Jingyu that Pu Zhi had been ambushed by Cang Song and bitten by the Seven-Tailed Centipede. He was steadily forced back during the battle, and only after exhausting all his strength did he seriously wound Cang Song. But the poison had already invaded his heart, and he did not have long to live.
Pu Zhi slowly walked over, staggering along with Zhang Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu tucked beneath his arms. Reaching a relatively clean patch of ground, he gently set the two children down. A searing pain immediately spread through his body, as though he were about to split apart. He could no longer hold on and collapsed weakly to the ground.
Knowing that he would die, Pu Zhi swallowed Ghost Doctor's Three-Day Death Pill. At that moment, rain finally began to fall from the sky, as if even heaven mourned for him. Thinking of his greatest wish, Pu Zhi sighed helplessly. "It is only a pity that True Master Dao Xuan's cultivation surpasses mine by far, yet in the end, he is no different from my three senior brothers. He cannot let go of sectarian prejudice, nor can he relinquish status and position. Alas!"
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